Page 77 of For Cowgirls and Kings

STETSON: Need a girls night?

STETSON: Or day?

STETSON: Out or in?

STETSON: Clothed or naked?

I snort a laugh at that. She undoubtedly said it partly for my benefit to make light of the heaviness, and part to piss off Gus. He surely reads her messages—with or without her permission I don’t know—and will be furious at the idea that she might be parading around naked at Mateo’s house.

That thought makes me think about the weirdness between the two lover boys at the hospital, something Mateo’s not brought up again, even though he assured me he would.

ME: What’s going on with Mateo and Gus?

I cringe as the message leaves my phone. They obviously aren’t privy to the inner workings of my brain, and will have noidea how I ended up here at this topic of conversation. Then again, I’ve always been the queen of deflecting things away from me, even if sometimes it gets lonely.

I do wish I could talk about myself. But every time I try, I get sweaty, a lump like a boulder in my throat, and my heart races fast enough to explode.

Best to just avoid it.

Three dots pop up next to Stetson’s name and then disappear. Then three dots pop up next to Faith’s, only for them too, to disappear.

Are they having a fucking conversation without me?

I never want to be jealous of my friends, and I know there are plenty of things between Stetson and I that Faith isn’t a part of—right or not—but I don’t like being on the outside.

ME: Are you guys having a conversation without me?

Almost instantly they both respond, only fueling the green monster of jealous burning in my stomach.

STETSON: No, Dale!

FAITH: Oh my gosh, no!

ME: Well? Care to share then?

I don’t want to be a bitch. Fuck, I’m never the one to be irritated or lash out—ever.I’m always the happy one, the patient, kind one. But something inside of me’s dead now, and I think it’s my will to do and say what I think others expect me to.

I have to fight for myself. Even if it feels like walking acrossshards of glass.

STETSON: I’m guessing Mateo hasn’t talked to you yet then? I wish he would.

ME: I don’t need Mateo to talk to me. I need you to talk to me.

I can almost see her face crumpling behind the phone screen, and just the thought of it makes me type out “I’m sorry” three different times. But ultimately I decide to leave it. Because I’m not sorry I said it, I’m only sorry if it hurts her.

Finally her reply comes through, followed quickly by Faith’s.

STETSON: They got into a fight the night we were looking for you.

FAITH: I still don’t even know why.

I stare at Faith’s response, and guilt floods my stomach. She’s feeling as left out as I am, and that instantly makes any remnants of my jealousy dissipate. If anyone has the right to feel left out, it’s her.

Yes, she’s the newest, but if we plan to include her in some things, we need to get to a place where we trust her with all things. Just like Stetson and I do. Or…or like Stetson does with me.

Fuck, is the girl with the worst of the trauma, really the one with the best communication skills and willingness to trust others? How is that possible?

I need to be more like her, in more ways than one. She’s incredible—I already knew as much, but seeing her like this, with the filter of experience darkening my outlook on life, I see her for the rockstar she is.