COWGIRL

We often hear expressions like scarred for life, but you may have noticed that there isn't such a handy line for the positive side of things. Trust me when I say that good memories can also leave a permanent mark in your life.

During my first year in Blackwell Academy, I decided to use my first vacation to escape to the Oregon countryside so that I could be away from everything for a while. Truly, a testament to how much I was enjoying my school life.

Since it was a cheap trip, my parents were happy to finance it, glad that their little introvert wanted to go out into the world on her own. And so, there I was among the huge patches of golden wheat and barley and the long stretches of road that reach the horizon uninterrupted.

To this day, I still can't wrap my head around how huge a coincidence it was for me to have such a meeting there. If I remember correctly, I considered taking that ranch tour because the place looked gorgeous. Then, I saw from a distance that the animals were free range and that convinced me.

Typical for me at the time, I completely ignored the guided tour and went about the place taking pictures at my own pace. I had no idea at the time, but the moment I decided to rejoin the group was going to completely change my life.

"…and that's the story of how the Chase Ranch expanded to the Oregon farmland. And now, I'll leave y'all to the show. I'll be joinin' y'all again right after to carry on with the tour."

There was no mistaking that slightly raspy—and admittedly sultry—voice, despite the accent and the incongruous location.

As the tour moved on, I saw her. The Victoria Chase from Blackwell Academy, standing on the dirt in a dusty farm and wearing an excessively stereotypical farm girl outfit. Her torso was covered by an unbuttoned checkered short sleeve shirt tied over her midriff. It revealed so much as to offer glimpses of her bra and left her toned belly completely exposed. Below that, her hips were barely clothed by denim shorts so small that the color of her panties could be gleaned over the waistline. Of course she didn't leave out the cowboy hat, leather belt with a huge buckle, and there was just no way her feet wouldn't be stuck in a pair of cowboy boots.

However, as much as all the exposed skin and the uncharacteristic clothing caught my attention, what surprised me the most was her smile. There she was, practically beaming at all these strangers, and it was like a ray of sunshine piercing through a canopy of trees in a dark forest.

I have to admit that, yes, I developed a crush on Victoria Chase the moment I saw her in my very first photography class. Being mostly physical, though, the emotions got beaten out of me pretty quickly by her horrible attitude toward everyone she considered below her, which included me.

There were other positive emotions I still felt toward Victoria during our high school years, like a little admiration for her work. Traces of physical attraction still remained, too, even after a year of witnessing what a raging bitch she could be. The latter became painfully obvious the moment I saw that smile, one she had never once shown in Blackwell. My heart skipped a beat, the stupid, silly thing, instantly stoking the flames of attraction once again.

Conversely, the moment she saw me, her expression soured and twisted, and her previously resplendent face became the horrible one I was so well acquainted with in school.

"Fuck," she muttered, tugging down on the brim of her hat.

She then proceeded to offer me a forced smile that was more a twisted grimace. It was so bad, I would've preferred it if she had just met me with her usual hostility, especially after seeing her smile as honestly and openly as she did for her customers.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said while walking toward me, "if it ain't Maxine Caulfield."

"It's just Max."

"Now, honey, we ain't that well acquainted, so it's either Caulfield or Maxine."

Ugh. I rolled my eyes. "Maxine is fine, then."

As she stopped before me, she turned her head toward one of the buildings and then put her index and thumb to her lips. The whistle she produced was so loud it made me flinch.

While we waited for whatever that whistle was supposed to make happen, she began tapping her foot and offered me another forced smile. I grimaced right back at her and began rubbing my left arm, a nervous tick that I still have four years later.

After a minute or so, a young man dressed in typical cowboy clothes came running toward us. He smiled and tipped his hat at me, and then Victoria leaned close to his ear and whispered something that he acknowledged with a nod of his head. He left as quickly as he arrived.

"Now, come with." Without waiting for any acknowledgment on my part, Victoria grabbed my wrist and began dragging me toward the back of one of the barns.

Her grip was like a vice. There was no way I could've freed myself even if I had tried. Before seeing her in a ranch, I would've never imagined that this thin, wiry, almost waifish girl had such strength. The thought that she was going to murder and bury me right there behind that very stereotypical red and white barn did briefly cross my mind. However, I quickly dismissed it. Not because I had any faith in Victoria, mind you, but because there were plenty of people around and I could just scream my lungs out to get their attention.

Once we were away from prying eyes, she rounded up on me. "So, whatcha doin' 'round these parts, Maxine?"

The aggression in her tone was unmistakable, so I opted for the truth. "I—uh… I just wanted to get away from everything."

She arched a perfectly done eyebrow at me. "Well ain't that swell. And you just happened to stumble upon this here ranch, huh?"

I nodded with some urgency, not trusting my voice not to crack. Even if I had the means to get help, I was still a bit afraid of what she might do to me before help arrived.

There was no reply from Victoria, she simply leaned against the wooden wall with one shoulder and adopted a pensive expression.

After a few minutes of strained silence, she finally said, "Well, that ain't no matter for concern anyway. I reckon we should just get down to business." She approached me, her eyes trying to burn holes through me.

What business she meant, I had no idea, but I nodded anyway.

"Well, what do you want in order to keep those purdy lips sealed, hm? Money? A roll in the hay?"

Did she just say I had pretty lips? My mind threw all other thoughts out the window as it reeled. Damned teenage hormones! I reflexively touched my lips and Victoria immediately caught the scent of blood in the water.

"Oh? A good ol' fuckin' it is then." She grinned wolfishly and then bit her lower lip.

It wasn't until Victoria had pressed me against the wall and was holding my chin captive, her lips a mere inch away from mine, that I reacted.

"No!" I pushed her away with both hands on her shoulders.

"What the heck is your problem?!" She slammed a hand on the barn wall. "Hick pussy ain't good enough for a fine yankee gal like you, or what?"

Panic arose in me. Her height superiority and anger made her intimidating enough, but add to that her mannerisms and expressions, and she was downright terrifying. I looked at the one arm of hers that was beside me and felt cornered. Hell, I felt surrounded.

My mouth just went off without me. "No! You see, it's not like that. Like, at all. Actually, I've had a crush on you from day one. But then you turned out to be this huge asshole bully and that killed the feelings. Then, I saw you here, smiling all prettily and acting nice, not being an absolute douche, and they came back. So, yeah, I'm sure your pussy is very pretty and all but my problem is that I'm really confused and I don't know what's what and this is all moving really, really fast."

I took a deep breath and looked up at Victoria's face. She had taken a step back and was staring at me like I had just grown a second head.

"Awright. Now, I s'pose I could hold my horses a li'l bit."

"Yeah." I sighed with relief. It felt like all my muscles relaxed at once.

"But that roll in the hay is still on the cards, right?" She looked away and kicked the dirt, swinging her arms slightly. "Because, I've gotta say, I've always found you mighty cute."

What?!

"What?!"

She tugged on the brim of her hat and looked down, biting her lower lip. "Yup…"

What the hell was going on? Victoria Chase, shy girl. I was sure that that was what going mad felt like.

Again, my mouth got ahead of me and I blurted the first thing that came to my mind. "Why are you such a bitch then?"

She snorted and then sighed tiredly. "Well, you know how it is 'round those parts. Gotta keep 'em appearances. Same goes for hidin' my accent. Anyone finds out and there ain't no one who'd cross the road to piss on me if I was on fire."

I spluttered. "Then—then why didn't you double down when you saw me?"

"Eh." She shrugged noncommittally. "Cat was outta the bag anyways. Besides, you've never been a judgmental asshole like 'em stuck ups of Blackwell."

Yeah, that made sense. A lot, probably most, of the student body had their noses stuck so far up in the air that they might drown in a storm.

"I suppose…" Something clicked, though. "But, why try to buy my silence, then?"

Victoria huffed and scratched the side of her nose. "You caught that, huh?"

I crossed my arms, feeling confident that at least for that brief moment I had some form of advantage. "So?"

"Well, old habits die hard, honey. See, I wanted to justify gettin' that roll in the hay, you see? If you were blackmailin' me, then it ain't like I wanted you or nothin'."

Even if I wanted to spare Victoria's feelings, there was no stopping the colossally dramatic sigh and eye roll that I gave her. "For fuck's sake."

Looking at her boots, she stuck her fingertips in the tiny pockets of her tiny shorts and kicked some dirt. "Yeah."

"All you ever had to do was be nice to me! We'd be married by now!"

Realizing what I had just said, I clamped my hands over my mouth. Victoria was practically gaping at me.

"I have to go," I muttered, pushing past her to be anywhere else.

That vice grip of hers appeared around my wrist once again. "Don't. Don't go. Please? Just—just… I don't know. Dinner? Stay for dinner?"

I turned to glare at where her hand was grasping me and tried to will it away. When that obviously didn't work, I looked up to confront her. What I found scattered my thoughts to the gentle breeze that was blowing past us. Victoria's face looked pained, her eyes were pleading and brimming with unshed tears.

A few seconds went by as we stared into each other's eyes in silence. When I finally managed to gather my thoughts, I turned around and tugged on my captive hand. Even if the flames of my crush for her had been revived, there was no way I was forgiving her after all of ten minutes of earnestness on her part. After all, she had treated me like the dirt under her shoes for most of a year. Although I was the forgiving kind, I was no saint, not like Kate Marsh.

Victoria sniffled behind me, clutching my wrist like her life depended on it. "Please. Stay for dinner?" Her voice broke. "You can meet my folks."

Crying was foul play. It was the below-the-belt move of human interactions. Where was a committee to declare the illegality of this move and spare me?

I tugged on my hand again but it was more of a token gesture. There was no actual effort to back my resistance. Suddenly, I felt drained. All my righteous indignation had been washed away by a few milliliters of salty water shed from my former tormentor's eyes. God, I was so pathetic.

"Fine," I said, still trying to sound angry. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." When I turned around, I found the prim and proper Victoria Chase wiping her eyes and nose with her forearm.

"Well, awright." She let go of my arm.

"Now what?" I said.

"What do you say to a private tour of the ranch?" She tried for a smile, and although it was weak, it was honest.

With just that, I was already beginning to feel at ease around her. I was a lost cause.

Not entirely, though. I rolled my eyes and said, "Are you still trying to get me to roll in the hay with you?"

Victoria put her hands on her hips and looked at me with wide eyes. "Well, I never! Now, Maxine Caulfield, who do you take me for? Some hussy?"

I gave her my best impression of resting bitch face.

"Pshaw. Fine. Just a li'l." She made the gesture for little with her index and thumb.

"No." I crossed my arms. "There won't be any rolling in the hay, okay?"

"But…" She pouted cutely. God, I was so weak.

"No."

"How about a li'l kissin'?"

"No."

"Aw, shucks." She kicked at the dirt like a petulant child. "Come on!"

"Promise, Victoria. Promise me you won't try anything."

She huffed. "Why? It ain't like I'd do anythin' against your will."

The ground between us suddenly seemed very interesting. However, if we were going to even try being civilized toward each other, we had to move past emotional snags like this one.

"Exactly," I muttered.

"What was that? Can't hear ya, chewin' your words like that."

I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut. "Exactly!"

"What in tarnation do you mean?"

I felt tired all over again. "I can't say no to you, Victoria." I sighed. "Sooner or later I'm going to cave. You're too pretty. So, you have to promise you won't try anything. I have no willpower against you."

"You think I'm too purdy? Yeehaw!"

"Really?" I rolled my eyes. "That's all you got from that. Didn't I just tell you I had a crush on you?"

"Well, now, that may be true." She rubbed the back of her neck. "But it ain't the same as you thinkin' I'm too purdy."

I growled something at her to mask my embarrassment and began walking away.

"Aw, come on," I heard Victoria say right behind me. "Now, can't a gal feel flattered, or what?"

I kept marching as fast as my shorter legs carried me. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Where's my private tour, miss tour guide?"

Victoria jumped in front of me. "Well, say no more, ma'am. Come with." She took hold of my wrist once more and began dragging me behind her.

Once we had whiled away a couple hours touring the ranch, it came time for the promised dinner. I wasn't looking forward to it that much and Victoria noticed.

"What's wrong, sweetie? You nervous?"

"Yeah. Of course I am. You're always complaining about how your parents are worse assholes than Satan."

"Aw, Max!" She guffawed and rubbed my back. "Now, honey, those were all fabrications. They're decent folk. You know. Appearances."

She rolled her eyes dramatically and I let out a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding. Before we walked into the dining room, she took off her hat and threw it on a coat hanger. She mussed her own hair a little and then walked me through the door with an arm across my shoulders.

"Howdy, ma," she greeted the woman by the stove. Then, she inclined her head toward the man sitting at the table. "Pa."

"Oh!" the woman exclaimed, throwing the towel she had in her hands toward the sink. "Victoria Maribeth! Now, why didn't you tell us we were havin' a guest?"

Victoria smiled the smile that seemed like it could pierce darkness. "Ma, Pa, this is Maxine Caulfield."

The man, who had seemed quite stoic up to this point, stood up and practically appeared right in front of me.

"So, you're the famous Maxine Caulfield." He smiled broadly and grabbed my hand to shake it while clapping my shoulder. I could see where his daughter got her charming smile.

"Famous?" I looked toward Victoria. She very pointedly avoided my gaze.

Before I could recover from Victoria's father onslaught, her mother was already pulling me into a tight hug and kissing my cheeks. "Aw, sweetie, we've heard so much aboutcha!"

"So much?" I looked to my side again. Victoria was still very pointedly ignoring the proceedings.

"Come now," her father said, taking a seat at the table once more and gesturing toward another chair. "Take a seat, Maxine."

I did as instructed, and almost immediately, Victoria's mother placed a plate and some cutlery in front of me. "Thank you," I acknowledged.

"Now, don't mention it, sweetie. Anything for the gal our li'l Maribeth has been pinin' for."

I looked toward Victoria.

"Ma!" she shouted.

Her mother chuckled mirthfully. "She hates it when we call her by her middle name."

"Really?" I said, savoring that delicious morsel of information.

Victoria squirmed in her seat. She was beet red. "Ma!" she shouted again.

The hearty laughter of Victoria's father filled the room.

I could see that Victoria was absolutely mortified but I could also see that she looked happy. I could very easily get addicted to seeing happiness on her face. It suited her. She looked even more beautiful. Words like striking, arresting and dazzling came to mind. I was a goner from that very moment, although I only realized it years later. Still, I decided to drive the last nail into Victoria's coffin. Even I could be a little bloodthirsty sometimes.

"So, Maribeth, I think you're off the hook about the whole Maxine thing."

She pouted and huffed, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but I thought she also blushed. "Ma!" she shouted for the third time.

This time her mother and I joined in the laughter.

That's about it. As people say, the rest is history. Four years later and I'm still fending off all the rolls in the hay my beautiful girlfriend wants to have. It's just for show, though, more like a little tradition between us. I love that she wants me in every way imaginable—hashtag all the kinks—hashtag sore all over. Okay, moving on.

Looking back, I'm more than glad that my first year at Blackwell was a horror show. I wouldn't have it any other way.

FIN

Author's Note: I'm not even a USA native, so my southerner written speech won't stand to scrutiny by any stretch of the imagination. I did do some research but, yeah… Hopefully, it manages to convey what is supposed to and is not too jarring. I got the idea for this story after watching a video about Cindy Aurum from Final Fantasy 15, which for some reason made me think about Victoria Chase. I suppose it was the blonde hair. Yeah, I'm simple that way. Anyway, I liked the character in no small part because of her accent in the English dub. I love the southern accent and the whacky expressions the people use.