by Ann Hunter
“Sounds like I’m only in your way.”
“I just want life to go back to the way it was before you came through like some wrecking ball of boy hotness that Brooke thinks you are.”
“What is it you really want?”
“What do you mean?”
“If you had the power to change everything that’s going on, what would you change?”
His question staggered Alex. She stood there in the shadows, fingers totally still against the foal, feeling completely blindsided.
“I’d change the way Brooke treats me every time you’re around. Like I’m the devil or something. Like I’m going to steal you away when I can’t even figure out where I belong in the lives of everyone else. When my own family can’t give me the time of day. I don’t have time to care. I don’t care.”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t care.”
“I am,” she lied.
“Not there,” Dejado murmured, pointing in front of himself. “Here.”
Alex chewed her lip. A well of insecurity rising tide-like in her, sensing another bullet was headed her way. The ones he sent flying whenever he was around. Her shoulders tensed as she crossed the stall, slid out from behind the door, and stood before him. She glared into his chocolate eyes like he didn’t completely freak her out. “I’m making eye contact with you, now, are you happy?”
He stared back, the corner of his mouth trembling in an unsure way. “No, I’m not.”
“Why?” Alex clenched her fists, trying to assure herself she’d walk away from this with her pride, with her secrets still intact.
She felt herself shrinking inside as his eyes searched hers; his squinting raising the alarm on her neck and arm hairs. What could he possibly want from her? What more did he want to know? “Damn it, hot shot, get lost already.”
He remained silent for a moment, his face riddled with what? Dissatisfaction? Alex squinted back at him, willing him to leave her alone.
“Fine. I’m leaving,” he said, not taking more than a step back.
“You’re still here,” Alex shouted.
He jumped another step back, but there was still that awkward tremble at the corner of his mouth. “I’m really leaving now.”
Alex crossed her arms. “Good!”
The tremble broke on his face into a rueful grin. “Your eyes are amazing.”
Alex squared her shoulders, teeth clenched. “Go. Away.”
He bowed in that ridiculous way of his; grin plastered, eyes stuck on hers.
“Hold still, Mags,” Alex grunted as she tightened the girth. The filly stamped her hoof and swung her hind toward Alex, knocking her back a step.
Alex growled in frustration. Brooke had taken off the second she saw Dejado, leaving Alex to fend for herself. Morning Glory flattened her ears and tried to nip her, acting unusually rank for her normal self.
Alex took a deep breath to steady herself. She leveled her gaze on the filly, locking eyes with her. “I get it. She’s ignoring you and it’s getting on your nerves. That makes two of us, lady.”
She reapproached Morning Glory, laying a hand on her shoulder, keeping her voice low. “Let’s just try to get through this, okay? Make the best of it.”
The filly threw her head defiantly, swishing her tail in agitation. Alex finished cinching the girth, mumbling under her breath how she hoped turning sixteen someday wouldn’t make her go abandoning her friends for boys.
Moving to Morning Glory’s head, she looked her in the eye again to level with her as she started moving the bridle from her shoulder toward the filly’s head. “Alright, missy, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Help me out here.”
Morning Glory danced away, but didn’t get too far in the crossties she was bound in. Alex huffed, dug into her pocket, and produced a peppermint to bribe the filly into taking the bit. She managed to get the job done and ease the bridle over the filly’s ears, securing it while Morning Glory munched on the peppermint and bit.
Alex unclipped the crossties and lead the filly toward Clearbrooke’s track where Brooke was leaning against the rail, making googlie eyes at Mister Jockey McDreamy. Alex wondered if Brooke would even notice her once she got there.
She stood beside Brooke and cleared her throat unpologetically, interrupting their conversation. Morning Glory dragged the reins through Alex’s fingers to rub her muzzle on her leg. “I need a leg up,” Alex said.
Brooke’s face was straight when she looked at her. “Sorry.”
She crossed to them and helped Alex bounce into the saddle.
Alex gathered the reins, pulling Morning Glory’s head up. She adjusted her feet in the stirrups and steered toward the track. Dejado took a step or two on his gray horse, but Alex glared at him to keep back.
“Once around at a jog,” Brooke called. “I think I’ve found a race for her next week.”
With her back facing Brooke, Alex gave her a thumbs up, though she wished it were a different finger. She was glad Brooke couldn’t see her face right now.
She took another deep breath, not wanting Morning Glory to pick up on her mood and get more ornery than she already was.
Once around. At a jog. She could handle that.
Alex rose in the stirrups, balancing over the filly’s shoulders. She clucked her tongue and Morning Glory moved forward at a tense trot. She shook her head, chomping at the bit and pulling the reins. Alex focused on breathing steadily and keeping her own agitation to herself.
“Chillax,” she muttered, not sure if it was more to herself or Mags.
The filly shook her mane again, but bent her head more obediently, seeming to settle down for the work. Some of the tension eased out of Alex too and Morning Glory’s stride became less choppy. But at the half mile pole, Morning Glory suddenly took the bit between her teeth and bolted.
Alex fell back in the saddle, bounced twice, and pulled herself up again. She braced in the stirrups, hauling back on the reins with clenched teeth, cursing silently.
“Whoa,” she yelled, but Morning Glory only dug in deeper, head bent to chest willfully.
The filly threw a buck or two. Alex lost a stirrup and fell forward on Morning Glory’s neck. She wove a handful of mane between her fingers and pushed up hard. The filly dodged toward the rail, then back out toward the center of the track again. Alex leaned forward, trying to grab the stirrup and get her toe back in. She felt herself slipping as the ground raced by in a blur of afternoon sun.
Alex yelled a punctuated string of curses, trying to hang on to the horse as they rounded the bend. A shadow came racing up behind them and someone shoved her hard, righting her in the saddle. A whiz of gray settled in beside them and a hand reached for Morning Glory’s bridle.
Alex kept her focus ahead, still trying to slow the filly down. She thought she saw dark hair from the corner of her eye. He caught the filly and eased her back to a trot, even as she fought him.
Alex clenched her teeth. “I had it under control.”
Dejado nodded. “You completely did.”
“I thought you were going to ditch Brooke for Belmont.”
He glanced at her. “I don’t know if I can.”
Alex unclipped her helmet as they approached Brooke near the gap in the track. Brooke’s knuckles were white on the rail, and Alex thought for a moment she might have scared her straight or something.
“What happened out there?” Brooke shouted. “I told you to jog her.”
“She’s rank, butt head,” Alex snarled back. “She bolted. That’s not my fault.”
“How is it not your fault?”
“Maybe if you paid more attention to her, she wouldn’t have bolted.” Alex swung from Morning Glory’s back, and shoved the reins into Brooke’s hand.
“I pay attention to her,” Brooke said defensively.
“Yeah,” Alex chucked her helmet hard at her. “Sure.”
She stormed off to the barn, but she wasn’t alone. She clenched her fists as Dejado ran after her.
“I think you should leave,” Alex said.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s how she is whenever you’re around. She’s not the Brooke I know. Boys make her crazy or something.”
Dejado reached for her hand and caught her wrist, but Alex snatched it away, rubbing it like it burned. He looked at her reproachfully. “I respect friendship,” he said softly. “And I can see I’m coming in between yours. I’ll go.”
Alex stared at him as he backed away. Was he really leaving? For good?
FURLONGS TO GO
“I pay attention to you. Don’t I, girl?” Brooke asked as she let Morning Glory back into her stall.
Morning Glory snorted and turned her back to Brooke almost immediately once she was inside. She dropped her head, ears floppy.
Brooke leaned against the stall door, arms folded, wondering if Alex was right. Had she been chasing Dejado so hard that Mags was suffering? Had she lost sight of her goal to get the filly to the winner’s circle?
A few months ago, all she could see was her and Morning Glory in the winner’s circle. Then Dejado came, and… She wanted both. Couldn’t she have both?
She slid the door shut and walked away for a really uncomfortable, silent ride back home with Alex.
Alex chewed on a roll she snuck up to her room after dinner. “I don’t know how much more of her attitude I can take, Carol. She’s not herself. It’s like we’ve traded places. She’s the one with the badittude and I’m the level headed one.”
“Maybe you could do something nice for her,” Carol suggested.
Alex ripped a chunk from the roll, talking with a full mouth. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Why not ask Joe if she could bring Morning Glory home?”
“Like that would work.” Alex sat on the edge of her bed and swallowed.
“You don’t know until you try.”
“What would be the point of it?”
Carol sat beside her. “Well, if she didn’t have to worry about paying for board and stuff, maybe she’d relax a little. She’d be home with her family. I know I always feel better when I’m with mine. Think how hard it’s been for her. She’s been doing this all on her own.”
Alex blinked at her. “I don’t feel sorry for her,” she said after a long pause.
“Alex, have a heart.”
Alex jabbed a finger towards the doorway. “She’s the one who decided she wanted her own racehorse and got herself into this mess.”
“Yes, but aren’t there things in life you want? Things that you would go to any length to achieve?”
Alex bit into her roll and chewed. She didn’t answer for a long time, except for a shrug. “I dunno. I’ve always just wanted to survive. Like that was my day to day goal. Surviving. Now I have this life.”
“And what? You’ve found a safety net where you can avoid surviving and just live?”
Alex grimaced.
“I think Brooke is just trying to survive too. You need to help her. You’ve been there. What if she hasn’t? She’s always had this beautiful life at North Oak, and now she doesn’t. Not really. She’s at Clearbrook when she’s not at school. Just surviving.”
Alex looked at Carol who had no smugness about her. “Are you always right?”
Carol shrugged.
“I haven’t seen Dejado lately, have you?” Brooke asked.
Alex tucked her lip and shoved her hands in her pockets. Something very small and rat-like gnawed away inside her. The softened, worried look on Brooke’s face got to her a little.
A pot-bellied mustachioed man rolled up Clearbrook’s aisle. “Merrsal.”
Brooke turned. “Hey, Frank.”
“That fella you hang around with left this for you.” He passed her an envelope and left.
Brooke opened it and read Dejado’s elegant scrawl across a post-it note, attached to a check for Morning Glory’s boarding. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. I hope we meet again someday. Yours, Dejado
Her hands shook as she read it over twice more. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke. “Where is he?”
Brooke’s eyes slowly lifted to Alex’s, silently accusing her.
Alex looked back at her, blankly. “How the hell should I know?”
“You had something to do with this, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t been smothering him, he would’ve stuck around.”
“Are you saying I pushed him away?”
“You said it. Not me.”
The edges of the envelope crumpled in Brooke’s hand. I pushed him away.
She passed the check to Alex shakily. “Please… please take this to the office.”
Alex took it without a word, and when she was gone, Brooke collapsed against Morning Glory’s stall. It was her fault. She wanted Dejado so badly, she smothered him. She scared him off. Not only had she lost the chance to date him, but completely lost him as a friend too.
But it wasn’t too late, was it? She could find him. She could watch the jockey lists at the tracks and see if he was on them. Surely he would be on them. Where else would he go?
She’d find him, and she’d get him back.
Alex stared at the check in her hand, knowing what it was for, and doubting there would be any more of them with Dejado out of the picture. Had she made things worse for Brooke? Maybe Carol was right. Maybe it was time to try to play extra nice and help bring Morning Glory to North Oak.
She slipped into the main office and passed the paper to the blonde lady sitting at the desk.
“This month’s rent?” the lady asked.
Alex nodded. “For Brooke Merrsal.”
The gal smiled and placed the check in a folder in a drawer beside her. “Thanks.”
“Yup.” Alex headed back out. She hunkered until her shoulders nearly touched her ears. She was glad Dork Face wouldn’t be around to weird her out, or distract Brooke anymore, but on the other hand she felt guilty for telling him to get lost. She had a feeling he’d gone to Belmont like Johnathan had suggested, but who was she to tell Brooke that?
Alex worried that if she told her what she’d over heard, Brooke would pick up and take off after him. And that reckless behavior just wasn’t like her. That wasn’t Brooke. Behaving like that was going to get her into trouble, or worse, hurt.
She sort of hated this having a heart thing. With… feels.
Alex sighed and rolled her eyes, wondering what she was even doing here. She made her way back to the barn to find Brooke in the aisle, head buried in her knees that she hugged to her chest.
Alex sat down beside her, drawing her own knees close. She was quiet for a long time, listening to Brooke cry softly.
“You have jealousy issues.”
Brooke wiped her eyes with her wrist. “No. Really?”
“What I don’t get is why. I’m nobody.” Alex stared straight ahead, waiting for her to respond.
“If you’re nobody, I want to be nobody too.”
She looked at Brooke sternly. “You’ve got to stop making yourself sick over Dejado.”
“It’s not just Dejado. It’s you.” Brooke looked back to her, bitterly. “Ever since you came here, I feel like you get everything. Alex this and Alex that. You even get the guy.”
“What?” Alex’s brow knit.
“He’s into you. Couldn’t you tell?”
“Why would I even care? You liked him. I wasn’t going to get in the way of that.”
“It didn’t matter. I couldn’t stand that he liked you and not me. And as long as you were around, that wasn’t going to change. I tried to make it change, but I made it worse. He’s gone and it’s my fault.”
“Well now maybe you’ll pay attention to what matters.” Alex knocked her knuckles against Morning Glory’s stall door. The filly nickered.
“I don’t have a jockey. I don’t have a trainer. Her race is at Churchill next week. I can barely afford the entry fee.”
“And how is chasing Dejado like Pepe LePe
w going to fix any of that?”
“It’s not.”
“So you can focus now and get crap done.”
Brooke squinted at her. “Somewhere, deep down. I know you had something to do with this.”
Alex huffed and got to her feet. “Ride your own damn horse today, Stick. I’ll see you at the car.”
When she got to the old Cadillac, she braced against the ugly old thing and kicked the tire several times. Alex covered her face and leaned across the hood. She thought maybe being invisible again would be a whole lot easier than this.
After working Morning Glory and putting her away for the night, Brooke swung by the front office. With Dejado gone, she had no jockey, and she knew Pop would refuse to sign as Mags’s trainer. She expected to find the blonde receptionist at the desk, but it was empty and the office was quiet.
“Is anyone here?” she called.
A face she hadn’t seen before looked out from the office behind the desk. “Hello,” he said.
“Hello. I’m Brooke Merrsal, and—”
“I know who you are. Come in.”
Brooke approached cautiously and took a seat at the desk in his room. She looked around at photos on the wall, reminded of Mr. North’s office back home.
The man took a seat at the desk across from her. “I’m Len Leander. I own Clearbrook. What can I help you with?”
Brooke cleared her throat, suddenly feeling nervous. She folded her hands in her lap. “So I’ve found a race I want to enter Morning Glory in at Churchill Downs, but they won’t lease stalls to single horses, and I don’t have a trainer who will sign off on her. Can you help me?”
“You’re in luck. Our trainer is headed out to Churchill for the spring meet. We’ll call him and have a stall arranged for you, under one condition.”
Brooke was surprised he was so accommodating, but she knew there had to be a catch. “What’s that?”
“I’ve been reviewing your filly’s paperwork. As a racehorse, she’s worthless, but she has respectable bloodlines. I’d like to add her to our broodmare band upon retirement. Clearbrook will sponsor your entry and board, provided she carries our silks and you sell her to us after this race. The breeding season isn’t quite over. There’s still time to get a foal from her.”
