The small bell above the door moved as the door was pushed open, letting out a sharp ding-a-ling that caused some of the customers to look up from their meals to see who the new customers were. After taking a look for a couple of seconds the other customers went back to their meals and intense conversations. All except for one customer. A loud squeal emitted from the back corner of the diner and a dark haired woman rushed over to the two.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she was home earlier!” Rachel scolded Trace while slapping him on the arm.

“Shoot the messenger,” he said with an eye roll while adjusting the trucker hat he was wearing. He followed the two girls to a table in the back and lifted his eyebrows when he saw another person at the table. “Cal, what’s up, man?” He asked, exchanging a handshake with the man who stood at their arrival. “How’re the horses and everything?”

“Strong and sturdy like usual,” Cal replied with a nod. “They’ll be contenders in the competition that’s coming up,” he added as they sat down and looked over the menu. “Whoever rides one of them will surely place in the top three.” He looked over at Mack who was flicking at a packed of sugar. “Since you’re back, are you thinking of entering the competition?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t know for sure yet, maybe not. I do miss riding though, but I don’t really miss the competition.”

“Why are you back?” Rachel asked, lowering her menu. “Not that I’m not happy that you’re back,” she quickly added at the offended look on her friend’s face. “But…why are you here? I just talked to Justin and their tour isn’t over yet.”

Trace leaned back in his seat. He pulled his hat off of his head and ran his fingers through his dark hair, waiting for her response. He’s been holding himself back all day from jumping down her throat and demanding an answer. He knew it wouldn’t work. She’d bring up her wall and dance around the subject until it was changed.

“I decided to start my break early,” Mack replied slowly, turning to look out the window.

“Really? That’s not what Trace told me,” Rachel commented. Trace stiffened in his seat and he shot Rachel a look to try and get her to stop talking. Like usual, it fell flat. “He said he had to pick you up from the airport and you were crying and upset about something.”

“I’m…going to look at the jukebox machine,” Cal said as he slid out of the booth, a desperate attempt to get away from the awkward situation. The workers behind the counter seemed to know not to bother the table because they visited the others and avoided theirs.

“Justin called,” Trace spoke up when Mack didn’t say a word. She whipped her head around so fast he was surprised he hadn’t heard her bones crack. “He was worried about you—they all are. He said that they searched the hotel for you when he found your note. He wanted to know why you left, especially without saying anything.”

“What’d you tell him?” She demanded.

“The only thing I could, that you haven’t told us anything. Considering what you put them, and us, through you owe us an answer,” Trace replied firmly. “Have you even told your parents why you’re back?”

“What’s it matter?” Mack demanded.

“What matters is that you ran away from the guys. You’re keeping secrets, you’ve given up dancing, and now you won’t even ride your own horse, whom you love dearly,” Rachel replied, listing off on her fingers. “So something must’ve happened. We have ways of making you talk so you might as well give up the goods willingly.”

“Fine,” Mack snarled through clenched teeth. “You want to know so badly?  Fine. I left because Justin blamed me for his breakup with Britney.”

“Wait, they broke up?” Rachel asked. Trace looked at her as if she had completely missed the point. She took one look at the expression on his face. “I mean, he’s blaming you? Why?” She asked as innocently as possible.

“Geeze, you really are related to him,” Trace mumbled.

“I kinda…sorta…in a way had a thing for their other choreographer,” Mack started.

“Wait, you liked Wade?” Rachel burst out.

“Rach,” Trace grumbled, rubbing his temples.

She ignored him. “Babyface Robson? You had a crush on him!? Oh come on, Mack, you could do so much better than that elf-eared Aussie.”

“Rach,” Trace said a bit louder.

“I mean, I thought your sights were higher than that. Well, he’s a dancer too so you have something in common, but him. Really?”

“Rach,” Trace hissed. “Zip it.”

“Sorr-ree,” She slouched in her seat and started picking at her nails. “So you got into a fight, huh?”

“Well, apparently Wade had this thing for Britney since they worked together a lot. He talked to me about it, asking for advice and shit so I said to go for it and what did he have to lose?” Mack replied.

“You told him to—” Rachel jumped in.

“Rachel!” Trace sighed in exasperation. Rachel slumped in her seat again. Trace rolled his eyes. “You told him to go after Justin’s girlfriend?” Trace demanded, not believing any words that had just come out of her mouth. She had to be batshit crazy to interfere in someone else’s relationship like that.

“I didn’t know he was talking about Britney!” Mack cried out, throwing her arms up into the air. She accidentally hit the man behind him and knocked off his hat. She turned around when she noticed him glaring at her. “Don’t look at me like that. I did you a favor, sir, that hat was ugly.” The man’s face turned red as he sputtered in shock and turned back around. “What?” She asked when she noticed the incredulous look Trace was giving her. “I said ‘sir’.”

“Oh my gravy,” he muttered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rachel made a snorting sound at his choice of words and forced the corners of her mouth down when he glared at her. “OK, so you told him to go after her…and then what?”

“Apparently Justin found a mash letter in her room—“

“Hey, I remember that game!” Rachel said happily, leaning forward in her seat. “We used to play it all the time. Remember? We always played it to see if you’d get paired up with—“

Mack held up her hand and slowly closed her fingers so the tips were touching her thumb, imitating a closing mouth. Rachel obediently pressed her lips together. Geeze, I don’t remember her being this crazy, Mack thought, letting out a breath. “Anyway, he blew up at her, they broke up, Wade said something about me telling him to pursue her, he got mad at me, said some choice words, and now I’m here. Ya happy now?” Her fingers were tapping rapidly on the table.

“Is everything OK? I feel like a weirdo standing b that jukebox machine. I mean, you can only read the playlist so many times,” Cal said as he sat back down at the booth. He draped his arm on the back of the booth and Rachel slid closer to him. He smiled and kissed the side of her head. He then flagged down the waitress and they got their orders taken.

“So…what’re you doing while you’re home?” Rachel asked, breaking the silence that fell over the table.

“I took a job as a teaching assistant at E. E. Jeter Elementary. Otherwise, nothing,” Mack replied. “First time in my life I can actually relax and not have worry about doing laundry or fixing a schedule or changing a channel ‘cause they can’t find the dang remote.”

“Oh! You can work at the barn with Cal,” Rachel said excitedly. “He’s always been saying he needs an extra hand around the place and you already know all of the horses so you don’t have to worry about getting kicked in the face and breaking your nose.”

“I’d have to take it up with my boss but I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” Cal said with a shrug and a wink in Mack’s direction. Their food arrived and they ate the meal in silence, otherwise talking about the town events that were coming up soon. Trace remained silent, picking at his food and constantly adjusting his hat. By the time the check came Trace burst out of his seat and strode towards his truck.

“Justin’s in for it,” Rachel sighed, standing as well and lifting her purse over her shoulder. “Hey, come over for dinner, OK? We have a lot to catch up on.”

“And by that you mean you want someone else to brag to about Cal,” Mack said as the two walked towards the front of the diner. “He’s nice. A little on the creepy, serial killer nice side, but nice. What’s the catch with him?”

“He smells like manure all day?” Rachel offered. Mack rolled her eyes and Rachel laughed. “You better get going before Trace leaves without you.” She nodded out the window where Trace was pacing by his truck before jumping into the driver’s seat. “We’ll talk later, especially about Brett asking you out.”

Mack’s mouth fell open. “How’d you know about that already?”

“Word spreads fast around here, remember? Geeze, you have been away for too long. But don’t worry; I’ll catch you up on everything that’s happened. We’ll have a girls’ night.”

“Yipee,” Mack said while giving two thumbs-up signs.

“You ready to leave, Darlin’?” Cal asked, walking over to the girls. “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Grandpa Fletcher about the job but I’m sure it’s as good as yours.” He lightly tapped the brim of his cowboy hat before placing a hand on the small of Rachel’s back and led her away.

Mack turned on her heel and walked to Trace’s black truck. She rested her arms on the windowsill of the passenger side and peered in at Trace who was clutching the steering wheel in what seemed to be a death grip. “Pretending the wheel is Justin’s neck?” She guessed.

“You’re not funny,” Trace replied, relaxing and dropping his hands.

“Has anyone ever told you not to stew in anger?”

“You should take your own advice.”

“Now who’s not the funny one?”

“Just get in.” Trace leaned over the seat and pumped the door handle, successfully pushing the door open.

“I could’ve gotten it myself,” Mack commented, lifting herself into the seat and closing the door behind her.

“You could thank me,” he replied, buckling himself. “I just proved chivalry’s not dead.” He jerked the key in the ignition. The truck instantly roared into life and he backed out of the space. “Don’t make any comments on my driving, City Girl,” Trace warned her.

“Stop calling me that!” Mack groaned in frustration. “I’m not a city girl!”

“No, but you’re ridiculously passive,” he replied, jerking the steering wheel and taking a turn sharply.

“Let me deal with J, Trace.”

“You don’t deal; you let him run all over you like a steam roller. You ran away because of him for crying out loud!”

“Let me deal with it!”

Trace sighed. “Fine, do whatever you want I don’t care.”

“Yes you do, or else you wouldn’t always be on my case about it,” Mack grumbled. “Unless you’re annoyed because Brett asked me out.”

Trace scoffed. “What does he have anything to do with this?”

“I’m just saying you weren’t this uptight before we went to the school,” she replied in a sing-song voice.

Trace slammed on his breaks and stopped right before the light turned red. “What’re you implying?” He asked, lifting his eyebrows.

She held up her hands. “I’m just having a conversation. You’re the one getting suspicious and jumping down my throat. So, tell me Juan, why are you so moody today?”

“Were you always this annoying?” He groaned.

“It grows with age,” she replied. She then grinned and patted his arm. “Just wait until we’re eighty,” she said enthusiastically.

“I might be dead before then.”

“With your driving, that’s a safe bet.”