“The emergency numbers and the place where we are staying is-“

“On the fridge,” I interrupt my mother, rolling my eyes. She has been repeating herself all afternoon as my dad loads the cows into the cattle trailer.

“Don’t be afraid to call,” she tells me, as we hear my dad honk the horn of his pickup truck. “Be good!” She kisses the top of my forehead and pulls her purse over her shoulder. “Bye Mary, bye Emery,” she waves as she rushes out the door to meet my dad.

Mary, Emery and I follow her and stand on the porch, waving as they pull out of the driveway. When they’re gone, Mary and I plop down on the wooden deck steps.

“What now?” She asks, resting her chin on her hands. So far we’ve only come up with a movie night, and have no better ideas.

“I have an idea,” Emery nods our way with a smug look across his face. I know better than to believe his idea will be flawless.

“What’s the catch?” I can’t control the hurt and annoyance in my voice as I speak to him. So far, things haven’t gotten any better.

“Your truck.”

I exhale through my barely open lips. “Yeah, like I’m going to let you borrow my truck.” He’s probably planning on going to a club, or a party. At least I can basically tell that he’s planning on ditching us. Mary nudges me in the side with her elbow.

“Don’t be so closed minded.” She turns to Emery. “What’s the idea?” Of course it would be Mary to be optimistic, just like my dad. Am I the only logical one around here?

“It’s a surprise, but I’ll be back in forty minutes, I swear.” I narrow my eyes at him, not believing any words that leave his mouth. “If I’m not, call your rents.”

Mary looks at me with pleading eyes. Well, I guess we really don’t have anything better to do right now except debate whether Emery will be coming back or not. Sighing, I dig in my pocket and pull out my keys. I twirl them around my forefinger, staring at the boy leaning against the railing.

“You have to give us a clue.” At least then Mary and I could let our imaginations run wild for the time he will be gone.

Emery raises his eyebrows, and then thinks for a minute. “Let’s just say that it will make tonight a lot more enjoyable if I have to hang out with you two.” My eyes narrow, but I throw him the keys anyways. He catches them without effort, and heads towards my truck. I wince as he throws open the old, rusty door and slams it behind him. Moments later, loud angry music is blaring out of the rolled down windows. He gives a small wave and grins mischievously as he starts to pull out of the driveway. Once he’s on the road, he steps down as hard as he can on the gas. I don’t think my truck is coming back in one piece.

“He’s getting alcohol,” declares Mary, picking lint off her navy jeans.

I lean over and bump my shoulder against hers. “Since when did you become such a detective?”

“Since Emery came to work on your farm,” she laughs, but I don’t. Instead I stand up and slowly walk towards the cow pen with my hands in my pockets. “What’s going on with you two, anyways?” Mary asks once she catches up to me, shrugging, I stare at the ground.

“He makes no sense,” I think about our conversation on the way back from Mary’s. Then I remember all the other romantic moments we’ve had, and the regrets Emery has made clear. “He’s so hot and cold all the time. He will act like he’s my boyfriend one moment, and then the next, he tells me not to get attached.”

When I’m finished we reach the cow pen, and I reach my hand in to stroke one of their heads. Other than our talking, the mooing of cows is the only other sound.

“Well, maybe you should cut him some slack.” My head snaps towards Mary who shrugs. “Think about what’s happened to him in past relationships with his family. Getting close to someone must not be easy.” One of the cows licks my hand and I squeal, pulling it quickly to my side. Wiping it on my jeans, I sigh. Mary has a point.

“Why are you having such a being right streak lately?” She smacks my arm and I roll my eyes. “It’s just hard,” I mumble. “We have such little time left, at least from my understanding that he doesn’t want to stay here. And he’s not making the most of it; instead he’s making things worse.”

We both turn and lean against the fencing with our hands in our pockets. We face the fields where the sun is creating an orange glow over the green. Sometimes I take this place for granted.

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to hurt you when he leaves,” Mary says quietly after a few minutes of thought. “Or hurt himself.”

My shoulders slump as I think about what it will be like once he’s gone; if he leaves me here. At least now I have a truck, like I’ve always wanted so I could have freedom and leave this place. But now that Emery’s here, I don’t ever want to leave. But once he’s gone, I will be too.

Twenty minutes later, we’re still leaning against the fence when the sound of tires on gravel sounds in the distance. After a minute, Emery pulls into the driveway, slamming on the breaks. I hear the sound of bottles clinking together after he shuts off the truck and his loud music.

He climbs out, holding two cases of beer in his hands. He nods for us to come help him and I roll my eyes. In the cab of the truck are three bottles of different substances, and five cartons of cigarettes. How much has my dad been paying him?

Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pick up some of the items and pass them to Mary. We’re halfway to the house when Mary stops to stare at the sky.

“Looks like there’s a storm coming,” she says, first excited to break this heat wave. Then, she becomes concerned. “River, are you going to be okay?” I look at the dark clouds and then at Emery, who’s opening the front door with his foot. “We can call your parents, or go to my house.” I shake my head no and head after Emery. I admit, I’m happy to have rain after all this hot weather. But while my parents are gone, and Emery isn’t being all nice to me, tonight is going to be terrible.

We all agree to wait until later tonight to start drinking, and get ahead of the farm work instead. If we waited until later, I don’t think we would be capable of the task; especially in the rain. By the time it’s dark out and the rain starts hitting the roof, we’re sitting in the living room. Mary sits on the floor cross-legged holding her mixed drink, while I sit in the old comfy chair drinking mine. We both agreed we hated the taste of beer, so we are thankful that Emery had thought of us. Emery’s stretched out on the couch, sipping his second beer when Mary decides we need to do something.

“What about a drinking game?” She asks Emery, who only shrugs. I’m about to ask what game when the worst thing happens. There’s a loud bang of thunder, and then we are sitting in complete darkness. Mary screams as I sigh, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

“I’ll go get some candles,” I tell her, searching in the darkness for the coffee table while my eyes adjust. “A tree must have knocked out the power lines.” A few minutes later we’re back in our regular spots, dimly lit with candle light. The cows and horses in the barn would be fine in the dark, just like every night, and King is in the house sleeping somewhere. “So what drinking game?”

Emery chugs half of his beer before responding. “Never have I ever.”

“How do you play?” Mary asks, reaching for the can of pop on the coffee table and adding more to her drink to get rid of the bitter taste.

“Well,” sighs Emery, sitting up and slouching against the couch. “Someone says never have I ever done something, and those who have take a sip of their drink.” Mary nods as her hands moves her glass around in circles, mixing the contents of her drink. “I’ll go first,” shrugs Emery, thinking for a moment. “Never have I ever kissed a guy.” Rolling our eyes, Mary and I take a sip of our drinks. “Your turn,” Emery nods towards Mary.

“Never have I ever…” Mary thinks before answering. “Touched a gun.” Emery and I take sips of our drinks, and I stare at him with curious eyes.

“When?” I ask full of wonder.

Emery shrugs. “None of your business. Now it’s your turn.”

I think for a few minutes. I could use this to my advantage, and ask something that could reveal things in Emery’s thoughts about me. But if he figured out my plan, would he participate truthfully, or start to play with the offense?

“Never have I ever kissed someone I don’t have feelings for.” My words come out rushed and in monotone, but Emery hears them regardless. I watch, as he raises the bottle to his lips. He chugs the remaining content of his drink, as my heart sinks.

He heads to the kitchen to grab another beer out of the fridge as Mary shoots me a sympathetic look. We top off out drinks and wait for Emery to take his turn. When he’s sitting on the couch, his eyes stare directly into mine.

“Never have I ever,” he starts, his mouth not smiling or frowning. “Been in love.”

I’m the only one who takes a drink.