Peyton laughs under her breath and curls her pinkie around mine one last time before severing contact. “Sounds like it needs to be rocked. I’ve got this one.” She pushes to her feet, and a mild panic stirs within my gut.
We haven’t settled anything. I don’t know where we stand, if we’re back together, if we have hope of doing so in the future, or even if she wants me. If she forgives me for my hurtful, boneheaded mistakes of the past.
As she pads past me, I grasp her wrist and ask, “Are we okay?”
It just scratches the surface of my questions, but for now it’ll do. Peyton takes a breath before answering, only ratcheting up my anxiety.
“Yeah,” she finally says, her guarded eyes searching mine. “We’re good.”
I nod, slowly, glad to hear the words, and release my grip. She walks out of the gazebo, and I continue to sit here, watching a lone bird in the driveway eating some seed Aly threw out earlier, and working through a thousand questions that have no clear answers.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1ST
Aftermath
?Freshman Year
PEYTON
SWEET SERENITY RANCH 5:05 P.M.
“I’m the world’s biggest idiot.” I laid my head on Oakley’s strong, reassuring back and sighed. This was what I’d been reduced to—an openly sobbing, snotty mess, crying on my horse’s back because I was too afraid to face my friends.
Pathetic didn’t even cover it.
It was only a matter of time until Faith or Cade found me. So far I’d been lucky. Mama was so swamped with work she didn’t question me when I said I wasn’t feeling well. Instead, she pulled Faith in to helping as soon as she arrived. As for Cade, he was running late for his shift for the first time in his life. Clearly someone somewhere was on my side, but I knew my luck was running out. Once Faith’s shift was over, she’d come out here and find me, just like she always did, somehow sensing my distress. She’d take my hand and bring me back to my room where we’d hide out with chocolate and Zac Efron movies like we did whenever my illness got to be too much.
But Cade would push for answers.
He’d always been a good friend to me, but over the last year or so, he’d taken protective to a whole new level. All it would take is one look at my splotchy, swollen face, and he’d demand to know what happened. Once he pulled the entire story from me, I knew he’d take off after Justin. I didn’t need that. I didn’t even want that. All I wanted to do was forget.
I lifted my head and laughed. “Do what scares you, huh, girl?” I ran my hand down Oakley’s side. “God, what a crock. Look where that’s led me so far… hiding from my family and friends, and crying here alone.” Annie’s ears pricked forward and she nickered softly. “Sorry, girl. You know you’re awesome company.”
Honestly, for years now, Annie Oakley had been my closest friend. Sure, I had Faith and Cade and even Trevor to some degree. I had the kids in my homeschool co-op and at church. But it wasn’t the same. A special bond forms between a girl and her horse, a bond only animal lovers can truly understand. Oakley could read me without words. She felt my moods, seemed to know when I needed to ride fast and furious, or take it slow and easy. Riding her is where I found my joy.
Losing that was the cruelest blow GBS ever dealt.
When I first got sick, everyone looked at me with fear in their eyes. They had no answers, no way of knowing if and when I’d ever return to normal… and what a weird word, “normal.” Today, most people looked at me and assumed that’s what I was. I conversed and ate on my own, I had an entire semester of public high school behind me. Only my occasional limp would tip off a stranger that I’d ever been sick at all.
But I wasn’t normal. I wasn’t whole. Riding Oakley grounded me. Rodeo was my home. Other than my family, it was where I belonged, a place where I shined, and it had been ripped away from me. A piece of my soul was missing, and after today, I needed it back. Just this once, I needed to do what I loved, because if I didn’t, I might just lose myself altogether.
A shiver of excitement danced down my spine as I realized I’d made up my mind. I latched onto that feeling, wanting to drown out the heartache, and walked around to look Oakley straight in the eyes.
“Wanna ride, girl?”
I didn’t need Justin. I didn’t need any guy. All I needed was to ride. The saddle was my rock, and it hadn’t failed me yet.
Oakley pranced in her stall, and a grin, the first in hours, stretched my cheeks.
My therapists were wrong. Sure, they’d worked miracles, were creative in tailoring my sessions to prepare me to ride again, but I didn’t have to wait. I could do it now. Hippotherapy proved it, and I very rarely lost my balance on a treadmill anymore. They were being overly cautious, and I got it. It was their job. But mine was getting back on Oakley.