I had been quite determined to stay out of trouble, and for a nearly a month after the fight at the bar I did. Actually, I didn't even find more trouble, but I suppose it sort of found me. It wasn't supposed to lead me becoming acquainted with Cole's paddle that hung on the wall of her bar. It didn't even start in the bar.
It started at the cafe 'Round the Corner. Yeah, that's what's called. I'd been in Apostrophe, Nebraska for nearly six months and had come to realize that the wild-west-esque town had some sort of unwritten rule that all businesses have an apostrophe in them. All nine businesses. Not really a tourist attraction, but a cute quirk all the same.
My goals of hiding from life were going swimmingly. I rented a room from O'er the Barrel Tavern, they had an inn on the second floor that consisted of six rooms. One through three were storage, room number 4 was mine, room five was in disrepair, and room six at end of the hall I'd never seen, though I come to realize the bartender, Collete "Cole" Summers likely slept there.
It wasn't a bad set up over-all. I was getting to know the town better since Cole stressed the importance of doing so after I'd gotten into a fight with a local good ol' boy a couple months prior.
"People don't know you, Cat." She'd said to me as we'd emerged from her back room behind the bar the morning after the fight, a sort of cross between an office and a living room that she rarely invited guests too. I'd been sent back there to cool down after the fight, and she'd kicked the guy, whose name I don't remember, out the front door onto his ass and 86'd him for the week.
Since I was a paying tenant, she didn't kick me out. But after closing time, she come to the back room and had left my backside bruised and smarting for days after. The following morning she'd brought me back in there to inspect the damage and gave me some arnica oil that was supposed to help the welts ease up a bit.
"Well, I'm new!" I'd replied defensively, tucking my shirt into my jeans.
"You've been here five months," Cole had said, folding her arms and giving me a stern look, and people see you reading your books over a beer, and that's endearing, sometimes you hustle them at pool, which they find annoying or hilarious, depending on who they bet on. But you don't dance, you don't do karaoke, you don't work locally, and you don't hang out with anyone."
"I hang out with you." I'd pouted, jamming my hands into my pockets.
Cole shook her head. "After closing, when no one else is around, sure." She reached out and pressed two fingers under my chin, tipping my face up so I was meeting her eye instead of staring at my scuffed cowboy boots. "Look, Cat, this is a small town, people are going notice anyone. Particularly a pretty lady like yourself, you've got curls, curves, dimples, gorgeous green eyes, and to top it off freckles on dark skin...you stand out up here. You're not white, you're not Cheyenne or Sioux, people don't know what to make of you. Standing out is fine, but you also need to learn to fit in. All it takes is letting people know you."
"I am Cheyenne." I answered. "You know I'm Cheyenne on my dad's side, Moroccan on my mom's."
"Okay, see, I know that, but you look like your mama. If other people knew that," Cole had told me, "They'd know you a bit better and be less likely to start fights with you. Think on it. At least make some local friends. Besides me."
And I had thought on it. A friend. I'd thought. The café, aptly named, 'Round the Corner, served excellent coffee and traditional American eats, so when I'd ordered my usual that morning, black coffee and eggs bene, I'd decided to strike up conversation with the server. She was a tall Lakota woman near my own age, (mid to late 20s) whose grandmother owned the shop, and she made my gaydar ping. She was also well known and liked around the town, and an ideal candidate for a friend. Her name tag read "Kim".
"Is your name short for something?" I'd asked as she slid my plate in front of me on the booth table.
"Kimimela." She said with a grin, then she winced, "Means butterfly. Girly, I know, but I like my name."
"Were you Kimi as a kid?"
"To my gran and to any other kid who wanted a swift kick to the shins." Kim replied with a laugh that sprang out of her so readily it had me smiling.
"Your name is Cat Bashara right?" Kim asked, leaning against the table as I sipped my coffee. "Cat short for Catherine?"
I nodded as I set down my cup and began to heavily pepper my eggs.
"What kinda last name is that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"It's a pretty common Muslim name." I pitched my voice low. I wasn't ashamed of my heritage, but I was smart enough not to advertise it too openly in the States. "Many North Africans have Muslim surnames."
"I figured you were mixed, black and white, like a southerner." Kim admitted, she peered at the mostly fed customers in the café, then slid into the booth across from me. She was taller than me, less feminine, with shortish hair that had that mussed look that seemed natural but was probably styled. It was dark, but a bit sun bleached in the highlights. She was quite attractive, with cheekbones to die for, and a little androgynous, but feminine enough that she'd not likely be mistaken for a man.
"I'm mixed, but not with white." I said, then changed the subject. "What do folks do for fun around here, besides play pool at O'er the Barrel."
"Well, the Barrel is the nightlife in these parts unless someone is throwing a party," Kim explained. "But I ride, camp a little. Nothin' beats nature 'round here."
"You have horses?" I asked. "Or are you talking motorcycles?"
"I have a horse," Kim said, "My brother has a ranch so he keeps her for me. You ride?"
"I have, but I'm not great at it." I said. "Better on motorcycles actually."
"Wanna come riding with me sometime?" Kim asked looking at me, appraising. I wasn't sure what I was being appraised for, but if my goal was making friends, I seemed to be on the right track.
"Sure, that'd be great." I started to cut into my food, and Kim gave a sort of surprised laugh/grunt.
"What?" I asked, peering at her raised eyebrows as I shoved a bite into my mouth.
"You've been here since mid-winter and have yet to make any friends." She said. "I didn't expect you to say yes."
