Andy Squared

by Jennifer Lavoie

  That particular morning Andrea had woken up with a sore throat and no voice, and begged, silently, to stay home. Their mother agreed to it and ordered her to stay in bed, which meant Andrew would have a quiet ride out to Ryder’s place without Andrea harassing him about college.

  “Where’s Andrea?” Ryder asked as he slid across bench seat, dumping his bag on the floor.

  “Home sick. Sore throat.”

  “Think she’s faking it?”

  “No, it’s real. She looked like crap. She even wanted me to stay home and take care of her.” He laughed.

  “Ah.”

  Even with Ryder in the cab it was quiet but not uncomfortable. Ryder fiddled with the radio for a few minutes before giving up. “Radio sucks.”

  “It’s the snow interfering with the signal. Or something.”

  “No, your radio just sucks.”

  They grinned at each other from across the bench seat. Few cars filled the school parking lot when they pulled in. “I bet a lot of kids skip today,” Andrew said as he threw the truck in park and they climbed out.

  “Do you ever get like, snow days up here?”

  “Yeah, when it’s really bad.”

  “What do you consider really bad?”

  “Um, when the roads are covered in ice. Or when there’s more than a foot of fresh snow on the roads. Blizzard. Nor’easter. Things like that.”

  “Think we’ll have one soon?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. Hard to tell at this point.” Andrew waited a moment before he added, “It was a quiet ride without Andrea. I liked it.”

  Ryder glanced over at him, one eyebrow quirked. “Oh? I thought you two were inseparable,” he joked.

  “Yeah, well, it’s nice to have space sometimes.”

  Andrew walked into the school with Ryder close behind him and the two stomped the snow off their shoes. Just past the doormat someone had placed a yellow caution sign, warning anyone who entered of water on the floor. The boys headed for their lockers.

  Cynthia stood at hers when they walked past, and she slammed the door shut and walked away, nose in the air.

  “What was that all about?” Ryder asked, turning to watch her leave.

  “I broke up with her,” Andrew replied calmly.

  “When?”

  “After the season ended. The day after, I think.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why, you interested?” Andrew glanced at him.

  Ryder laughed and stared at him. “You think I would be interested in her? That’s funny.”

  “Well, whatever. She’s not seeing anyone if you wanted to ask her out. At least she wasn’t yesterday, who really knows now.”

  “Nah, I’m interested in someone else,” Ryder said as he fiddled with the combination on the locker he leaned against.

  The words shocked Andrew and he looked up at him. He likes someone already? He just moved here. Curiosity got the best of him and he asked, “Really? Who?”

  Ryder just shrugged noncommittally and moved to his locker a few spaces down.

  Andrew wanted to press him further, but Danielle Fisher walked past Ryder and wormed her way between him and Andrew. “I thought you were going to call me last night.”

  Andrew swore under his breath, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, Danielle. I totally forgot.”

  “You forgot? You forget a lot, Andy. At least that’s what I hear. Are we still on for tonight?”

  “Yeah, sure. Of course.” Andrew leaned forward and quickly kissed her. Danielle wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down against her, not letting him pull back. After long seconds, she let go, blew him a kiss, and took off down the hall.

  This one isn’t going to last two months, Andrew thought as he stared into his locker.

  “Okay, you didn’t tell me about Cynthia, and I know you didn’t tell me about Danielle. When the hell did that happen?”

  “Must have slipped my mind. She got to me right after I broke up with Cynthia. I didn’t think it was that big a deal.” Andrew felt uncomfortable with the conversation and shoved books into his locker.

  “Dating someone slipped your mind? Andy, do you like girls?”

  “What? Of course! Why would you say that?” He looked up at Ryder, horrified.

  “Because every time I see your girlfriend, or whatever you’d call Danielle, touch you? You get this look on your face.”

  “A look?”

  “Yeah, like you’re sick,” Ryder replied seriously.

  Andrew choked and shook his head. “No, I like it. They just get clingy after a while. Can’t stand that.”

  “Right…”

  “What?” Andrew frowned, slamming the locker shut. He didn’t like the tone of Ryder’s voice.

  “Nothing,” his friend said and turned away from him.

  “Well, it’s not really any of your business anyway, who I date or don’t.”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “We are.”

  Ryder tilted his head and looked back at him with a strange look on his face. Andrew couldn’t describe it, but he thought for a moment that Ryder could see right inside him. “Isn’t that something you tell your friends about? Or are things different up here? Because down in Texas, the guys bragged about it all the time whenever they scored a hot one. And last I checked, Danielle would fit that description.”

  Confused by his own anger, Andrew grabbed his things, taking off for first period. Ryder followed behind him seconds later, matching his stride with his long legs.

  “Andrew, wait—”

  He spun to face Ryder. “Okay, look. Maybe dating is not something I really care about so much, but I have a—”

  “If you say a reputation to protect, I’ll punch you right now.”

  “What?” Andrew stopped, startled. Why would that deserve a punch? And could Ryder even do that? His lips turned down in a small frown. No, definitely not. Ryder didn’t seem capable of hurting a fly. Andrew had never even heard Ryder raise his voice.

  “What kind of reputation would you have to protect? Everyone in this school thinks you’re awesome. I’m new and I know that already. The girls love you. The guys want to be you,” he said as a sly grin crossed over his face. “Hell, some of the guys want you, too.”

  Andrew felt the heat creep into his face, sure it had turned a shade that bordered on fire engine red. Without replying, he headed toward class in a brisk walk.

  “You don’t have to protect anything,” Ryder pressed, catching up with him again. “No one would care. Why should they? You’re a cool guy to hang with.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe nothing,” Ryder argued.

  “I’ve dated a lot of girls. It’s kind of expected by now, I guess.”

  “Man, that is bullshit.”

  Andrew did a double take. “Is that why you don’t date? Because you think it’s bullshit? Sarah wants you, you know.” Andrew shifted his books to the other arm and opened the door to their history class.

  “Yeah, I know, but I don’t want her.” Ryder stopped him from entering the classroom with a light grip on his wrist. “She’s not my type.”

  “What is your type?” Andrew asked, genuinely curious. He let the door shut, muffling the sounds of their classmates.

  “Not that.”

  “Just ‘not that’?”

  “Yup,” Ryder grinned.

  Andrew sighed and shook his head. “You can be so cryptic.”

  “Your life was boring before I got here, being all cryptic. Admit it. I bring excitement.”

  Andrew regarded him thoughtfully and seriously for a moment before grabbing the door handle again. “You bring something, all right. I just don’t know what.”

  *

  Class that morning consisted of a pop quiz that they were informed came from a test they had the next week. The entire class groaned in unison at the thought of yet another test. While they were reviewing, Ryder leaned across the aisle toward Andrew, speaking soft
ly and keeping his face on the front of the classroom to watch for Mrs. Appleby. The teacher stood with her back to the room, pointing out various battle locations on a map, occasionally consulting her textbook.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice a near inaudible murmur, but Sarah turned to look at him curiously. He waved a hand and she pouted but turned to face the front again. Ryder dropped his voice even lower.

  “What? You’re going to get us in trouble,” Andrew muttered.

  “You should come over and ride tonight.”

  “I told you, I don’t know how to ride.”

  Ryder quirked the corner of his lips up and leaned closer. “So you’ve said. But I’ll teach you. It’s not so hard. We have a lot of calm horses,” he added. When Andrew hesitated, he nudged him gently. “Come on. What do you say?”

  “All right…I’ll call Danielle and tell her I can’t come over,” he said, feeling a bit relieved by the new plans and guilty at the same time. But the relief outweighed the guilt. Karina glanced back at him, her eyes questioning, and he shook his head.

  He’d just tell Danielle something came up with Andrea.

  She’d have to understand.

  Chapter Six

  “She dumped you for changing your plans? Man, that’s harsh,” Ryder said as they pulled up to his house.

  She had been upset, but okay with changing the date until Andrew had slipped up and mentioned that it was Ryder’s house he was going to, not home to take care of Andrea. And that’s when she lost it. “I guess I deserved it, though. I promised her, and then I broke the promise to hang out with you,” Andrew lamented. “But worse, I lied about it at first.”

  “You lied? Fatal mistake.”

  “I guess.” He parked the truck and sat there with his hand draped over the steering wheel, staring out the window. “Girls can be so…I don’t know—”

  “Annoying? Frustrating? Fickle? Conceited? Confusing? All of the above?” Ryder started, ticking off descriptions on his fingers. Andrew glanced at him and rolled his eyes. At least one of them appeared to be having fun with this. Andrew continued to brood, taking in the Kensingtons’ farm. The lights were on in the barn, and in the house the kitchen light shone brightly through the curtains. From the chimney a light plume of smoke rose over the buildings.

  “Why are you so broken up over it? It didn’t seem like you really liked her that much.”

  “I didn’t. But”—Andrew felt sheepish—“I haven’t gotten laid in weeks.”

  Ryder shook his head and climbed out of the vehicle. “Oh, poor you. Come on.”

  The snow from the last storm crunched lightly underfoot as they walked to the barn. Dumping their bags on a table in the corner, they walked down the row of stalls to find Kyle Kensington mucking out one of them. He didn’t notice them for a minute and continued to work in silence.

  “Hey, Uncle Kyle,” Ryder said. The man started and whipped around, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Ryder! You scared me, son. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “Sorry, but we weren’t really that quiet.”

  “No matter. Hello, Andrew.”

  “Hi, Mr. Kensington.”

  “I brought Andrew over to ride. He’s never been before,” Ryder said, walking to one of the stalls and scratching the cheek of the horse inside.

  “All right. Be careful. And take Magpie. She hasn’t been exercised yet.” Finishing up with the stall, Ryder’s uncle put some new hay down and disappeared with the wheelbarrow out the door.

  Magpie was a black-and-white mare. Her head and back were a dark, nearly blue black, and her chest, shoulder and barrel were a snowy white. She greeted them at the door of her stall and leaned over, lipping Ryder’s palm for a nonexistent treat. Ryder chuckled softly.

  “Sorry, Magpie. I don’t have anything just yet. Andy, this is Magpie. Magpie, Andy.”

  Andrew felt a little foolish talking to the horse. But Ryder was doing it, so what the heck? “Uh, hello.”

  “It’s okay to talk to a horse. They can understand you. I talk to Cobalt all the time,” he added for reassurance. Andrew nodded. “All right, let’s get you set up.” Grabbing the lead rope tacked up outside the stall, Ryder clipped it onto her halter, opened the door, and led her out.

  “Don’t I need something to sit on?” Andrew asked, looking at the horse skeptically. Ryder laughed at him as he tied the mare up to ropes between the stalls. “What’s that for?”

  “We’ll get you a saddle in a second. This is to keep her in place while we get her ready. After we ride, we’ll groom them. But right now, before we go, I like to give the horses a quick brush before I put the saddle on, and then I check the hooves.”

  “Oh, but…” Andrew indicated the ropes.

  “If we don’t tie them up on both sides and you’re working here,” Ryder said as he stood between the horse and one wall, “the horse can lean against you and push you into the wall. Especially if you’re giving them a good brushing. They like that. But I guarantee you wouldn’t.”

  Andrew nodded and followed him as he got Cobalt out of his stall and led him to a space a few feet behind Magpie and tied him up as well. Then he motioned for Andrew to follow him through a door at the other end of the barn from the one they entered.

  “Where are we going? Is it okay to leave them like that?”

  “It’s fine,” Ryder said, flipping on the light. “This is the tack room. We keep all the hardware we need to ride in here. Saddles, saddle pads, harnesses, halters, bridles, you name it. It’s all here.”

  “You just spoke Greek, because I have no idea what you said.” Andrew looked around the small room and noted all the cubbies with various leather contraptions in them or hanging next to them. Saddles filled half of the boxes, with long, leather ropes next to each. He gingerly reached out and touched one.

  Ryder watched him, amused. Looking over the saddles, he found Magpie’s and frowned, glancing from the saddles, to Andrew, and back again.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m just debating whether to put you in an English saddle or Western for your first time.”

  “What’s the difference?” Andrew asked, looking over the two saddles. He could visibly see the difference as soon as he got a look at them. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. The English saddle has no horn to hold on to. It’s smaller, lightweight, better padded. The stirrups are a little smaller…stirrups!”

  Confused by the sudden change in tone, Andrew turned to look at him and blinked. “What about the stirrups?”

  “You’re wearing sneakers. You need boots. It’s easier to keep your foot in the stirrup when you have a heel so you don’t slip through. What size shoe are you?”

  “Ten,” he answered, still mystified.

  “I think my uncle is a size ten, hold on.” Ryder disappeared through a door Andrew hadn’t noticed at the back of the tack room. Inside, the lights flipped on for a moment and then back off. Ryder emerged holding a pair of worn, brown boots in his hand. “Yeah, these should fit you. I’ll just let him know you borrowed them. He shouldn’t mind.”

  “Um…what were you saying before about the saddles?”

  “Oh! Right. The stirrups are smaller than a Western style,” which he gestured toward. “They use these at the fairs for those pony rides you take.”

  “Took, Ryder. Took.” Andrew felt his face heat again.

  Ryder rested his hands on his hips and leaned against the wall. “Fine, took. They’re heavier with sturdier stirrups, and they have the horn. I guess it is okay to use when you first learn because you can hold on to it, but it’s not as comfortable. I use an English saddle. I think you should too this time, and we’ll see what you think.”

  “Don’t cowboys use those? The Westerns?”

  “Well, yeah. So?”

  “So…you lived in Texas.”

  “That doesn’t make me a cowboy, Andy.”

  Grabbing a saddle and saddle pad, Ryder dumped them in Andrew’s arms and then grabbed one o
f the rope-like contraptions Andrew had noticed and settled that over the saddle. “That’s the bridle,” Ryder explained as he debated the helmets.

  “I’m not wearing a helmet.”

  “You’re new, you’re wearing one. Don’t argue.”

  The tone in his voice wouldn’t allow for any argument. It was firm and very businesslike. Ryder was a different person outside of school. Andrew liked it. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” Ryder asked.

  “Aren’t you going to wear a helmet?”

  “I’ve been riding for years. I can manage without one if we’re just in the field.”

  Andrew glared as Ryder fitted the helmet to his head, then satisfied with the size, plopped it onto the stack Andrew already held. Andrew watched his friend pick up the same equipment for himself—minus a helmet. Ryder carried his stuff gracefully out of the room. Andrew followed behind, struggling a bit under the cumbersome weight and nearly tripping over a rope that rested on the floor in his direct path.

  “I’ll put Cobalt’s things on first, and you can watch, and then we’ll work on Magpie together.”

  Setting the things down on a bench as directed, Andrew traded his sneakers for the boots. They stowed their shoes under the bench seat outside Cobalt’s stall. Before they got started, Ryder showed him how to check the hooves for any debris and clean them out, and then gave Cobalt a quick brush over his back. When he put on the saddle pad and saddle, he moved quickly and Andrew could not keep up with the swift pace. He stared at the bridle as Ryder slipped it over Cobalt’s head, over the halter, and made a face.

  “What?” Ryder asked when he glanced back over his shoulder.

  “I’m lost.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” Leaving the halter tied to the crossties for the moment, they worked on the mare next. The two had to work close in the narrow space between the horse’s body and the walls, and soon they were getting in each other’s way as Ryder guided Andrew’s hands. When their bodies brushed together for the fifth time, not that Andrew was counting, he felt an uncomfortable flush start on his cheeks and silently prayed it wouldn’t spread to his neck. The air grew thick with tension as they prepared the horse. Ryder brushed up against him again, and Andrew shivered despite the heat from the horse’s body.