you mean it?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
His voice was rough. “That means a lot.”
I lowered my hand from his and rested it in my lap, feeling the charge of energy around us. So many emotions whipped through me with more force than the wind blowing outside the pickup, rocking it slightly with each big gust.
Ray watched me, and I realized he was waiting for me to respond. But what could I say?
“I think this”—I gestured out the window at his home and the surrounding pasture—“is incredible.”
His expression softened, and he reached out and covered my hand on my thigh with his. It was big and warm and sent tingles through the denim where his fingers overlapped mine. “Thank you.”
His hand left mine, and the absence of his warmth was palpable. I found myself longing, somewhere deep inside, for him to hold my hand again, to open the door to possibilities. But Ray had a list of responsibilities I couldn’t dream of, and I didn’t want to add myself to the list.
He ran his finger over the dusty clock on the dash, showing the time was nearly five o’clock. “You better get home.”
Fighting to keep my expression steady, I nodded. He was saying what we both knew. There was a place where I belonged, and it wasn’t here with him.
Twenty
When I reached my car, I realized my phone didn't even have service at Ray’s house. I had to wait until I was back in Heywood near the co-op to text Cori and let her know that I would be home soon.
There were a few messages from my friends, asking if I could hang out, but I had to text them back and let them know I couldn’t have friends over.
After locking my screen, I continued driving. Even though I usually listened to a true crime podcast, I couldn't bring myself to pay attention to that with the loud thoughts in my mind.
What I had seen today was completely different from what my parents warned me—and their customers—against. Ray had admitted to using antibiotics, but wouldn’t it be cruel to let the animals go without medical treatment? The cattle on his farm looked healthy and happy. They put them in pens, but they had plenty to eat and room to move around. One farm didn't represent every single one, but I still couldn't reconcile the fact that Ray felt personally attacked by my parents’ advertising. If we had been wrong about him, who else were we wrong about?
But what could I tell my parents that would make them take a second look? My mom had been so passionate about antibiotics causing my illness, and my dad had just ordered those signs for the windows. Would it be too late to change their minds? And if I couldn't convince them, what did their business say about me? What did it say that I profited on the misconceptions they spread?
This so wasn't my territory. Rory was the one who stood up for the little people. Jordan was the one who proudly spoke her mind. Zara was the confident one, and Callie knew better than anyone else how to be kind. What did that leave me?
As I approached my house, I saw a few extra cars parked around the driveway. Cori must have had her friends over. I pulled into the garage, grabbed my camera bag, and walked inside to find every starting member of the girls’ basketball team sitting in our living room. While the TV played a teen soap opera, the girls ate from bags of junk food and what had to be GMO popcorn.
“Hey, girls,” I said, shutting the door behind me.
They returned the greeting, and Cori stuck out her bag of popcorn. “Want some?”
“No thanks,” I said with a sigh.
“Long day?” her friend Alva asked.
“You have no idea.” It crossed my mind that despite my early morning, I hadn't even made it back to town in time to refill my inhaler. I wasn't too worried about it—my asthma hardly ever flared up anymore. Besides, I had my breathing treatments every day and extra treatments at school just in case. I could always run by the pharmacy on Monday after school. If the pharmacy was open.
My parents didn't believe in using the big name stores’ pharmacies, because they said it was keeping small businesses from having a chance. So, I was at the mercy of Circles Pharmacy’s schedule, which was run by one man who probably should have