The Boy Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series)

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The Boy Who Loves Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center Series) Page 9

by Diana Vincent


  “It’s okay with your parents?”

  “Of course. My parents know all about it and we really don’t have a choice because my dad isn’t coming to pick us up.”

  “Come on, you guys,” Justin called from inside the limo. Crystal and Gloria with her date had already seated themselves inside.

  You do have a choice; you could call your dad. Sierra kept the thought to herself, again feeling so much younger than everyone else and foolish over her indecision. Maybe she was too much of a prude, and most likely her mother wouldn’t mind at all. “All right,” she agreed and allowed Luke to help her into the vacant seat.

  Once inside, Sierra couldn’t help but admire and enjoy the dreamlike luxury of the limo’s interior with its cream-colored, buttery-soft leather seats. Each seat had its own controls for temperature, lighting, and seat position, as well as a computer screen. As she sank into her seat, the seatbelt clicked into place automatically. She joined the others playing with the controls and exclaiming how it was the ‘ultimate in coolness’.

  As the limo pulled up in front of the gym, Sierra noted the awed and envious expressions on other kids’ faces; as if they were celebrities. Crystal and Justin were immediately whisked away to join the royal court. Kids crowded around Sierra and Luke, asking questions and making jokes as they moved with them into the decorated gym.

  Luke answered questions and bantered back and forth with the crowd, most of them his friends. He grabbed Sierra’s hand to keep her close for she noticed it was not apparent to the others that she was with Luke. But as he pulled her along with him through the gym, easily mingling with others, Sierra found all she had to do was smile and laugh at the jokes, and at last her tense nervousness ebbed away. She again became bored hearing the same congratulations and football comments and inane jokes. She amused herself by noting the curious looks that were cast her way, especially from other girls. This was more like hanging out with Luke last night, especially with Crystal and Justin gone.

  “Sierra, that dress is absolutely adorable!”

  Sierra turned as Katrina waved at her from behind. Her expression was warm and appreciative and Sierra believed it was the first compliment of her dress that was sincere. She waved back and called out, “You look spectacular!” Katrina, like Allison, had her own style, and both she and her date were dressed in a Victorian fashion that not many others could have pulled off. But Katrina had managed it.

  The hired band appeared on the stage, picked up their instruments, and began to make last minute adjustments to the sound system.

  “Let’s get our picture taken before we get all sweaty,” Luke suggested, and guided Sierra to a line of kids waiting to be photographed beneath the homecoming arbor.

  “Sierra,” Allison called from two places ahead in the line. “You look great!”

  It was the second sincere compliment that evening, and Sierra was surprised how it helped her feel less conspicuous. “Thanks, you look fantastic,” she returned the compliment. Allison wore a silver sheath dress with an open back. Other than a pair of silver earrings, her only accessory was her mum. Her simple style somehow seemed far more elegant and sophisticated than all the frilly, glittery, and over accessorized outfits of the other girls.

  Booming music filled the air as the band opened with an attention-getting rift and played a processional tune in rock style as the royal court entered. The crowd cheered as the homecoming king and queen were presented, followed by the princes and princesses. The band bridged into a waltz, and the king and queen stepped onto the floor and danced solo for the first round of the song; then were joined in succession by the prince and princess of each class. When the last royal couple, Crystal and Justin, had joined in and danced a few measures, the band switched to a popular rock song, the signal that the floor was now open for everyone.

  “Want to dance?” Luke asked, and without waiting for an answer, pulled Sierra with him to join other couples moving onto the dance floor.

  Dancing, Sierra began to feel as if she were at last having fun. The knit fabric of her dress was much more suitable for fast dancing than the formal styles of her classmates, and she liked how it rippled around her as she moved. Luke danced in a loose, uninhibited style and she laughed at his antics, sometimes improvising her own steps to compliment him. The band slipped in a slow song for every two or three fast numbers. Luke pulled her against him for the slow dances, holding her around her back and waist and since he didn’t take her hand, she had no choice but to put her arms around his shoulders. But she liked being held in his arms as he moved with slow steps to the music. They danced every dance of the first set.

  “You’re so cute when you dance,” Luke said, leading her toward the tables of refreshments.

  Sierra, already flushed from dancing, at least didn’t appear to blush. “You are too.”

  “How’s it going, dude?” Justin came toward them, carrying two plastic cups of punch.

  “Great band,” Luke answered.

  “Here, you two look like you need these more than me right now.” He handed over the drinks which they gratefully accepted. Justin winked at Luke before turning away.

  “Mmm…good,” Sierra commented after thirstily gulping her punch in just a few swallows.

  “It is good,” Luke agreed as he downed his own cup. “Hey, Tom!” He greeted one of his teammates waving at him from a group of football players. He grabbed Sierra’s hand and pulled her along to join the group.

  As they were pushing their way through the crowd, Sierra felt a sudden heat from her stomach rush directly to her head and spread throughout her body. She became lightheaded, her vision blurred, and the room began to sway ever so slightly making her feel nauseous.

  They reached the group where Luke slapped hands with several of his teammates, and joined in the loud discussion of last night’s game; many of the same comments Sierra had being hearing all evening.

  “Luke,” Sierra whispered, squeezing his hand to get his attention.

  “Yeah?”

  “Something’s wrong. What was in that punch?”

  Luke’s eyes got big as he looked closer at her. Sierra’s face had turned a pale greenish tinge. “Sierra, what’s the matter?”

  “I don’t feel well. What was in that punch?” she repeated.

  “Oh no,” Luke said in a worried tone. Some of his friends were snickering and elbowing each other as they noticed Sierra’s appearance. “Come on.” He took her by her upper arm and guided her toward the side door of the gym.

  It seemed to take forever to push through the crowd of kids. Sierra felt unbearably hot, stumbled frequently as Luke pulled her along, and afraid she was either going to throw up or pass out.

  At last they reached the door that led to a cement patio outside. “Too hot in here.” Luke smiled at the parent chaperon monitoring the door.

  “Don’t leave the patio,” the parent answered.

  “Right,” Luke agreed.

  They stepped out into the night, the coolness bringing welcome relief and Sierra gratefully gulped in the fresh air, swallowing hard to keep the bubbling contents of her stomach down. Luke led her to a corner of the patio, away from the couples who had also come outside to cool off.

  “I can’t believe that Justin,” Luke said angrily. “He never said anything to me.”

  Sierra wanted to believe that Luke was not part of spiking the punch. “What did he put in the drink?” Her tongue felt thick and she slurred her words.

  “I don’t know…probably vodka; it’s easier to hide the taste.”

  “Did he put some in your drink too?”

  “I think so. I feel a little buzz. But it hasn’t affected me like it seems to have hit you.”

  “I’m drunk!” Sierra moaned.

  “Sierra, I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” Luke said again.

  “Can you call your dad? I want to go home.” She fought back tears as well as nausea.

  “Sure,” he answered hesitantly. “But you’ll be okay after
a little while. You couldn’t have drunk that much. You’re just not used to it.”

  “Please, I want to go home,” Sierra pleaded.

  “Sierra, listen.” Holding her hand in one of his, he reached up with the other to smooth her hair away from her face and gently stroked her neck, gazing into her eyes. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m going to kill Justin. But if I call my dad now he’ll know you’re drunk and I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  Sierra gazed back into his eyes in disbelief. “What?” In her opinion, Justin needed to get in trouble.

  “Let’s just walk around in the fresh air. Do you think you could throw up? You’ll feel better if you do.”

  “You won’t call your dad?”

  “I will if you really want me to. But Sierra, think about what this will mean. Spiking someone’s punch is a serious offense in the eyes of the school. Justin could get kicked off the team or even suspended. Besides, you were having a good time, weren’t you, before this? Believe me, within an hour or so you’ll be fine.”

  Disappointment settled into her stomach along with her nausea. How could Luke cover for Justin? It was bad enough to spike the punch at school, but to give it to someone without that person having a clue was especially low. Her feelings were in a whirl of confusion, and the alcohol was not helping her judgment.

  “Hey, you’ve never had a drink before, have you?”

  “No,” she answered bitterly.

  “I remember the first time I had a drink. I kind of made a fool of myself,” he said, laughing at a memory.

  “You drink?” Sierra asked incredulously.

  “No, not really. Actually, it was at a party and kind of like what happened to you tonight. Someone spiked the punch and I didn’t know.”

  “Luke, how can you be friends with kids who would do something like that?”

  “It’s all in fun, Sierra. Don’t be such a prude.”

  For the second time that night she was called a prude, as if that were a bad thing. She wondered if she would outgrow her prudishness; if that was part of maturation.

  “Come on, let’s walk around and if you don’t feel better after ten minutes I’ll call my dad,” he offered. “Hey.” She had ducked her head away and with his fingers he gently tilted her chin to meet his eyes again. “I at least want to dance one more slow dance with you.”

  Sierra nodded, tired of the conversation and feeling despondent. She allowed Luke to take her arm and they began to stroll slowly around the edge of the patio. She actually did feel better, at least physically, by the time they heard the band starting up.

  They returned to the dance floor, but the evening was irreparably ruined for Sierra. She avoided eye contact with Luke, and all she could manage was a weak smile when he asked if she was okay. Allison on catching sight of her, pulled her away to the girls’ room to ask what was wrong.

  “I’ll tell you later,” she said for she did not want to explain in the crowded bathroom where anyone could hear.

  “Call me tomorrow,” Allison insisted.

  At last the dance came to an end and Sierra sat with Luke in the back seat of his parents’ car. Luke held her hand, rubbing his thumb on the inside of her palm, while he answered his mother’s questions about the evening. When they arrived at her cottage, Luke again jumped out to open her car door, and walked her to the front door.

  “Thanks for being such a good sport,” he said, taking both her hands as they stood on her doorstep. “I had a really good time.”

  “Thanks,” Sierra replied but did not lie and say she had a good time as well.

  Luke leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. “You are so sweet,” he whispered.

  “Good night,” Sierra replied awkwardly, and quickly opened her front door and went inside, closing and locking it behind her. Moments later, she heard the car back away.

  My first kiss. Sierra felt nothing at all, except very disappointed.

  *****

  10 Corazón

  A canter is a cure for every evil. – Benjamin Disraeli

  *****

  Storm barked once, soft and low, waking River. Still lying curled on his bed, he squinted in the light from the lamp and shivered, but this time truly from cold for he had not bothered with covers. The back of his head throbbed and his throat felt raw.

  “River,” a girl’s voice hissed in a whisper from behind the door. He could hear the dull thumping of music with a loud bass coming from the house.

  “Who is it?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Laila; can I come in?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. He blinked at her as she stepped inside. Although she wore a different outfit, her gothic appearance was almost identical to the other night. “What do you want?” he asked, confused as to what she was doing here. He felt dazed from just waking up and maybe from the blow to his head.

  “Are you okay? I heard about the fight.”

  He thought for a minute. “I think so.”

  Since he hadn’t told her to leave, Laila came over to sit down on the edge of his mattress, looking at him intently. “Let me see,” she said, frowning. Very gently she touched the side of his head to turn it so she could see the wound at the back. She made a soft noise of exclamation as she discovered a large lump and blood clotted in his hair. “It’s not that bad,” she assured him as she pushed hair aside to inspect the source of blood. “It’s just a scalp wound; they bleed a lot but I don’t think you need stitches or anything. Is there any clean water in here?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  River lay in a daze, listening to her steps recede down the wooden steps, and a few minutes later, coming back up, the pulsing of the bass in rhythm with her steps. She came back over to him with a bottle of water, several washcloths, and a container of antiseptic hand gel.

  “This is going to sting, but try to hold still,” she instructed as she sat down by his side and turned his head away. Gently she dabbed at his wound with wet washcloths, soaking away the crusted blood and picking out glass splinters. “You okay?” she asked.

  “It’s just numb,” he answered truthfully.

  When she had cleaned away all the blood, she used the hand gel as a final cleanser. “There, I think you’re going to live.”

  “How did you find out...?”

  “Steve got the story from your aunt. Your dad is passed out half way up the stairs. There’s a lot of blood on the kitchen floor where you must have fallen, but nobody seemed worried about you so I thought maybe I should check to see if you were alive.”

  “Thanks,” he said softly. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” She had inspected his head and cleaned his wound like an expert.

  “Many times…in my family, my brother got beat up; I got molested.” She made her statement matter-of-fact, as if this were the norm in most households.

  He pushed himself up on his elbow to look at her. “Even now?”

  She smirked and with a short laugh said, “No, now I enjoy the benefits of a foster home.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Which is worse?” he asked.

  “Believe it or not, I’d rather be back with my mother. My current foster parents don’t touch me but there are other ways to beat a person; like making them feel like garbage.”

  “You’re not garbage,” he stated, looking intently at her thin, pale face with the thick make-up and many piercings, and thinking she looked soft and nice underneath it all.

  “Thanks.” She ducked her head away, embarrassed and then got up to bring back a saran-wrapped sandwich. Apparently she had gone to fetch more than just first-aid supplies. “Here, you must be hungry.”

  River sat up slowly so as not to increase his dizziness. He gratefully accepted the food and ate it hungrily. “What’s Steve doing?” he asked between bites.

  “He’s already so loaded he doesn’t even know I left the party. It’s kind of pathetic; your father passed out on the stairs and your cousin passed out on the couch wi
th everyone just stepping around them, trying to get equally loaded.”

  “Didn’t you come to get high?”

  “I only smoke enough to mellow my mood. Believe it or not, I don’t like other drugs. I came here with Steve because I need a place to crash for the weekend. My foster parents think I’m at a church youth group retreat. Talk about punishment.”

  “Oh.” River suddenly realized he did not want her to leave. “You can stay here if you want.”

  “Oh yeah, gay cousin?” she teased.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why would I want to stay here?”

  “I don’t know…because you don’t have anywhere else to go?”

  “There’s always somewhere else to go.” She sat down next to him on the mattress and unzipped her boots, kicking them off. Then with her jade green eyes holding his own captive, she lay down and reached up to touch his cheek. “Give me a reason to stay,” she whispered.

  *****

  River woke from long habit a little after six a.m.; time to get up for work. In the darkness, he watched the shadowy outline of the girl sleeping next to him for a few minutes before he whispered, “Laila.” She didn’t stir. “Laila,” he repeated a little louder and stroked her shoulder lightly.

  “Umm,” she replied.

  “I have to go to work.”

  “Umkay,” she muttered.

  “Will I see you later?”

  In answer, she reached out for him and pulled him back down on top of her.

  A little while later, River rolled out of bed and dressed. The back of his head ached with a dull ache, and he had a wave of dizziness when he first sat up. Concussion, he thought. Well, he had been hit in the head before and knew what a concussion felt like. He’d be okay in a few days. For now, the dizziness had subsided after a few moments upright, and his headache was tolerable. He knelt and kissed Laila on her exposed cheek; she had already curled up on her side falling back to sleep. Then with Storm at his heels, he left for the stable.

 

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