Dyno's only friend was the alcoholic Native American, Sequoia, the kid on the fast track to nowhere. My BFF coveted and loathed Dyno just as I did. My football playing boyfriend was a brainless goon. I was Miss Squarepants, Head Bitch, holier-than-thou cheerleader who couldn't be touched. He busted his way into my life, my house, fucking everything that walked. He was just an outlaw, a horse that couldn't be tamed, a down and dirty vaquero who dreamed of being a rodeo star. Dyno Drummond had no reason for vanity as far as I could tell. I loathed him and his arrogant vanity, his smug self-assurance. That only made me hate him more, thinking about his damned volcano. Legend had it my new stepbrother was called Dynomite because, well, he spewed like a raging volcano. And being arrested for prostitution wasn't the worst part. I met him on the shittiest day of my life. He thinks he's tough enough to rejoin the circuit and become a bareback bronc champ again.
Dyno left, did a few tours as a SEAL, and came back different-decorated, mature.
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