North Oak 2- Yearling

by Ann Hunter

  Carol shrugged. "Isn't she usually up to something?"

  Brooke’s eyes widened when they came out of the tack room. Alex was already on Thorne, bareback. She smirked at them and rode toward the arena. "Hurry up slow pokes."

  "Why no tack?" Brooke asked.

  Alex placed her hand on the gelding's rump to balance herself as she looked back at the girls. "You said I should practice more riding without stirrups."

  Brooke hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Yeeeees I did."

  Alex swung her legs. "No stirrups." Her eyes glinted, and she smiled crookedly.

  When she was out of earshot, Carol leaned into Brooke. "She's up to something."

  As Brooke slid the bridle on to Approved and tightened the latches, she hoped Carol was wrong. "More like she's on to something. I think you should ride bareback today too."

  "Me?"

  Brooke gave Approved a quick brush down. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander, right? Plus it's already getting hot. No tack will be better for everyone involved. And you'll learn to make better contact with your mount."

  Brooke noticed Carol tense. "You can thank Alex later."

  They led Approved to the arena where Alex was already trotting. Brooke pulled the mounting block over for Carol. "Up you go."

  Carol scrambled on, rather awkwardly, then brushed her hair out of her face. She steered Approved to the wall and got comfortable walking him.

  Brooke walked backwards to the center of the arena. "I want you both to concentrate on the way your horse feels beneath you. If you sit right, you'll feel a solid contact with him. Relax your hips and roll with his natural stride. If you collect your reins right, he should offer his back to make for a better connection."

  She studied their postures and watched their hands. Alex seemed to get it right away, but Carol was less confident. Brooke let her go around a few more times, but when Carol was no more relaxed, Brooke crossed to her.

  "Everything alright?"

  Carol frowned. "I feel all wibbly wobbly."

  "Deep breath. Try to relax. You'll get it."

  Alex cantered by with a devious chuckle. Brooke grabbed Approved's reins quickly when he danced aside, eager to join his stablemate.

  Carol shook her head. "I don't know if I can do this."

  "Of course you can. If Alex can, you can. Keep your eyes where you want to go. Okay?"

  Carol regathered the reins and looked up. "Brooke, where's Alex?"

  Brooke turned to find an empty arena. Fearing the horse had bolted, she ran to the door and peered out. Alex was off down between the paddocks with no hope of coming back.

  Brooke took a deep, unsteady breath. "Crap."

  She returned to Carol. "I could have you get off, and go after her myself, or you could go chase her. I think she'll listen to you better though. Things between us are still sorta… patchy."

  Carol rolled her head back with a groan. "Alex…"

  Months of lessons had paid off. Thorne was fast.

  Alex remembered the first time she had watched racers on the track. It had looked so easy then. Just climb on the back of a fast horse and run away from your problems.

  Although she had her doubts when she first started riding, she couldn't help feel it coming more naturally each time she mounted up.

  Which meant she had been right that misty morning when she had first seen a racehorse. Forever free on the back of a horse.

  It felt good to be right.

  She dropped the reins, spread her arms wide, and tipped her face to the sun, untethered. This is what flying must feel like.

  Alex cantered with a grin on her face. Free.

  She steered the dark bay toward the high pasture. The longer the rode, the more she felt like her riding was finally clicking.

  Feeling this way had to be the best thing in the world. Maybe even better than marshmallows. The way a horse gave her courage, gave her freedom… she'd never felt this way before.

  It was brilliant.

  They slowed as they neared the grove, ducking beneath a branch. She let Thorne have his head and he ambled right to the stream Laura mentioned.

  Alex slid from his back and patted his shoulder. "Drink up, buddy."

  She folded her legs beneath her and sat on a soft patch of ground, surrounded by the bluebells. Before she could even start thinking, the snap of a twig behind her made her whip around.

  Carol sat haggardly, wind-blown and cheeks flushed, on Approved who dropped his head to browse and graze. "Do you come here often?"

  "Is that the first thing you say to someone trying to think?"

  Carol slid from Approved's back. He wandered to the stream beside his stablemate.

  "Sorry I didn't realize."

  She sat beside Alex, watching the water flow down the hillside. "It's beautiful here."

  "Did you not hear that I came here to think?" Alex stared at her. Was Carol seriously going to stay here?

  Carol shook her head, her white feather fluttering in the breeze.

  Alex ripped a couple of green stems out of the earth. "Don't people usually think alone?"

  Carol shrugged. She pressed her palms behind her and leaned back to soak in some sun cutting through the canopy.

  Approved and his buddy groomed each other peacefully.

  "So you're staying." Alex glared at her.

  Carol nodded. "I'll be quiet. Sometimes saying nothing says everything."

  Alex squinted at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Carol simply smiled. Alex rolled her eyes.

  "For what it's worth," Carol hummed, "I'm thinking too."

  Alex let out a long breath. Couldn’t the girl take a hint?

  Her eyes wandered to the horses, then to the trees, then back to Carol who sat placidly like some sort of Ghandi, cross-legged and hands doing that yoga thing people did.

  That thing. The thing Carol was doing - it drove Alex nuts. Sunlight glinted off the water as it sang its bubbly song. What was Carol thinking?

  Alex wondered if she should ask, then brushed it off. She realized she was staring at her. Stop it, Al. Just stop it.

  She couldn’t take it anymore and huffed. Shiz.

  "What are you thinking about?" Alex blurted.

  Carol’s mouth curled at the corner like she had won some sort of game. "Triangles."

  Y’gotta be kidding me. Alex stared at her momentarily. Carol’s smirk grew. She was probably crazy enough to mean it. Alex drew her knees to her chest, grunting, "Of course you are."

  Carol was weird. After a few more minutes of silence, Alex rolled her eyes and dropped her hands like the gravity of it all was too much. "Why triangles?"

  Carol's eyes remained closed and she just kept smiling.

  Alex’s voice gradually grew louder. "You could think just about anything here; what's in the water, why is the sky blue, what's that crawling on the rock over there?"

  Carol peeked. There wasn't really anything on the rock, but Alex had to make a point.

  "Of all things, why triangles?"

  Carol resumed her zen-like mediation. "How big do you think Promenade's stride is?"

  “What the— We were just talking about triangles!”

  “Mmm-hmm. How big do you think his stride is?”

  Alex crossed her arms. "How should I know?" She sat up straight. “What— Why?”

  "We're going to find out. I've been thinking about triangles."

  Alex flopped back into the bluebells groaning. "But why?"

  "I have a feeling about stride efficiency and stride angle. Brooke said Secretariat had a twenty-five foot stride, which, if I calculated it right, meant that the apex of his triangle was about one hundred and ten degrees."

  "You're not making sense. Stride. Triangles. Why would I care about an ape's ex?"

  "I'm making perfect sense. Think of Promenade. Think of the way he reaches when he gallops. If his front leg is stretched forward at the same time as his opposite back leg, you can connect them with an imaginar
y line. Then pitch those lines to a point where the top meets the rider, and you form a triangle."

  "So what?"

  "So if you increase the stride, you cover more ground faster, but it has to be done efficiently. I bet if we help Brooke find Promenade's stride angle, we could make him faster."

  "But he's already fast. Why would we want to make him faster? Won't he get hurt?"

  Carol opened her eyes, the sunlight catching in them. "So you do care about the dumb horse."

  "Who said anything about that?"

  "You did.” She pointed at Alex. “Just now. No take backs."

  Alex bit her lip so she wouldn't stick her foot further in her mouth.

  "Would you like some water to wash down that foot?" Carol motioned to the stream. "We have plenty here."

  "Why does any of it matter?" Alex asked.

  Carol rotated her Ghandi-sit so she faced her. "I'm thinking if you increase the stride angle of a horse, the top of that triangle I was talking about, you increase its stride overall.” She started talking faster, growing with excitement. “So something as small as a ten percent increase can mean Promenade will cover twenty percent more ground with each stride. He would devour the track. Tell me you don't want to see that."

  "I don't want to see that," Alex said flatly.

  Carol grinned, shoving Alex playfully. "Liar. It would be so freaking cool."

  "Do you always think in math?” Alex asked, rubbing her arm. “Like, is that your first language?”

  Carol tilted her head with a cocked eyebrow, and not with the most appreciative of looks.

  Alex sighed. “I hate when you’re right.

  Carol nudged Alex’s knee with her own. "Hey. I really like being right."

  A breeze rustled the leaves, sending the perfume of bluebells racing. Alex’s eyes darted around, trying to avoid looking at Carol. She got up abruptly. "I have to go watch A League of their Own."

  Carol looked at her, confused. "Why?"

  Alex scratched the back of her head, squinting. "Uh…Hillary says if I watch it, I'll have a good cry and feel better about myself.”

  “I think you’re making this up.”

  Alex shifted side to side. “No, I’m serious. I'm still waiting for this magical crying to happen."

  Carol's brow knit. "But there's no crying in baseball."

  Alex’s eyes widened. "That's what I said!" she crowed. She couldn’t help look at her now. Just don’t stare. Don’t stare, Al.

  Carol broke their gaze, and Alex wondered if she had weirded her out. She tucked her lip in dismay, but felt relieved when Carol started laughing. They both crumpled back into the blanket of bluebells.

  "You know what?" Alex said after a long breath. "You're weird."

  Carol's smile was soft. "I like you too, Alex."

  Alex folded her arms behind her head. Not saying anything, just content in someone else's company for the first time in, well, forever, was nice.

  Carol held one of the flowers near her chest, plucking the petals. There was something about the breeze in the trees, the happy flow of water, sunlight dappling the grove…

  "I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,” she murmured. “Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows…" She sighed, a gentle smile written on her. "Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, with sweet musk-roses and with eglantine."

  Alex focused on the canopy above, listening to the birds and the trickle of the stream. "You make that up?"

  "It's from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Shakespeare wrote it in the fifteen nineties."

  Alex turned her head to look at her. "It's pretty."

  Carol looked back at her, her eyes lighting up. "We can read it together if you like."

  Alex held her breath, staring. Carol with her earth-tone hair and those crazy violet eyes aglow with hope, framed by an endless lake of bluebells. She almost blended in. Alex looked back up at the piece of blue sky, blushing. "Okay."

  STRONG ENOUGH

  Alex squinted at the jumbled black letters on the page, trying to will them into words. "And… t-toe…"

  "Though," Carol offered.

  Alex flushed. "Right. I… I knew that." She tried again. "And though she be but lit-le?"

  "Little."

  "Urgh."

  Carol caught her eye. "Hey. You're doing great. You got this."

  "Shakespeare makes my head hurt." Alex grimaced.

  "It means it's growing."

  Alex sighed. "And though she be but little, she is…" The letters kept moving around. Stupid letters. Alex jabbed the word, secretly hoping they'd stay in place. "Fee… fie… fire. Fire-chay?"

  Carol giggled.

  Alex popped her knuckles into Carol's shoulder. "Shut up."

  "Sorry," Carol laughed.

  "Hashtag sorry not sorry," Alex muttered.

  “You learn that one on your own?”

  Alex glared at her.

  "Here, I'll help." Carol placed her finger beneath the line. "This verse is totally you. And though she be but little, she is f—"

  Alex sat up tall and proudly blurted an expletive. Carol looked at her incredulously. "I can't believe you just dropped the f-bomb."

  "Like a boss." Alex grinned.

  Carol shook her head. "Remind me to work on that with you."

  “What?” Alex smiled innocently. “I have Tourist Disease.” She leaned her head against her hand. "So you gonna read that sentence for me?"

  Carol rolled her eyes. "Not anymore, potty mouth."

  "So if it's about me, what's that f-word?"

  "Fierce, goofball."

  Alex moved her eyes slowly from Carol's down to the page with a half smile. "And though she be but little, she is fierce."

  She dwelled on it. A feeling crept into her that made her feel suddenly awkward. Somewhere between a realization and dread. Carol's opinion of her.

  Alex tried to lean away conspicuously.

  "Guess what." Carol beamed. "If you can read Shakespeare, you can read anything." She reached to clap Alex on the back, not noticing the way Alex cringed. "You're reading!"

  Carol turned the page, teasing. "And they said it couldn't be done."

  "You think I'm fierce?" Alex asked softly.

  "Well, yeah. After what you've been through, and you're here to tell the tale. Pardon my French, but you're a badass."

  Alex picked at some skin poking up beside her fingernail.

  "I sometimes envy you, Alex. You have this beautiful life, and you're so strong."

  Alex flexed her bicep, jokingly.

  "Not like that." Carol placed a hand over her own heart. "Here."

  Alex re-read the line before her. I'm fierce.

  "You're little, and fierce, and you'll conquer anything in your path." Carol nodded. "Like Napoleon."

  "I don't know if I'm ready for that test they want me to take next month to get into school."

  "How many of life's tests have you already shown who’s boss? Don't sweat it. We'll make sure you're ready."

  Alex chewed on her fingernail. "I kinda feel like it's all one big time bomb. School, the sale… It's going to blow up in my face."

  Carol tried to scooch closer, but Alex moved her chair away. "I can't say if it is or not," Carol said. "All we can do is get ready."

  Alex sat in Promenade's stall that evening, trying to avoid having grain dribbled on her head. She brushed off some of the bits and reached to scratch the colt's chest.

  "I don't know what to think anymore, boy. I'm such a mess inside. There's this hole in my heart now that Ashley is gone. I don't… I don't know how to fill it. And when I close my eyes, I see Carol. And I don't know how to feel. I'm afraid to really like her. Afraid if I let her in, I'll be shutting Ashley out. Y'know?"

  Promenade's heart beat steadily beneath Alex's fingers. Something about the soft rustle of hay and the steady munch of oats, his breathing, an occasional whicker from a stablemate, gave Alex some odd sense of peace. "I'll be betraying Ash."

  The colt stam
ped his hind hoof and swished his tail, seemingly oblivious to Alex.

  "I'm afraid, Pro. I'm afraid I already feel that way about her. If I let her in, that will be the end of it. I'll want to protect her, be there for her, the way everyone else is trying to be for me."

  Promenade paused from chewing and looked at her.

  She gave him a wry smile. "Well, except you. You just wonder when your next servant will arrive."

  He snorted and nibbled her hair, getting it all sticky and damp. Alex pushed his head away. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

  Promenade dove back into his bucket, nonchalantly stepping closer to Alex. She scratched his shoulder, and couldn't help wonder if he put up a front like everyone said she did.

  "I don't know how to act around Carol anymore. She's not just some marshmallow with a brain. I can't look at her the same way, because I don't see her the way I did the day she called me Princess Charming.”

  She drew her knees to her chest. “I wonder if the way I look at her makes her feel the same way I do when she looks back at me. Is that what friends feel for each other? I've only ever really had Ashley."

  Promenade polished off the contents of his bucket with a loud clunk of plastic against wood. He flicked his tail and turned his back side to Alex.

  "I'm glad you see my point," she said. "If I let her in, I shut Ashley out. I don't wanna lose Ash." Alex rose and slipped her hand beneath the dark colt's bright mane. She stepped closer to him, pressing her cheek against his warm body. The sweet smell of him, so warm against her, like velvet on a canvas. "I don't want to lose Carol either."

  She gazed into Promenade's sea-like brown eyes. "She thinks I'm strong, but maybe I'm not as strong as she thinks."

  “Why wouldn’t you be strong enough?” Brooke asked.

  Alex sucked in a breath, her eyes darting to the other girl outside the stall. “How long have you been there?”

  “Oh…” Brooke hung her thumbs through her front belt loops. “Long enough to… Okay, I heard most of it.”

  Alex cringed and buried her face in Promenade’s mane. Damn.

  Brooke took a deep breath. “So, let me get this straight. Once upon a time, there was a girl named— ”

  “Don’t.”