1
Juniper
I try to contain my eye rolling, but it’s hard. My parents are sitting across from me at the dinner table, droning on and on about how I’ll learn so much at this year-long program located on a dude ranch in the middle of Nowhere, Wyoming.
And that’s saying something, I think to myself with a smirk.
I’ve lived in Lake Puckett my entire life and the only good thing about my hometown is that we recently got a back-up generator for storm season.
Meanwhile, the place my parents are shipping me off to is even more desolate than my hometown. The Lazy R isn’t just a ranch; it’s a reform program for troubled young women like me. So instead of spending my final year of high school at home among my friends, my mom and dad have determined that I need to ‘get my act together’ and ‘grow up into the person they know I can be.’ What does that even mean?
“Juniper,” my mom’s soft voice disrupts my internal musings. “I know you’re eighteen, but your father and I are both pleased that you’ve agreed to this option.”
“That being said,” my dad’s voice booms throughout our tiny kitchen, “you may technically be an adult, but you’re our daughter, and you will learn to behave before we let you out into the world.”
My parents – Jim and Jana Rossi – are what some people might call the salt of the earth. They are the kind of folks who have worked hard their entire lives to see that my own life turns out better than their own. They claim this decision to send me away is for my own good, but I have the feeling that part of their motivation is at least partially selfish: they don’t know how to cope with the fact that I’m not the perfect little girl they so desperately want me to be. They wish I were interested in Miss Rodeo pageants and baking cookies for our local fair, but let’s just say my tastes run more dangerous.
“Look, I agreed to this program on a trial basis,” I remind them sharply, “and also because it was this or juvie.”
At the mention of juvenile detention, my mom clutches her dinner napkin to her mouth and whimpers softly.
“You’re upsetting your mother,” Jim warns me. “Cut it out right now, Junie. I’m not going to ask twice.”
I sigh deeply and lean back in my chair, hating that I keep having this conversation with them. It’s like being stuck in Groundhog Day over and over again, and it’s exhausting. In my heart, I know my mom and dad mean well. I also know that I’ve never felt like they truly understood nor appreciated me. I may not be the best student academically, but I try. More importantly, I’m not the delinquent my school record seems to indicate.
I try to not-so-subtly remind them of this detail for the hundredth time, tired of their lecturing. “You know, Tammie Mae asked me to put that match in her locker. I was only being a good friend,” I say wearily. “It’s not my fault she wanted the attention and couldn’t figure out how to get it for herself.”
Unfortunately, my parents seem to have become immune to my charms and equally tired of this conversation.
“It was reckless and childish behavior,” my dad says tightly, refusing to look in my eye. “You’re lucky the punishment wasn’t more severe. You could have burned down the whole school.”
“That would hardly be an accomplishment, considering the building used to be a barn,” I snap back.
“Okay, truce,” my mom, ever the peacemaker, holds a hand up in front of each of us. “Jim, we’ve talked about this enough, and what Juniper did is in the past. Juniper, you attending this program is the only way forward. End of debate.”
My dad and I sit across from each other, both still fuming. I wish I didn’t look like him so much, but unfortunately, I know the family resemblance is strong.
“Mom’s right,” I offer in a steady voice, biting the inside of my cheek to control my anger. “I don’t want to keep re-living this fight.”
“Agreed,” my dad says quietly. I look at the older man, who seems smaller than he ever has before. Has he shrunk with age? Although Jim has a booming voice, I know that the man has a soft spot for me, even when I mess things up. To be honest, I hate that I keep disappointing him.
“All right then,” my mom says in a chipper tone. “Juniper, aren’t you going to spend the night with Bess tonight?”
I nod at the half-truth, half-lie. “Yep, I told her I’d get over there around eight o’clock or so.” That part is true. I am going to spend the night at my best friend’s house, but my parents don’t know that we’re planning to have a wild night out over at Skye One – one of the few local bars that doesn’t check IDs.