Page 11 of The Cowboy's Cabaret

The restof our late-night feast goes off without a hitch and after Jasper complained for the half hour it took him to find a parking spot, we’re settled in for the night.

Fernando took an instant liking to Jasper and Wes, meowing and showing his belly like the little orange attention whore he is. Jasper bitched he didn’t like cats, but he’s been petting Fernando for at least ten minutes.

Eventually, they all settle for bed—Jasper and Wes looking comical on opposite ends of the small futon. Daphne and I head to our rooms and my phone lights with a text from Wes.

Wesley

You did great tonight. I’m so glad I got to come by for the show.

In my excitement to reply, I accidentally swipe back to my unread texts only to be assaulted with a barrage of texts from the malevolent presence I’ve blocked far too many times. However, in typical deadbeat fashion, he’s likely swindled some unsuspecting woman into paying for a new phone this month.

Unknown

hey

Unknown

it’s dad

Unknown

call me sometime. I’v been spendin time with Kip, remember

Sure, Dad.I remember some random man who, in all honesty, probably sold you drugs, that I met once.

The airy cloud of lust I was floating on has completely dissipated and I’m crashing back to earth. Of course, his first message to me again in six months is useless. He’s a waste of space and the painful memories of my younger years come rushing back.

Seven-year-old Dahlia waiting by the door with her bags packed, for a man who would never come.

Ten-year-old Dahlia thrilled her dad was finally picking her up for a weekend visit, only to be returned an hour later because I asked for something to eat for lunch.

It always makes me laugh when he reaches out now. As a kid he’d say, “phone works both ways, you know,” like I wasn’t his ditzy twelve-year-old child and he was the parent. The rare time we’d spend together was filled with complaints about my bitch of a mom and how she ruined his life by having me. Not like I was sitting shotgun in his stolen Civic listening to this tirade or anything. Grandma always said she couldn’t tell what was worse on me—him disappearing or actually showing up.

This text is the bucket of water I needed to douse the fires of my problematic crush. I block the number and throw my phone to the floor, remembering exactly what falling in love gets you and why it’ll save me and Wes the heartache if we remain friends. The last thing I need is to fall in love and be left to menda broken heart for the rest of time when he realizes I’m simply not good enough.

If your earliest memories are being unwanted, it’s not hard to make the connection you’re the common denominator. Grandma should have hit him with her car the last time she threatened it. I would’ve paid her bail and saved us a lot more trouble in the long run.

EIGHT

bacon, egg, and cheese or die

Dahlia

The consequencesof my carefree fun last night have arrived. The small sliver of sun breaking through my bedroom curtains feels like being stuck by lightning as I attempt to pull the blanket over my head. I recall bits and pieces of my chaos and my every day anxiety transforms into special edition hangover anxiety.

I decide to face the world and slink into the living room. Jasper’s sprawling figure is taking up one half of the futon, while Wesley’s shirtless back is on display, his arms hanging towards the floor. I decide it’s harmless to ogle him right now since he’s sleeping. The expanse of his shoulders and torso are adorned with tattoos. My eyes trace the traditional style tigers on either shoulder blade, to the black and gray script wrapping around his biceps—beautiful in a dark way.

Something hits me in the head and I turn to find Daphne hiding from where she must have launched the ball of tin foil at me. I turn ready to deny my staring contest with Wes’ back, when he clears his throat and moves to stretch.

“Mornin’ ladies. The futon was surprisingly welcoming. The same can’t be said for Jasper’s hairy ass though.” Jasper huffs and turns to face the wall.

“Anytime we’ve come to the city, we always grab a bacon, egg, and cheese. Any chance you’ve got a spot you like nearby? I can pick up, I’m ready to grub.”

Daphne agrees to go along with Wes, in case “the country bumpkin” gets lost. I decide to clear up some of the coffee table space for us to eat when Jasper speaks.

“What’s the deal with you and Wes?” I’m honestly surprised he’s said so many words in a row.

“What do you mean? We’re friends, he’s fun to hang out with.”