Rebels Like Us. Liz Reinhardt

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      I attempt to hide my grimace over Doyle’s excitement about dating a cretin like Ansley. Even though I know their story ends in catastrophe, it still bugs me to acknowledge that, of course, there were good times.

      “You know she was the lucky one.” The curve of his grin files down the jagged edge of my jealousy. “Don’t let your ego overinflate, but you’re obviously a pretty great guy. She’s a moron for screwing things up with you.”

      What did that idiot do to pulverize Doyle’s good, strong heart?

      “Winds up our whole relationship was all some big scheme. Jest Ansley’s version of an Ebenezer reality show, with me cast as the dumb redneck boyfriend she was gonna remake how she saw fit and parade around like her little rescue puppy.” He shakes his head. “I was jest too deep in puppy love to open my fool eyes and see it for what it was. She dragged me to the barber to get my hair cut how she liked. Wanted me to quit my family’s business and get a job at her daddy’s office, wanted me to play baseball even though I’d decided I was done. I always got the feeling she wanted me to be like my brother Lee, join the military and wear a uniform all the girls’d drool over. But that’s jest not me. She bought these expensive polos and khakis, said I had to dress nicer when I went out with her parents, then wanted to dress me up all the time. Her parents seemed to like me for myself, I think. Her daddy said he thought Ansley could use someone with a level head around.”

      “I guess her entire family isn’t comprised of morons then,” I mutter begrudgingly.

      “The Stricklands’re an old family, and they like that I’m from an old family too, even if mine don’t have anywhere near the money and power theirs does.” He closes his eyes tight. “I have no clue how long I woulda followed her lead. I was so convinced she was exactly what I wanted, I never let myself think too hard about how we never really had much to say to each other. I didn’t want to face she wasn’t the perfect girl I thought she was. Who wants to admit his girl is mean and shallow? Or that she judges everyone based on their looks, their bloodlines, and their bank accounts?”

      His girl. I have to hog-tie my bucking jealousy.

      “Sounds like you’re describing the Ansley Strickland I met on day one, minute one,” I can’t help quipping.

      He gives me a sheepish smile. “Hey now, go easy on me. She was my childhood crush and the town’s little princess. There’s a lotta deep brainwashing involved in the whole setup.”

      “Fair enough. Besides, I clearly have no room to talk.” I get the feeling we’re almost to the meat of the story, and I’m salivating for it, so I throw Doyle a bone by telling him the still-mortifying story of how my own relationship ended. “So...what finally changed things? For me, it was when one of the girls my ex cheated on me with realized he was a liar with a girlfriend and called to let me know what he’d been doing behind my back. In humiliating detail.”

      Doyle balls his hand into a fist. “Damn dog.”

      “Yeah, he was a total pig. But knowing for sure was a relief. Things hadn’t been all rosy for a while, and I could finally make a decision based on real evidence.”

      “Yep, I get that.” He slides his phone out and rubs his thumb on the screen. “Ansley’d always accidentally add me into these stupid group chats with her cheer squad minions. I hate my phone blowing up unless it’s important, so I jest dropped out of ’em. I left my phone in Brookes’s truck overnight once. By the time I charged it up the next day, I had over a hundred notifications.”

      “Holy crap.”

      “The last bunch were Ansley telling me to call her, saying she had an explanation for everything, to ignore the texts from her friends. It was all jest ‘girl talk.’” His face goes a mottled shade of crimson. “I don’t go lookin’ for trouble, but this time I had to see what had her so panicked.”

      “Oh God.” My heart fractures at the pain and humiliation that registers on Doyle’s face.

      “It was like reading all the ugliest things you ever thought about yourself and your kin. The stuff you pray nobody else sees, even though you know that’s a real long shot.” I’m sure he’s going to leave it vague, but he keeps going. “There was the fact that I talk and dress and act like a redneck. Ansley told her friends she knew I was so in love with her, she could get me to jump off a cliff if she snapped her fingers. That crap didn’t bother me too much though. It was the stuff ’bout my family. That my grandparents were white trash who had a bunch of loser kids, which is why they gotta raise their grandkids. There was stuff ’bout my daddy bein’ the town drunk, how Ansley saw him digging through the garbage behind Randall’s Liquor Store—I never seen him do that, but I guess he might’ve. And my mama—”

      My fury is at its peak now. “What kind of scum breaks the cardinal rule of life—you never talk bad about anyone’s mother.”

      “Problem with Ansley is, she don’t think the rules apply to her.” He blinks hard a few times and his voice cracks a little. “I’m not tryin’ to make excuses for what my mama did, but she got pregnant and married real young. She’d already raised her own brothers and sisters, dropped outta school junior year. Once Malachi went to preschool, she got a job at a gas station. It was her first taste of freedom, working for her own money and all. She started to hang out with some shady people... My mama was always kinda naive. She was livin’ a real wild life, partyin’ and stayin’ out all night like she was a high schooler instead of a mom.”

      “That must’ve been rough.” I put a hand on his arm and squeeze. I know how much it hurts when you think your mother is choosing other people over you.

      “I guess she never really had a lotta choices, so she never realized till it was too late that she wasn’t cut out for the life she got. Anyway, I know full well my mama screwed up, and I don’t know that I ever sorted out how I feel ’bout all that. But when I read the hateful things Ansley said, I realized I could never be with someone so small hearted. I could never be with someone who judged the people I loved like that.”

      “So you broke it off with her?” I watch his mouth move back and forth.

      “Not before I told her all the ugly things people said about her. All the things I closed my ears to when we dated. It shook her up pretty bad. I’d been her biggest supporter, and she really expected we’d pick up where we left off like I’d never seen her true colors. She was cryin’ the whole time I laid into her.”

      “I bet it felt amazing.” Deep in my rotten heart I’m shaking my black pom-poms and cheering Evil Doyle on like the bad influence I am.

      “For a minute.” He shrugs. “I shoulda been honest. But dragging her through the mud the way she did with me and my family means I sunk to her level.”

      “You could never sink to Ansley’s level of evil. She’s like the prototype for a fairy-tale villain. You’re a way better person than her. And you’re a way better person than me, Doyle Rahn.” I tap my phone’s dark screen. “I’m going to call Lincoln. I can’t promise I’ll be super nice, even if he’s in pain.”

      “Aw, that dog don’t deserve anything close to ‘super nice,’” Doyle says with a wicked smile. “I’m gonna jaw with the guys at the tire shop. Half an hour, all right? Then we can do whatever you want.” He jumps out of the truck and lands with a hard thump.

      “Doyle!”

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