Intertwined

Seventeen

Cassidy

That night, I drove all the way home completely forgetting the man I left in the bar. If our being together was just a fling, then why did everything Houston did make me feel crazier for him? Being upset and more emotional would never have happened if we weren't together before. 

As soon as I pulled the car next to my house, I almost slipped out of the car, scrambled to my feet, and hurried inside hoping that a specific ranch hand would never catch up to me. The lights inside were dimmed low as a poker game played out in front of me, a loud commotion coming from the dining table.

My brother put his cards flat on the table and raised an eyebrow at me, "Everything okay, Cass? Have you seen Houston?"

At the other end of the table, Gus slammed his cards on the table and dragged the chips back to his side. He exclaimed loudly, "Thanks for that, Beckett."

For once, I was not in a cherry, happy mood like I usually was, and I did not want to spend my evening talking it out with my brother. I questioned in an irritated tone, "How should I know where he is? He's an adult. He doesn't need a babysitter."

"I was only asking, since you are always with Houston," Beckett replied, raising his hands in defense. "What is wrong with you? You're not on your... you know?"

In reply, I scoffed at my brother's remark and stomped up the stairs, which was not the best decision to make right after his accusation. I landed on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting the anger simmer inside my head at Houston, Dallas, and Beckett.

Moments later, the door creaked open against the hardwood floor, as heavy footsteps accompanied the unusual sounds. I almost thought it was Houston, but I was disappointed to see my brother again.

He caught on to my disappointment, as he said, "I see that you're still mad. Look, I'm sorry about asking if you were on your... You know what, I don't want to start an argument again."

"Leave me alone, Beckett," I yelled into my pillow, covering my face with all the pillows I had, my baby blanket, and Houston's t-shirt. "I don't want to talk."

"Oh, well then," Beckett pressed his lips together and dug his hands in his pockets, glancing around my room until he spotted a certain stuffed animal on my dresser. "You still have Mr. Moo? Aren't you a little too old for stuffed animals?"

My brother plucked the stuffed cow off of the dresser and plopped down on the bed, which was exactly what I did not want him to do. I sat up in bed and grabbed the stuffed animal that was always out of reach, as I exclaimed, "Beckett, give him back to me. He's mine."

"Not until you tell me why you're so mad," Beckett replied, keeping the stuffed animal out of reach from me. "You're always so happy and in a good mood. As your older brother, I need to know what's bothering you. Is it drama with friends? Is it your period? Is it a boy?"

I said in a harsher tone, "It is not a boy, and it's none of your business."

"Do I know who this boy is?"My brother continuously asked, paying more attention to the questions in his head as I fought the urge to punch him. "My first instinct would be Houston, but it definitely is not."

For a moment, I should have been relieved that Beckett completely dismissed Houston as the guy I had been dating - or kissed a couple of times. All I felt was curiosity and the sense that somehow I could get inside Houston's head. Hearing my brother's thoughts on why he never saw Houston and me together could make my anxious feelings subside, for now.

I crossed my arms over my chest and asked, "What do you mean that it's 'definitely not Houston'?"

"From what Houston has told me, he's never dated his friends' sisters," Beckett defended himself, and somehow I felt better knowing I was not about to hear more terrible news. "Which I am so glad, because having one of my friends date my sister... that's disgusting."