Dammit! Why did Prissy Missy Custer have to be here?!
Today? And right now?
Izzy ran down the paved walkways, past old brick buildings of State Fair's past. Away from the bandstand wheezily playing bluegrass, petting zoos, a group of teens with smelly contraband hunched with their goodies and cut a detour through the mule barn away from the agricultural stands.
It started simple. It was around noon, Dollface was hungry, (like always) and Izzy tried not to be. (Like always.)
Dollface had pulled out her rubber banded wallet at the Pork Place, and ordered a pork burger for herself, and a pork hotdog for Izzy.
Izzy had taken it and followed Dollface to a long table set up in the crowded lunch hall. Fine, whatever. Lots of people, but that's fine.
Kinda loud too, but, yeah, okay. If Dollface, who was known for an aversion towards crowds could handle it, so could Izzy.
She could've handled everything fine if it weren't for that, that, that GIRL!
If Izzy was meaner, she would've said worse, but 'bitch' is such a harsh word and Missy waaaaaaaasssssss related to Dollface and she didn't want to upset anyone and-
Izzy had almost gotten a bite in before...
"Oh look, the pig is committing cannibalism!" And a chorus of snorts and snuffles from Prissy Missy's posse.
"Hi Missy!" Dollface jumped up and shouted estatically over the crowd milling about, making Izzy recoil. She half expected a small, skinny Dollface to fall onto the table and into her lap. Missy ignored her cousin Dollface in her big, round sunglasses, ready to go in for her real kill. Izzy shamefully turned in her metal chair to face her fate.
"Whatcha doin' with m'dress there, lil'piggy?" She rocked on her heels, smirking. The girls behind her, a permanent entourage of mean snickered.
Of course.
Great.
Great.
GREAT.
Izzy felt her round, freckled face burn as the giggles died down, seeing Missy in the same dress as her. It looked like Missy never bothered to get it properly tailored like Izzy had, which would later on warrant a snicker in the school's lunchroom.
For once, Izzy had a leg up on someone.
"Hey, Missy, that ain't very nice o'ya." Dollface piped, pushing her neon green sunglasses up her surprisingly bumpy nose.
"Shut up, Space Cadet." Missy narrowed her eyes. The posse sneered at Dollface, then back to Izzy. She retrained her focus on Izzy as her posse leered at her, "You should take that off, it makes you look fat. Looks better on me, anyway."
"Everythin' makes me look fat." Flopped out of Izzy's mouth to a chorus of laughter from the coven.
"So ya, like, admit it, right?" Missy's ruddy hazel eyes narrowed as she licked her thin lips, getting lipstick on her teeth like Princess sometimes did. Izzy looked her up and down. Missy's dress may have been the same as Izzy's, but boy did it fit weirdly. It was much too loose.
Well, that's funny.
Something was said after that, the coven and their leader began getting a little too physical, and Dollface was pushed over the edge and lunged at Missy, which scattered the posse in a chorus of shrieks, that, just like their giggles, felt like sand in peanut butter.
Izzy had started the tussle, and any minute now everyone, including Missy's posse and Izzy herself would get banned from the place before even getting lunch.
So why not run?
But Dollface had really wanted lunch here, and that she only had so much from work, and that she was treating Izzy today and that losing money because Izzy had started a fight she couldn't finish and made Dollface step up and-
The thoughts made Izzy's eyes sting, she'd messed up again and now someone else was gonna suffer.
So she ran all the way to her favorite livestock house. (Well, other than the poultry and rabbits section.)
Looking around, Izzy could see she was in the dairy barn, near the ice cream factory.
Cow heaven.
She leaned against the wall, bent over and panting, promising herself she'd come back after lunch. She could breathe easy now.
But that's when the lead lining started, and Dollface hated sitting in the arena when there was more fun to be had at the Ag center or the little carnival just a few livestock houses over.
Jeez, Izzy was out of it. Maybe she'd take Dolli Mae's offer to hang out and exercise more seriously. Being muscular was one thing, but running was another!
She rubbed her hand over her panting mouth and stared straight into the eyes of an angel.
Okay, he wasn't an angel, per se, but the way the light hit his downy gold hair and the barn dust made a halo of gold around him. The hair that hadn't separated out in little downy flyaways fell around his face like a waterfall of honey. His watery blue eyes met Izzy's gaze.
"Ya might wanna close yer mouth, 't'flies'll get in."
Oops. Izzy snapped her jaw shut with an audible 'pop'.
A large, middle-aged farmer in a green shirt and khakis matching the boy steered a wheelbarrow of cow shit through the doorway and past her.
"Are ya lookin' fer somethin'?" The boy said, fluffing the very fuzzy cow next to him in the open air stall.
Izzy didn't find words, so she opted for a shake of the head, suddenly conscious of how she was standing. She straightened herself out and fluffed her skirt.
"Then have a nice day then." He turned his green shirted back to her, blushing.
"Now why on earth are ya starin' at my son like that, lil lady?" The older farmer, a grisled man built like any other midwesterner over the age of fifty asked, louder than Izzy would've been comfortable with. "It's leadin' day, let 'em add th'last touches t'Bossy."
"Bossy?" She repeated over the fans.
"Bossy." He confirmed. "Now why ya starin' at m'boy Ben?"
"Oh, I ain't, uh, starin' at Ben," she nervously rushed, "I-I just never seen a cow so fluffy!"
"Uh-huh." He raised his brows with the kind of myrrh men like him had. "Drowline. Jim Drowline."
She looked at the hand Jim offered and, remembering the wheelbarrow now sitting in a corner, pretended she didn't see it.
"Fair 'nough." Jim shrugged. "Hey Benji, give Bossy a break, will ya?"
Ben grunted, then turned to place the curry comb in a bucket.
"Hey, can I uh..." How does one ask permission to pet a cow? She knew how to ask to play with a chicken, but not a cow. Here goes nothin'! "Pet 'er?"
Ben raised his eyebrows. "Go crazy."
She stepped forward, practically touching shoulders with him. Izzy tried to gulp down a squeak of excitement as she pressed a hand into Bossy's great big side. She lifted her hand, and let out a laugh as it left behind a perfect imprint.
She leaned against the cow in an almost-hug, really wanting to shove her face into Bossy's side, but that would be just plain weird at this point and might ruin Ben's hard work.
"Dad, stop starin' at me like that."
"Not doin' a thang Ben, not a thang."