《Last Turn Home》Chapter 8 - You Meant Something

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The following morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn and glanced out of my bedroom window, only to find John already up and at 'em, feeding and watering the horses. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a button-up flannel shirt, pulling my hair up into an easy ponytail.

"You're up early," I called out when I came out and started making my way towards the stables, putting my hand over my eyes to shield them from the rising sun. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Starvin'," John grinned, spinning around on the heels of his muddy boots.

"How long have you been up anyway?" I asked as I reached the stall he was in, watching him as he scooped manure and dumped it in the nearby wheelbarrow. By the looks of it, he'd been at work for a while already.

"You don't wanna know," he replied with a dismissive shrug.

I leaned against the open stall gate, watching the way he moved. "Are you okay?" I asked, suddenly noting how tired he looked. Had he slept at all these last few days? "John, just stop for a sec," I added when he made a move to brush by me, completely disregarding my question.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it," he snapped.

"Okay... but if there's somethin' wrong that I can help–" I began.

"Just drop it Carly, I don't need your help," he barked.

"Fine, don't bite my head off," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, concern still etched on my face. "Just come and eat when you have the chance okay?" I added, resting my hand on his uninjured arm.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Okay," I nodded, turned on my heels and left him alone.

I went back out and made my way around a large puddle. It'd rained all night so the ground was pretty soggy, but there was barely a cloud up in the sky now, so I was going to bet my money on the fact that it'd be a pretty nice day.

Too bad; I would've liked a reason to relax indoors and get back to my book.

As I made breakfast my mind was still on John. Something was clearly bothering him, and I hoped it had nothing to do with me. Was I being completely self-centered by thinking that?

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The thing is, and I realized this as I filled a plate with pancakes, I really didn't know anything about him and he didn't know anything about me. Regardless of the way I felt about him, we were still pretty much strangers... acquaintances at the very least.

I couldn't think about it too much, or else I'd drive myself crazy. I focused on my second batch of pancakes instead.

When, half an hour later, John still hadn't come to the house to eat, I brought him a plate.

"Listen, I don't know if I did somethin' or if you're just... I don't know... the male version of PMSing... but John, I actually don't want you to starve to death believe it or not, so eat the goddamn pancakes," I told him, pushing the plate into his hands and walking away before he had a chance to say anything.

I stood there with the pancakes, feeling like a complete jackass.

I wasn't used to anyone giving a damn about me, and to be honest I didn't quite know how to react. I didn't like some of these new feelings: it was more than just physical attraction... and along with all of those emotions came vulnerability.

When you spend an eternity building up walls and making sure to keep everyone at arm's length, it can take a lot to bring it all down... or it could very well take two seconds. I was fucking terrified that she'd find a way in and then break me the way everyone else had.

Besides, I was too old for her, too... broken. I wasn't good enough, I'd never be good enough, and she would find that out sooner or later. I didn't want her to find out the hard way. I didn't want to hurt her.

Mentally shaking myself, I climbed up to the loft and sat down on my unmade bed, the plate of food on my lap. I took a bite and chewed; they were good pancakes and my stomach definitely agreed with me.

"Damn it to hell," I mumbled.

I forced her out of my head through physical labor, working myself into the ground all afternoon. The sun was harsh on my skin and my muscles ached, but I pushed through the pain and kept going.

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Carly didn't try to stop me; actually, I didn't even see her all day.

But then dinnertime came along and I knew I'd have to face her at one point. I debated whether or not to go out into town to eat, but in the end I supposed I had to face my demons at one point or another.

I went into the house around sundown and found her in the kitchen, her wet hair piled up into a messy bun and her t-shirt raised up to reveal just the slightest amount of skin. She was already in pyjama pants: green turtles splashing around on cozy blue fabric.

She didn't notice me come in, so I made a note to close the screen door a little harder than I could have. She jumped, whirling around to face me.

"Hi," she muttered, looking like she was walking on eggshells.

"Hey," I replied.

"I didn't know if you were comin' to eat or not," she attempted, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I was gonna bring you a plate later..." she added.

I nodded, looking around the room for the right words to say.

"Listen, Carly," I said finally, taking a step towards her and removing my hat. "I owe you an apology... for how I've been uh... behavin' today..." I added with a sigh, running my fingers through my hair.

"It's okay, you're allowed a bad day every once in a while," she smiled.

"What about a decade?" I asked with a humorless laugh. Standing there, I couldn't remember the last time I was ever really happy. Even growing up, I never felt like I really belonged anywhere. Nobody ever gave two craps, and after a while that affected a person's self-esteem quite a bit.

After a life of being tossed around like a piece of trash, it was hard to break out of that mindset and let someone in.

Carly looked up at me, but I didn't see pity in her gaze. She seemed to understand; I suppose she'd had it pretty rough these last few years too, losing both her parents within two years of each other and having to take care of a ranch all on her own...

"You can talk to me, y'know... about anythin'... I'm here," she murmured.

"Yeah," I answered lamely. "I know... and I don't know why... I'm nobody special," I chuckled.

"That's not true... You meant somethin' to me... I kept your tags around my neck for two years John... I still have them in my jewelry box... Those first two years I imagined you comin' back... my dad would give you your old job back, and then I hoped maybe... childishly... that you'd look at me for once... and not see some shy little girl with her missin' teeth and her scabby knees," she blushed furiously as she spoke, but the words kept pouring out of her mouth and she didn't look away. "I dreamed of marryin' you one day," she laughed awkwardly.

I didn't know what to say to that; I wanted so badly to kiss her then, but my body wouldn't let me make a single move.

"I don't see a shy little girl with missin' teeth and scabby knees," I said finally.

"No?" she asked.

"No... and to be honest with you, I think your father would come back and kick my ass if he knew what I was thinkin' about," I chuckled.

"Okay, wow... um..." Carly shook her head, hiding her flushed cheeks with her hands.

We both stood there in the middle of the kitchen, neither one of us willing to break the silence. It was the smell of burning chicken that caught our attention, and Carly let out a series of curses that made my lips twitch up into a smile.

"We could always go out," I suggested as she hurriedly took the chicken – it was more like charcoal at this point – out of the oven, looking at me apologetically.

A/N: Hey CottonCandySmiles, thanks for all of the votes! This one's for you! :3 Also, thank you to everyone else (all three of you!) that has been reading steadily with every update. It's very appreciated!

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