Prove Me Wrong.

'Kieran's POV'

Without saying much of anything my parents figured out that something was wrong between Jamie and I. Well, maybe the giveaway was that he wasn't at dinner with me last night, and that he didn’t have an away game. Knowing me well enough after 25 years and the way I work with relationships my parents didn’t pry. My mom simply asked if I was okay and I told her no, I wasn't "okay" but that there was an arrangement and I didn’t want to talk about it. And that was that, we didn’t say his name again, we didn’t talk about hockey, and we sure as hell didn’t talk about veterinary medicine. I was on the verge of a full blown meltdown and my dad could sense it, so he did what he knew would fix me as it always had as a kid.

My dad asked me to meet him at the gun range today, a popular spot in the south for relaxation. Even though my dad is a Texas transplant he took right to the gun loving mindset. So between he and my Texas bred mother and grandparents my brother and I were raised to never fear a gun. But to know how to use them for both safety and for fun.

Today's outing would be all about fun, and blowing off the steam that was building inside me, one week down out of the agreement and I was struggling to stay afloat. I dressed in a typical southern girl outfit, jeans, boots, a flannel shirt throwing an A&M ball cap over my hair, shooting skeet doesn't require much of a dress code. Grabbing my ray bans and my keys I headed out the door, running smack into Tyler. Thankfully he was alone, I had managed to avoid seeing Jamie for the entire first week.

"Easy there Tex," Tyler said laughing as held onto my shoulders firmly, keeping me up right after I had ran into his chest. He pointed down at my boots, "Where are you going? Boot scootin' boogie?" I straightened myself from Tyler's grasp, and scoffed at his joke, "Funny, welcome to the South Ty. I'm going to the gun range with my dad, I need to blow off some steam." His eyes widened, "Please be careful Kier," I smiled at my sweetheart of a best friend, "I've been shootin' since I was 10 Ty, I’ll be fine. Are you making me dinner later?" He reluctantly agreed and I left him in the hallway, ready to hear the sweet sound of shots being fired around me.

Parking my Jeep next to my dad's Ford truck I climbed out, grabbing my ID and ear plugs. Inside I met up with my dad, giving him a hug. As we checked in he handed me the case to the old rifle I had been shooting since I was 14. The older man behind the counter recognized my dad as he frequented the shop with his friends, "This your little girl Jack?" he asked and my dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders, "Sure is Keith, though she's not so little anymore, going to be a doctor here soon." I blushed and shook the man's hand. Soon enough we were outside, the sun shining down on a perfect March afternoon just my dad and I with a clay machine and our guns.

Sliding the gold sunglasses onto my nose, I adjusted the ratty baseball hat on my head and put the earplugs into my ears. Taking my stance and sliding the rifle out of safety mode I signaled to my dad that I was ready. "Pull," I yelled and the orange clay disc went flying through the air, lining up I took my shot and the disc exploded the sound circling throughout the air. I breathed out, man that felt good. After shooting my whole box of clay targets I turned back to my dad, a grin plastered across his face, "My girls still got it." Putting the safety back on the gun, I sat down next to my father.

"Thanks for this daddy," He smiled and squeezed my kneecap, "25 years Kiery I can tell when you need your old man, I'll always be here for you." They say the only man a woman ever needs her dad, and I was so thankful that I had one who would stand by me no matter what. Taking a short break I watched as my dad and a few of the other older guys shot, this was another place that made me happy. Between the volleyball court and the range, I always had a place to relax.

When the clay pigeons were all gone we moved over to the paper targets pinned to hay bales out in a field. My dad and I went at the same time blowing through round after round, a smile on my face the whole time. A pile of empty shells scattered at my feet and with a sore shoulder and ringing ears I decided to call it a day. Holding up my paper target I had my dad take a picture, my hat on backwards and cheesy grin on my face. I had definitely killed the target, and boy was I proud of it. I sent the picture to Tyler and posted it to Twitter with the caption, "Don’t mess with Texas. #bangbang ;)" Leaving the range I felt alive, and ready to take on week #2.

Notes

well that's one way to clear your mind Kieran :) who misses Jamie!? xoxo -Ally

Texas Girl