I get on the bus and sit in the only available seat: next to super-slacker Thomas. "Hey," he says as I sit down. "Hey," I reply. Awkward. "Hey, you wanna come to a party at my place Friday night?" he says after a few minutes of silence. Just at that moment, the bus doors open at my spot, my freedom awaiting me. "Um," I say, standing up and slinging my backpack onto my shoulder. I blink at him and decide to be honest, "Not really, no." Thomas sighs, and then his face lights up, "Venice will be there," he says. Venice. He knows I like Venice? Wow, I didn't know I was that obvious. "Oh," I reply. He smiles, "So will I see you there?" I shrug. He smiles, "See you then, Luther." I get out of the bus hurriedly then and watch as it drives off. That Thomas is such an annoying jerk. But I know I have to go, if Venice is going. It's not like she'll ever talk to me anywhere else. I adjust my backpack strap on my shoulder and turn, walking toward my house. My brother comes in from the back door as I hang my bag on the coat rack and takes off his hat, placing it on the table. "Hey, brother," he says, smiling largely like he always does after a long ride on Misty. "Hey," I reply, taking the books I need for homework from my bag and tossing them onto the couch. "How was your first day back?" he asks as I open the cupboard and pull out a bag of chips, ripping them open and grabbing a handful. He walks up next to me, opening the fridge and taking out the milk. I take another handful of chips and he takes the cap off the milk, chugging it from the bottle. Mom comes in with her usual getup: high boots and her signature hat. She has her rugged boots on, so she must've been out in the yard with Jesse. "Oh, boys!" mom exclaims, "Honestly! Eat like proper folk, will you?" My mom's accent slurs her protests. "Aw, mom, let us be," Jesse replies, rolling his eyes and putting the milk back in the fridge. Mom rolls her eyes, "Honestly, boys, you know better than that. Leave those nasty habits for the cows." A country family, you could call mine. It's not as if mine is the only one in town. With all the farmhouses, large flats of land for every family, barns of horses, cows, chickens and such, no one is surprised to see my brother, my parents, and myself riding around with our, as tourists call them, 'cowboy' boots, hats, and accents. (Well, I refuse to wear the hats or boots, but my accent is something I can't control, obviously. I just keep myself from saying 'Howdy!', unlike the rest of my family.) Misty, the family's horse, is a real prize. A beautiful white Arabian, worth quite a lot. My dad won her in a bet, (a big bet that my mom hated him for until he won.) Our other horse is a much cheaper horse, but just as sweet and almost as fast. Savannah, we call her. She's a mix breed and we use her mostly for transportation, unlike Misty, who we use for pleasure rides and work. Of course, we do have a car, but if my parents can help it, they take the horses instead. We have a small family, and mom usually rides with dad if they want us to take a family ride, but riding on the back of Savannah with Jesse is just awkward, so around my sixteenth birthday, my parents finally bought me a bike. (A motorcycle, not a bicycle.) She's a real beauty, slick black and completely redone by the father of the family we bought it from. So much redone, in fact, that the name of the bike isn't even there anymore. Jesse and I got to the tendency of calling it 'The Blackbird' so eventually I painted the word Blackbird onto it in silver. It looks pretty nice, actually, and it definitely beats sitting awkwardly behind Jesse as the other people on the road watch us and snicker. One tourist even stooped to rolling down his car window and yelling, "Brokeback Mountain!"
That was less than a week before we bought The Blackbird.
© 2010
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