Page 4 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

I looked away from her, refusing to answer her question again. While Mike wasn’t well known nationally, he was pretty known because he played in a lot of the Western bars downtown. There were always rumors about him hooking up with girls after his shows, but he always seemed to have a good excuse or cover-up for those.

“I don’t know.” I tried desperately to change the topic. “I’m going to focus on tomorrow.”

She slapped the steering wheel. “That’s right, baby.”

“Am I going to look absurd for going in the outfit I have?”

Harleigh shook her head. “No. Everyone pretends they’re a cowgirl at the rodeo.”

“When I was in college, my roommate made me go to a convention with her, and we cosplayed some of the characters. I feel like I’m doing that except I’m twenty-six now.”

She giggled. “You are absolutely doing something like that, Fabes.”

We pulled into the structure next to our building and parked. As we approached the front door, Harleigh yanked on my hand, forcing me to look at her.

“You know I only talk shit about Mike because I think how he handled the whole situation was garbage. I get that you’re scared of being with anyone else because of your . . . uniqueness.”

“My oddities, Harls.”

She shook her head. “Not odd. Just uniquely you.”

I rolled my eyes, not believing a word she was saying. “Go ahead.”

“I think you can do better than him.”

“Hmm.”

She wasn’t wrong. I could do better than Mike. I could do way better. It wasn’t that simple. No one would understand why I stayed. No one would get why I was like this—why I was so paranoid, so consumed with staying safe, staying clean. They didn’t know what it felt like to come that close to death, to lie in a hospital bed hooked up to machines because of a mistake, because I’d been careless and stupid.

They didn’t see the endless cycle of guilt and fear that followed. The nights I stayed awake replaying everything in my head, thinking if I’d been more careful, if I’d paid attention, I wouldn’t have ended up there. They didn’t hear the voice in my head, whispering that it could all happen again, that I couldn’t afford to mess up—not even a little.

Mike? He knew all of it. He used it against me sometimes, sure, but he knew. He reminded me how broken I was, how no one else would put up with this version of me. I believed him, because how could anyone possibly love someone so afraid of living?

I didn’t argue with Harleigh because what would be the point? She meant well, but she didn’t know the whole story. No one did.

“Come on, Fable. Think about it.”

I nodded as we stepped into the lobby and made our way to the elevators. We pressed the button, waiting in silence as the soft hum of the building surrounded us.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist,” I said as the doors slid open. “She’s been encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone. Says people with my . . . uniqueness, as you put it, can benefit from trying something new.”

Harleigh lit up and punched me in the arm.

“Ow. That hurt.” I rubbed the spot, shooting her a look.

“Crybaby.” She laughed. “This is perfect. The rodeo will be good for you.”

I hesitated, glancing at her as we stepped into the elevator. “You’ll be there if I need anything?”

She rolled her eyes as the elevator dinged.

“Always, babe. I’m always by your side.”

2

Beaudreau ‘Beau’ Banks

“Man, that bull fucked me up good tonight,” my best friend and fellow competitor, Dalton Culpepper, grumbled as we walked away from the chutes toward the changing rooms. “Wasn’t expecting a wreck, but damn, my thigh hurts like a motherfucker.”