Read Online The Boy Who Killed Grant Parker by Kat Spears - Free Book Online

I said.
    â€œI know,” she said. “You moving here, seeing you … have to adjust to a new life. It’s made me think about it even more.”
    I was still formulating a response to Penny’s comment when someone put a heavy hand on my shoulder and the weight of a knee in my back.
    â€œHey, city boy,” Grant said, and I turned to find myself in the light of his easy smile.
    â€œHey, man,” I said as I cracked the beer Penny had handed me. I held up the can I had just finished and said, “Where are you putting the empties? You take them back to recycle?”
    Grant took the can from my hand and flung it into the field as he dropped into a seat beside me in one fluid motion. “I can’t tell if he tries to be funny or if he’s just kind of simple,” Grant said, leaning forward to direct his comment to Penny across my chest.
    â€œYou’re hilarious,” I said with a roll of my eyes. Though Grant came across as the typical jock douche bag at first, I regretted that I had been so quick to judge and dismiss him as a one-dimensional character.
    As I sat there between Grant and Penny, sipping on my beer and swinging my legs off the tailgate, I found myself thinking that maybe my last year of high school wouldn’t be so bad. Earlier that week my whole senior year had stretched out in front of me like a lonely abyss, but now I felt a certain warmth under my skin at the prospect of autumn nights out sipping beer under the stars, weekend fishing trips, and Friday-night football games.
    Maybe it was just the beer talking, but it was the first moment since I had arrived in Ashland that I felt something other than anger, loneliness, or angry loneliness.
    â€œAll right, city boy,” Grant said as he nudged me with his elbow. “Time for your initiation.”
    The unofficial nickname he had given me was starting to wear a groove in my patience, but he seemed to mean it in a good-natured way, so I didn’t correct him. Instead I gave him shit in return.
    â€œIt doesn’t involve having sex with barnyard animals, does it?” I asked as I turned to Grant again. “Because I know how you country boys like to get your kicks.”
    Grant was smiling at my joke, but I thought I detected the glint of anger in his eyes. Before I could really tell if I had insulted him with my comment about sexual relations with barnyard animals, the glint was gone and all that remained was his good-natured smile.
    â€œIf that’s what you’re into, you’ll have to manage that in your own free time,” he said as he slapped me on the upper back, hard enough that it actually hurt, but I fought back a wince. I didn’t want him to think I was a complete wimp, which, if I’m being totally honest, I am. “Your initiation,” Grant said as I felt the others go silent behind us, “is going to be your first cow tipping.” A stifled laugh behind us from the group. I knew it wasn’t Tony, since he never laughed at anything, but this seemed to generally amuse everyone.
    â€œYou’re joking,” I said.
    Grant shook his head. “Nope.”
    â€œHow the hell am I supposed to do that?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s easy,” Grant said. “Just walk on up to one of them out sleeping in the field and push it over. But you’ve got to really get your shoulder into it.” With this he demonstrated as he dropped his shoulder and knocked his weight against mine in the parody of a football tackle.
    Since we had arrived past dark I hadn’t really taken much notice of the few cows scattered in the pasture. They were just part of the scenery. Now I turned to glance around the fields, only one or two of the cows now visible in the dark.
    â€œLuke, you don’t have to,” Penny said as I sat considering what I should do.
    â€œHe wants to,” Grant said. “He wants to prove he isn’t just a city boy.”