Sorority Girls With Guns (25 page)

“
Don't worry about that, it happens all the time,” Dusty says, waving a hand like he's swatting a fly.

Tiffany wipes her face on the sleeve of her Forever 21 western shirt, not caring that she's smearing lipstick all over it. Then she pulls the shirt collar up to her face and uses the inside of the shirt to wipe her mouth again. “All the time? And you kiss me with that mouth?”

“
It's just horse spit. Most horse diseases are species-specific and won't hurt humans,” Dusty says with a shrug. “Now pull the bridle onto her head.”

Tiffany grabs the leather strap contraption and jerks it over the horse's head, probably too roughly, because the horse neighs and starts to rear up.

“
Easy, girl.” Dusty pats the horse down and shoots a look at Tiffany. “You have to be careful of her ears. Try gently folding one ear back at a time and sliding the bridle over it.”

Tiffany glares at Dusty like she'd rather slide his dead body into the trunk of her car, but she does it. The horse doesn't buy her act though – she keeps making angry-horse noises and tossing her head around.

“
Hold still, you stupid horse!” Tiffany yells in frustration, jerking the bridle over both ears at once. Rosie tosses her head again, and this time Tiffany whirls around so she can't get hit with any spittle.

But Rosie doesn't stop with tossing her head – after she whips it up she jerks it back down and tries to nuzzle Tiffany, who does actually look like she's about to cry. Seeing the horse's nose on her shoulder, she jumps a foot in the air. “Get away from me, you nasty horse!” she shrieks.

And that's when Rosie tosses back her head, lets out a really loud neighish sort of sound and whacks her snout into Tiffany's backside, throwing her off balance. Tiffany trips and lands facedown in the hay.

“
You said that horse was gentle!” she yells at Dusty as he rushes to help her up. She slaps him away, and then she wrinkles her nose and looks at the palm of her hand. “Ewwwwww! Did I just put my hand in-”

“
Horse shit? Yeah, you did!” Dusty yells, looking down at the nasty brown smear where Tiffany just smacked him on his sleeve.

And then something wonderful happens: He rips off the shirt and tosses it in the corner of the stall, revealing his sexy six-pack. I realize I'm about to start drooling and slam my mouth shut.

“
This is all your fault!” Tiffany yells, and then she slaps Dusty in the face. With the horse-poop hand.

“
That should be some sort of crime,” I mutter, and Richard snorts and rolls his eyes in my direction.

“
This is
not
my fault!” Dusty yells. “You upset Rosie by roughing her up. You were angry and she could tell. You never wanted anything to do with horses and everyone knows it, including the horse. You caused this mess with your bad attitude!”

Tiffany's mouth makes an “O” and I realize she's trying to reconcile his accusation with her happy-crappy experiment. “I do not have a bad attitude!” She actually manages to yell while smiling, which is almost as ridiculous-looking as Richard at his party the other night. “I embraced the opportunities the universe gave me, and this horse-” She points a shaking finger at Rosie. “This horse ruined my day with
her
bad attitude. And now you're ruining it with
your
bad attitude!” She turns and runs out of the barn, back toward the ranch house, where I assume she's planning to wash her hands so much it'd make an obsessive-compulsive green with envy.

Charlie looks at Dusty, standing there with horse shit on his face, and starts chuckling. “You know, I was worried you'd be actual competition for a while there,” he says, shaking his head. “But it's obvious Tiffany doesn't want anything to do with you and this horse ranch business. No pun intended.” Then he launches into another round of laughter.

Wiping futilely at his face, Dusty glares at Charlie. “You want some of this, man?” He asks, waving a shit-smeared hand at Charlie. “How about if I give you a taste in that big mouth of yours? You want to keep talking here?”

Charlie abruptly stops laughing. “I'm going to go wait in the car,” he says, and bolts.

“
Anyone else want to learn how to saddle a horse?” Dusty asks, looking at our group.

“
No, thanks,” I say. “It's like the bad country song says – I'd rather ride a cowboy.”

With that, I turn and walk out of the barn.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I find Tiffany in the ranch house, wiping her hands on a faded yellow dish towel with a picture of chickens embroidered on it. “I know, I know, you told me so,” she yells as I walk in.

“
I didn't say that.” I sit on the couch. “But if you're talking about this happy attitude thing-”

“
I know you think it's a dumb idea, but according to the book jacket, people have seriously changed their lives just by changing their attitudes!” Tiffany wails.

I raise my eyebrows. “How's it working for you so far?”

“
There's room for improvement, but I'm still hopeful.” Tiffany sits on the couch next to me.

“
Okay, there's the problem,” I explain. “Normal people find it really irritating to hear stuff like that when something goes wrong. And just because the book jacket says that two people changed their lives, doesn't mean it's true. Maybe the people they used as examples just happened to get lucky.”

“
I've really been trying to do everything the book says,” Tiffany says, rubbing her palm on the arm of the couch as if she's still not sure it's clean. “I'm trying not to complain about things as much. I'm trying to see everything as an opportunity instead of a problem. Why wouldn't people like that?”

“
Because refusing to face reality never solved any problems,” I say. “And if nobody every complained about anything, where would we be? Do you think anyone would have invented electricity if everyone was all, 'I'm grateful for this great opportunity to walk into a wall' every time it got dark?”

“
I hate to admit that you're right, but I think maybe you are,” Tiffany mumbles.

“
And I was also right all those times I told you not to try to change yourself for a guy,” I say. “While Dusty is admittedly scorching hot, I don't think he's the right guy for you long-term. You have nothing in common.”

“
Now that's not true,” Dusty says, walking in the door. Apparently he got the horse shit off his face, although I still wouldn't want to kiss him, and it's the first time I've felt that way all day.

“
She's right,” Tiffany says, standing up. “And I think it's time for us to go.”

“
Wait, please, just give me five minutes,” Dusty says. “I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I shouldn't have pushed you to bridle Rosie. But think what a great scene that was for your reality show on GluedToYou! It was comic gold. And when we have our own show, I promise you'll never have to deal with horses again if you don't want to.”

“
Our own show? What are you talking about?” Tiffany's brow adds another zero to some Botox doctor's future paycheck. “You've seen our segment about economizing on GluedToYou?”

“
Yes, I have, and I know what you're doing,” Dusty says, reaching for her hand.

She jerks it away. “What are you talking about?”

He looks back and forth, between the two of us. “Well, most people who do a series on GluedToYou want to get their own show. And I know you and your friends want to have one on economizing-” He nods to me. “-and that's great. But think how much fun it would be if you had your own spin-off? Just think – sorority girl meets ranch life! We'll use today's scene from the barn for our pilot, and you won't have to deal with horses anymore. But we can do other stuff, like hang out at the local bar and ride mechanical bulls and-”

Tiffany's looking almost as disgusted as she did when she realized she'd just given herself a horseshit manicure. “So you were just trying to use me?” she yells. “You lying sack of shit! What happened to not caring about money? I thought you said you loved your simple life here on this ranch!”

“
I do!” Dusty waves his arm around the ranch house. “I want to live a simple life on my own ranch, not spend my life working for someone else. And I might even be losing that! Have you noticed that this place is falling apart? If the owner goes bankrupt, I lose my job, my place to live.”

“
So you thought you could use me to get a reality show paycheck for yourself!” Tiffany snarls.

“
No!” Dusty yells, raking a hand through his hair. “I swear Tiffany, I wasn't lying. I really do like you. And I wanted to go out with someone who didn't care about money, who just wanted to be with me. After spending time with you, I started to feel like we could have that.”

He sits down on the edge of the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. Holy hell, that guy has a sexy lean. “And then I got to watching your reality series on GluedToYou, and I realized we could have our own show. We'd live our simple life together and we'd never have to worry about money. That's all. And we could still have that.”

Tiffany shakes her head, her mouth turned up in a pout that could be an ad for a collagen company. “Even if I believed you, we still wouldn't be right for each other, Dusty. I don't want a simple life. I tried to convince myself that I did, but now I realize that I don't. I want something better, and I don't want to have to spend my life on a farm to get it. I'm sure you'll find a girl who feels the way you do some day, but I'm not that girl.”

With that, she turns and heads for the door.

“
It makes me really sad to say this, but I'm not that girl either,” I tell Dusty as I follow her.

                                                                               
***

  “
So what did we all learn from that experience?” Richard muses on the long ride home. He's already played Tiffany's breakup video on his phone. (She told him it was okay, and that she wanted us to see what a jerk he was. She even posted it right away.)

“
We learned that poor people will use each other for a payday just as fast as they'll use a rich person,” I say. “There are just more opportunities to use rich people.”

“
We learned that Mr. Lone Star isn't the right guy for Tiffany, even if he does have a six-pack that would make Budweiser jealous,” Morgan says, stepping on the gas. Tiffany asked her to drive because she was too upset.

“
You know, I'd never try to use you to get my own reality show,” Charlie says to Tiffany. “And I'd still like to go to the benefit with you tomorrow night.”

“
I'll consider your offer,” Tiffany says, shooting him a look that suggests his chances will be significantly better if he stops speaking now.

For once, Charlie uses the right brain and shuts up.

“
Did you notice that even though Dusty says he doesn't care about money - and based on his goal of living an icky country life with horses and mud, I'm inclined to believe him – a lack of money is still causing him problems?” I ask. “That's why it's unfair for anyone to claim that money isn't important,
Richard
.”

Richie returns my glare. “He made it an issue, by making money more important that Tiffany.”

I roll my eyes. “And what do you think will happen to him when the ranch goes under and he loses his job, his place to live?”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “He'll go on unemployment and welfare and live off the rest of us. I think I want my taxes back.”

Richard groans. “You're right, Charlie, that's what every poor person wants. It's our dream to go on welfare and live the high life off people like you. Hey, how much do you pay in taxes anyway? You're a student. You don't have even a part-time job.”

Charlie frowns, scratches his head. “Well...I'm going to start paying taxes soon, when I graduate from college and get my trust fund.”

“
Assuming your mom forgives you for not going to work in her business?” I ask, and Charlie twitches his head in surprise.

“
How the hell did you know about that?”

“
Your mom cut you off too?” Tiffanys asks, pushing her sunglasses back up on her head and focusing her red-rimmed eyes on Charlie, who's still glaring at me.

I roll one shoulder back. “I hear things. I might have heard you screaming into your phone about needing money for your 'edumacation'. You were pretty loud you know.”

“
It was a party. I assumed everyone was drunk.” Charlie looks at me like I broke some sort of law.

“
Wait, you mean you guys really are as broke as you've been pretending to be?” Morgan asks, and the car fills with the sound of crickets chirping.

Richard shakes his head. “I'm not forfeiting the bet, and cut off or not, they're still better off than they've been pretending to be.”

“
I will be once I beg my mom's forgiveness and she gives me some of my money back. Hopefully,” Charlie says.