by Cole Gibsen
“But I didn’t send you a note,” Christy said. “You left a note for me in my locker.”
“No I didn’t.” Amber inhaled sharply. “Fuck. I bet it was Regan. She really does know. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Maybe she won’t say anything?”
Amber laughed. “Yeah, right. With how the last two days have played out, she’ll destroy me the first chance she gets.”
Silence filled the room before Christy asked, “Why do you do it, Amber? Why do you go after people like you do? It’s not who you are.”
“That’s the point,” Amber said. “I’m not allowed to be who I really am.”
Despite everything she’d done, I actually felt bad for her. I knew exactly what it was like to live a life you didn’t want. How would things have been between us if we’d been honest with each other? With so much in common, we might have been real friends.
“Listen,” Amber said. “I’ve got to go. It’s only a matter of time before that annoying leech Taylor finds me. She totally freaks if she’s not by my side every second of the day.” There was a pause and she added, “We good here?”
“Yeah,” Christy replied flatly. “We’re good.”
“Okay. I’ll call you later.”
I heard the sound of heels clacking back toward the door. A second later, the door squeaked open and Amber’s footsteps faded into the hall beyond.
I didn’t move for several heartbeats. If I hadn’t been holding the camera in my hands, I wouldn’t have believed my own ears. I waited another minute, straining for any sounds that would indicate I wasn’t alone. The locker room remained silent. Satisfied, I climbed off the toilet, turned off the camera, and tucked it inside my backpack. I still couldn’t believe I had an actual sound recording that would get Amber kicked out of school.
My heart raced at the thought. Forget turning the school against her. If I could get rid of Amber completely, I could concentrate on rebuilding my reputation. But even as I had the thought, a knot wedged its way inside my throat. Would ruining someone else’s life honestly make mine better? I unlatched the door as I considered the question—only to stop dead in my tracks.
I wasn’t alone after all.
Christy sat on a wooden bench between two rows of lockers, her head in her hands. She looked up when the stall door smacked against the wall. She jumped to her feet, her blue eyes impossibly wide. “What are you doing here? Wait—” Her eyes widened. “How much did you hear?”
“Um…” I racked my brain for an answer—any answer—and came up blank.
Christy covered her face with her hands. “Fuck.”
Unsure how to respond, I edged toward the door. My movement caught her attention, and her head snapped up.
“Please, Regan.” She laced her hands in front of her. “I know I said some awful things the other morning, but you can’t say anything. I’m begging you. We’ll get kicked out of school. She’d never forgive me for that.”
The old part of me that cared solely about self-preservation wanted to say, Not my problem. But a different part of me choked the words back because of the tears brimming in Christy’s eyes—tears that conveyed it wouldn’t be just Amber’s life I destroyed if I posted the video, but Christy’s as well.
It would be so easy to post it online, sit back, and wait for Amber’s world to fall apart. I wouldn’t even have to get my hands dirty. Just like that, I could have my old life back.
But even as the thoughts stirred through my mind, Nolan’s words echoed inside my head.
Whether you see it or not, that Regan was a joke. She wasn’t real.
My gut clenched and I closed my eyes. Nolan stared at me from the darkness, his face full of disappointment. I wrapped my arms around my stomach.
Christy took a step back. Like maybe she thought I’d throw up on her. “Are you—are you okay?”
Not even close. But maybe, if I could figure out who the real me was, I would be. “I won’t say anything.”
Christy sucked in a deep breath. “Are you serious?”
Apparently the real me was all about sacrificing my social standing based on the opinion of a boy I’d hated until very recently, because I nodded. I hadn’t completely lost my mind, though. I was at least going to give myself some insurance. “I have a condition,” I told her. “You tell Amber I promise to keep your secret so long as she and her band of assholes leave me alone. That means no Facebook posts, no hallway threats—hell, I don’t want them to even look at me. Tell her that.”
Christy bit her lip. “She’s going to be so pissed once she finds out you know. She’s going to blame me.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, other than to ask the question that had been plaguing me since I figured out what they were talking about. “Why are you with her? If things go bad between the two of you, or Amber thinks someone might find out, she’ll destroy you. She’s already proven she has no problem hurting you for her own gain.”
“She wouldn’t really hurt me.” The uncertainty in Christy’s eyes told a different story. “She cares about me.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t trying to be cruel, but I had to tell the truth, even if she didn’t want to hear it. “Amber only cares about herself.”
I expected her to argue. Instead, Christy’s shoulders slumped and her chin dropped to her chest, defeated. “I keep hoping…” she murmured. She didn’t have to finish her sentence for me to understand. Wasn’t I hoping for the same thing, only with my mother? To be loved for who we were instead of what we provided?
Before I could stop myself, I reached out and touched her shoulder.
She flinched but allowed my hand to remain.
“I’m so sorry that I ever thought about hurting you, Christy. I can’t imagine what it’s like having to hide who you are because you go to a school like this. Good job, by the way. I totally had no idea.”
She smiled weakly.
“Anyway,” I continued, “that doesn’t mean settling for less than you deserve. And you deserve a whole lot better than Amber.”
She eyed me skeptically. “It’s because you’re unpopular now, right? That’s why you’re being nice to me? You want back on the cheerleading squad?”
“No.” I dropped my hand from her shoulder. “I’m not even trying to be nice, really. I’m just trying to be…” I paused, searching for the right words. “I’m just trying to be who I think I am—or at least who I wanted to be, before everything got so damn confusing, you know?”
“Yeah.” A sad smile pulled at her lips. “Fuck this high school bullshit.”
I smiled back. “Fuck it.”
“Well, I guess we should get going.” She inclined her head toward the exit.
“You go on ahead,” I told her. “There’s something I have to do.”
She gave me a questioning look. “All right. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Hey, Christy?”
She paused by the door. “Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I had already decided not to tell anyone about you going to rehab when those messages were leaked. I wasn’t the one who told Kiley. Think about what that means, okay?”
She frowned, then nodded. I waited for her to leave the locker room before rummaging through my backpack for a pen. Once I found one, I returned to the handicap stall and scribbled over Delaney Hickler is a fucking whore until it was a mass of black lines. When I finished, I wrote a new message above it.
Christy Holder is fucking awesome.
It was a single line amid a wall of hate. It barely made a difference.
But it was a start—and that was all that mattered.
Chapter Thirteen
If I closed my eyes, I could almost convince myself the soft sand in the arena was actually a cloud beneath my feet—that the horse I led around in circles was a Pegasus, come to fly me away to adventures untold.
As if he could read my thoughts, Rookie snorted. I smiled and opened my eyes. While my life was far from perfect, there were moments I
didn’t need to escape from, and this was one of them.
I looked up at Tamara, the little girl clinging to Rookie’s mane. Black curls spilled out from beneath her riding helmet. Her eyes glistened with excitement, yet her mouth was tight with concentration. I didn’t know her background, but it didn’t matter to me if she struggled with a disability or came from a broken home. All that mattered when I volunteered my and Rookie’s time was that the kid on his back wanted to be there. And I could tell from Tamara’s face there was no place she’d rather be.
We approached a piece of PVC tubing on the ground. “Two-point,” I called out.
Tamara complied. She braced her hands on Rookie’s neck and rose out of the saddle as I guided Rookie over the pole. Pretty soon she wouldn’t need me on the other end of his lead rope—she’d be taking small jumps all on her own. I wondered if she’d close her eyes and pretend to be flying like I used to do.
The thought startled me. I couldn’t remember when I stopped.
“Do you ever pretend the horses are unicorns or have wings?” I asked as we rounded the corner and began another lap.
Tamara made a face. “I’m not a baby. That stuff isn’t real. I like regular horses. They’re real.”
Rookie chuffed as if in agreement.
I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right.” I gently pulled back on the lead rope and Rookie came to a halt. “I think we’re all done for today, Tamara.”
“Aw.” Her face crumpled. “But we just started.”
“An hour ago.” I laughed. “Tell you what, how about you dismount, I’ll take his saddle off, and then you can brush him for a bit, okay?”
Her face lit up. “Okay.”
I held my hand out to her, and she fell into my arms. I lowered her to the ground. Looking past me, she asked, “Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?” I turned and found Nolan standing outside the arena gate. The shock of seeing him was so sharp, I nearly tripped over my own feet. He wore faded jeans that hung low on his hips, and his tattered gray T-shirt hugged his arms and shoulders in all the right places. His hair, never tame on any day, looked even wilder in the breeze.
I had the horrible urge to run my fingers through it.
I cleared my throat, as if that would purge the disturbing thought from my mind. I blinked to make sure I was seeing clearly through the arena dust. He held a different video camera, larger than the one he let me borrow. What was he doing here? I thought he didn’t want to talk to me—especially after the way things had gone between us at school.
The lead rope slid from my hand and fell to the ground. Rookie immediately set his nose to the sand in a hunt for loose hay. I grabbed a brush from a bucket beside the wall and handed it to Tamara. “You can brush him until your mom gets here. I’ll keep an eye on you. Just remember to stay away from his back legs.” In all the years I’d owned Rookie, he’d never once tried to kick me, but it wasn’t too early for her to learn to be cautious.
“Duh.” Tamara rolled her eyes and snatched the brush from my hand.
“I’ll be right over there if you need anything.” I pointed to Nolan.
She ignored me and began brushing Rookie’s front legs. “You’re such a good pony, aren’t you?” she cooed.
I dusted my hands on my breeches and made my way across the arena. Nolan followed my trek with his camera lens. My steps faltered as I became suddenly conscious of the barn grime beneath my nails and the helmet hair from my earlier trail ride. “What are you doing here?”
He kept the camera trained on me. He grinned. “Nice pants.”
A blush warmed my cheeks and I self-consciously ran my hands along the skin-tight fabric of my breeches. “You came here to discuss fashion?”
“No. I want to know what you’re doing here.”
I frowned. “This is a horse barn.” I nodded to Rookie. “And that’s my horse.”
“That’s not what I mean. What are you doing here today?”
“I volunteer for a horse-therapy program every Saturday.”
His camera didn’t budge. “Why?”
I sighed. Apparently I was dealing with the old, annoying Nolan again. I glanced over my shoulder to check on Tamara. She giggled while stroking Rookie’s nose. I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s why. When she first started the program, she was so angry, but Rookie worked his horsey magic and now she’s actually laughing.” I hugged myself. “I never thought I’d see her smile, much less laugh.”
Nolan lowered the camera. “What happened to her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know and I don’t want to. Some of the kids in this program have backgrounds bad enough to keep you awake at night.”
He was quiet a moment, his jaw tight. “God,” he said softly, “that’s awful.”
“Yeah.” I continued watching Tamara and Rookie. “That’s why the program is important.” And then another thought crossed my mind. I turned back to Nolan. “How did you know I was here, anyway?”
He tucked the camera into the messenger bag strapped diagonally across his chest. “Your dad told me.”
I jerked back. “You were at my house?”
“Yeah. I thought we made plans to work on the picture book. Apparently you decided it was more important to stand me up so you could help kids. You can be such an ass sometimes.” He winked.
“But you weren’t talking to me after what happened yesterday. I didn’t think you wanted to work together anymore.”
He leaned across the gate and folded his arms over the metal bar. The amusement left his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry I was an asshole. You frustrate the hell out of me, Regan Flay. I just can’t figure you out.”
“Me?” I laughed sharply. “What about you? You’re in my face one minute and then you’re…” Grabbing my shoulders and pulling me against you. My throat tightened, and I pushed the image from my mind. “You gave me your jacket.”
His eyes hardened. “I guess neither one of us is who the other expected.”
I licked my lips, suddenly unable to speak. It was no wonder, with how intently he was staring at me.
His fingers dangled from the gate, long and lean. For a brief moment, I could feel them on my arms, tightening while drawing me in. I inhaled sharply and looked away.
“How did it go after school?” he asked. “In the locker room? You’re still here, so I’m assuming Amber didn’t get the drop on you?”
“No.”
“Did you get ammunition for your revenge scheme?”
I dug a hole in the sand with the toe of my boot. “Yes and no.”
His brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
I stopped digging and shrugged. “I caught her on film making an admission—something that would get her kicked out of school. She doesn’t know about the video—no one does—and it will stay that way as long as Amber stops harassing me.”
“What?” Nolan pulled back from the gate. “You’re not going to upload it to YouTube or something?”
I kicked up a cloud of sand. “If I post the video, someone else could get hurt in the process.”
“I’m really impressed, Flay. Way to be the bigger man.”
Warmth spread through my stomach, and I made a point to keep my eyes locked on the tops of my boots. “Whatever. Can you please not make a big deal about it? Besides, it’s not like I’m a saint. I’m not going to delete the video or anything stupid. I’m keeping it for insurance. I was going to upload it onto my computer last night, but I don’t have the right size cord. I was hoping you’d upload it and send me a copy? First, you’d have to promise me to not share the video with anyone.” I knew it was a big decision to trust Nolan with the video that could ruin Amber’s and Christy’s lives, but I also knew he’d been nothing but honest with me from the start. While it was startling for me to admit, I trusted him.
“Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers. “Does this mean your grand schemes for revenge and social climbing are over?”
I didn’t answer him right away,
because I didn’t know how to. It was high school, after all. It was only a matter of time before someone else did something equally awful, and while the wrath of the school fell on them, I could fade into the backdrop. Without the spotlight of popularity, I would become just another faded graffiti name on the bathroom stall—forgotten. But was that what I wanted? To be remembered as the girl who said horrible things about people and then disappeared?
No.
Before I could say as much, a woman’s voice called out.
“Tamara?” Behind Nolan, Tamara’s mother approached the gate. Exhaustion hung in dark circles around her eyes, and ketchup and mustard stains decorated the Steak ’n Shake apron still tied around her waist. “You need to come right now. I only have an hour to get you to Gi-Gi’s before my shift at Home Depot.”
“Aw!” The brush fell from Tamara’s fingers onto the sand. “But I don’t want to go to Gi-Gi’s. Her house is so boring. She doesn’t even have a TV.” She wound her small fingers into Rookie’s mane. “I want to stay at the barn with Rookie.”
“Tamara, please!” He mom sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t have time for this. Say good-bye to the horse and let’s go. I have to work.”
Tamara held fast to Rookie’s hair, her eyes welling with unshed tears. “But you always have to work.”
Even though our lives were different, I knew what it was like to have a mother working all the time. My heart bled for both the woman and child, and I racked my brain for a way to help. “I’ll tell you what, Tamara, if you go with your mom right now, I’ll give you a two-hour lesson next week.”
Her mom shot me a grateful look.
Tamara’s mouth twitched. “Why can’t you let me ride for another hour now?”
“Because your mom needs to get to work.”
The gate squealed as Nolan opened it and entered the ring. “You can’t have another lesson right now because Regan promised me a lesson, and it wouldn’t be fair for you to cut into my time.”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
Tamara folded her arms. “The riding program is for kids.”