The Perfect Distance

by Kim Ablon Whitney

  Tara and Gwenn headed back to the barn right away, but Katie and I lingered. We walked Tobey and Stretch around the field and talked to Susie, who had sat down on the edge of the bank.

  “So how’s school?” she asked us.

  “Fine,” Katie said. “Especially since I’m never there.”

  “Francie?”

  I shrugged. “You know. The usual.” Of course, ever since the test, school had been anything other than the usual.

  “Your father said you’re deciding which colleges to apply to?”

  I reached down and patted Tobey. “That’s what he thinks, yeah.”

  Susie knew I wanted to ride professionally. I figured if anyone would understand my not wanting to go to college, it would be her. But she said, “You should go to college. I wish I had.”

  “Why?”

  “Just because . . . I’d have other options besides this.”

  “Okay, so my dad begged you to talk to me,” I said. “That much is clear.”

  “I’m serious,” Susie said, ignoring my hunch.

  “Like what else would you do?” Katie asked.

  It was the exact same thing I had been thinking—it was hard to imagine Susie doing anything besides horses.

  “I always liked photography,” she said. “I would have taken some photography classes . . . see where that led me. Katie, I know you want to go into fashion design. Francie, what do you think you would do if you weren’t riding?”

  I tried to think about what else I might be interested in besides horses. I’d never really considered there might be anything else.

  “What are your favorite subjects in school?” she added.

  “Economics is pretty cool,” I said, thinking of Mr. Roth.

  But I wasn’t sure what job economics could lead to—maybe something in business.

  Just then Rob pulled up. He rolled down the window and called out, “Lesson over already?”

  “They were awesome,” Susie called back. “How was the nursing home?”

  “It was like the Ritz. Ma loved it.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Yeah, if you happen to have a couple hundred thousand dollars lying around. You want a ride back to the barn?”

  “Nah,” Susie said. “I’ll walk back with the girls.”

  “Suit yourself,” Rob said, and drove on.

  On the walk back Susie asked, “Are you guys planning anything for the big off weekend?”

  Katie shrugged. “Maybe we’ll go see a movie or something.”

  Before I could think it through, I blurted out, “Or there’s this party . . . one of the guys from my school is having.”

  “That you got invited to?” Katie said it like I was some total loser who could never possibly be invited to anything, least of all a party.

  “Yeah,” I said, all defensive.

  “When is it?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Oh my God, we are so going,” Katie said.

  Susie laughed. “Whatever you guys decide, just be careful, okay? I think it’s great—you deserve to have some fun, take your minds off the finals. I won’t tell Rob. But just be careful.”

  Back in the barn Katie handed Stretch over to Camillo and followed me to Tobey’s stall. “Let’s go to the party,” she pleaded.

  I undid the curb chain on Tobey’s pelham. He hated it to be too tight and was always grateful when I undid it altogether. In fact, it had to be loose or else he would flip his head on course.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I said.

  “Why not? Susie even gave us her blessing.”

  Why not? It was a good question. I couldn’t graduate from high school without going to at least one party. Doug had invited me, and Becca really seemed to want me to go. Maybe this was my shot to finally see what it was like and if I was really missing out. Why not? I asked myself again. What would be so wrong with having a little fun? Like Susie said, we deserved a break.

  “Please?” Katie tried again.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  I thought I might have a harder time getting Dad to let me go to the party. But he almost seemed happy I was taking an interest in something besides the barn.

  “A party at school and you want to go?”

  “It’s not at school,” I said. “It’s at someone’s house.”

  “But someone from school?”

  “Yup.”

  He made me promise to be back by eleven-thirty, which I knew Katie would think was insanely early, but she would have to deal. At least we were going. “How are you getting there? Do you need the truck?” he asked.

  “No, Katie’s driving.”

  “Will there be drinking?”

  “Probably.”

  “But Katie won’t be drinking?”

  “No,” I said.

  Dad never drank, not even a beer with the rest of the guys after a long day at the farm. Maybe it was because he never knew when one of the horses, like Finch, might get sick and he would have to drive the trailer to the vet clinic. But I was pretty sure it had more to do with the fact that he’d seen too many grooms turn to drinking to try to cure their loneliness from being so far away from their home and their families. Too many times we’d witnessed grooms dragging themselves into the barn an hour late in the morning, hung over and reeking of booze. If Dad noticed it before Rob, he’d immediately take the person aside and try to help him. He’d even taken a few guys to AA meetings over the years. Sometimes they’d clean up their act, but it didn’t always last. And if Rob found out, they’d be gone that day. He didn’t tolerate drinking around the horses. I guess Dad knew that it might be easy for him to fall into the same trap. Even though we had each other and he’d been in the States for so long now, there had to be times he missed home.

  Dad didn’t ask whether I’d be drinking. I guess he just assumed I wouldn’t.

  “And you won’t get in the car with Katie if she drinks,” he said. “You’ll call me and I’ll come pick you up.”

  “Yup,” I confirmed.

  “Okay,” Dad said.

  So it was settled. I was going to my very first party. When I thought about it, I got all jumpy inside. Better late than never, I figured.

  I went over to Katie’s room at around eight. She was blow-drying her hair with a round brush.

  “Hey,” she said. She had on a pair of tight skinny jeans and a black scoop-neck shirt that revealed serious cleavage.

  “Do you want to borrow some clothes?” Katie asked, eyeing what I had on.

  “You’re saying I look terrible?” I looked at my boy-cut jeans and hoodie sweatshirt.

  “Kind of,” she said, turning to look at the mess of clothes on her bed. “Let’s find you something better . . . I have all these clothes—”

  I walked over and picked up a glittery shirt. “I don’t know.”

  “That would look so cute on you,” Katie said.

  “I don’t think I can do glitter.”

  Katie grabbed the glittery shirt from me and tossed it back onto the pile. “I promise this won’t be one of those teen movie makeovers,” she said. “You know, where I do your makeup and your hair and you change from the girl with glasses and paint-splattered overalls to a teen model.”

  “I don’t wear glasses or overalls,” I said.

  “Exactly.” Katie grabbed a shirt off the bed. “So just put on this shirt . . .” She grabbed a pair of leggings. “And these . . .”

  “No glitter,” I repeated.

  “No glitter.”

  After I was dressed to Katie’s satisfaction and she had put on her makeup and a finishing squirt of Gucci perfume, we texted Becca for the address of the party. She texted back with the address and saying she was so psyched I was coming. I told her I was bringing a friend from the barn.

  It struck me as strange right then that Becca didn’t really know about Katie. And for that matter that Katie didn’t really know about Becca. But that was the way it was with my two worlds. Nei
ther really had much to do with the other. Only tonight they were about to converge.

  When we pulled up to the house, cars already lined the street. “Butt-ugly house,” Katie said.

  The house, a pink ranch, wasn’t very attractive. Especially compared to the penthouses on the Upper East Side and beach houses in the Hamptons that Katie was used to.

  I’d assumed we would take a moment before we went in to make a game plan, but Katie was out of the car and headed up the cement walkway before I could stop her. I had no choice but to follow her inside. Music blared, and people stood in clumps drinking from plastic cups. I had watched this very scene on TV and in movies plenty of times before, but I still felt like it was all new. I looked around—I didn’t know anyone and even if I recognized someone from a class, it wasn’t like I had actually ever spoken to them.

  While I was feeling awkward and out of place, Katie seemed right at home. She marched up to the first person she saw and said, “Where’s the keg?”

  The guy pointed to the back of the house. “Kitchen.”

  I followed Katie while trying to keep an eye out for Becca. I had the idea that once I was with Becca, I wouldn’t feel so out of place. In the kitchen a bunch of guys from the football team stood huddled around the keg. Besides the fact that most of them were huge, they were easy to identify because of their letter jackets. Unfortunately the few people I would know tonight—Doug and the twins—weren’t among them.

  “Hey,” Katie said to Tom Deacon, who besides Doug was one of the other stars of the team. Like Doug, he also happened to be one of the cutest guys in the entire school. “What does a girl have to do to get a beer around here?”

  “Depends,” he said, taking in the sight of Katie and her cleavage. “What are you willing to do?”

  She cocked her head, all flirtatious. “What do you want me to do?”

  I couldn’t believe Katie. If only she was this assertive in the ring. As Tom handed her a beer, I spotted Becca through the open door into the living room. She was with Tracy, but at this point I’d take what I could get.

  Katie passed me a beer. I took it, not sure whether I’d drink it. I hadn’t told Dad I wouldn’t.

  “I see Becca,” I told her. “Come on.”

  I expected Katie to protest leaving Tom, but she followed me into the other room.

  “Hey,” Becca said. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!”

  “Becca, this is Katie, my friend from the barn; Katie, this is Becca, my friend from school.”

  Tracy glared at me. I don’t think she was used to being left out.

  “Oh yeah,” I added. “This is Tracy.”

  “So I can’t believe you got Francie to go out,” Becca said.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Katie answered, and took a sip of her beer.

  “I bet,” Tracy added.

  I wanted to point out that Katie hadn’t really needed to convince me.

  “Where’s Doug?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “He’s coming with Peters and Pepper.”

  “Who’s Doug?” Katie asked.

  “My boyfriend,” Becca said, practically beaming.

  Katie leaned in closer. “Okay, so tell me everything about that total hottie in there.”

  “Who?” Becca asked.

  “Tom Deacon,” I supplied.

  “Oh, total babe,” Becca said.

  “And single, too,” Tracy added.

  Becca looked surprised. “Since when?”

  “Just last week. Jenna broke up with him.”

  “Who’s Jenna?” Katie said. “And why’d she dump him?”

  Becca nodded to where Jenna Sanders was standing across the room. She was pretty in a fake, anorexic kind of way: thin with bleached-blond hair.

  Tracy explained, “That’s her, and I don’t know why she dumped him. Probably just wanted a little drama in her life.”

  “Oh, the old break-up-so-you’ll-want-me-back thing,” Katie said.

  “Or she was sick of him scamming on other girls,” Becca said.

  As Katie was scoping Jenna out, a guy with a buzz cut and glasses who was in my economics class came by with a tray of what looked like little paper cups of Jell-O. I had always thought he was a geek like me, but apparently he was much cooler than I was.

  “Hors d’oeuvres, anyone?” he asked.

  “Hmmm,” Katie said. “My favorite kind. Right up there with caviar.”

  “Jell-O?” I said.

  “Jell-O shots,” Tracy informed me.

  They all giggled at my cluelessness and my face burned. I was glad they all seemed to be getting along, but I didn’t need them bonding anymore over me not having a life outside of the barn. Becca and Tracy reached for a cup. Katie grabbed two.

  The guy offered me one, and I politely shook my head. I hadn’t even taken a sip of the beer I had in my hand.

  “Hold everything!” he said, seemingly noticing me for the first time. “You’re the horse girl, right? You always miss class because you’re off racing or something?”

  “Yeah,” I said, wishing he would keep his voice down. “That’s me.”

  “Cool! The horse girl got out of the barn.”

  He started to walk away, but Katie stopped him. “Wait,” she said, downing the second of her Jell-O shots and reaching for a third from his tray. “I hate to fill up on hors d’oeuvres, but what the hell!”

  When he had left, Katie said, “He was kind of cute in a future Wall Streeter kind of way.”

  “Look out, she’s on the prowl,” Tracy said.

  “I’m allowed,” Katie replied. “I go to an all-girls school.”

  We hung out talking a while longer. I wanted to tell Katie to slow down on the drinking, but I couldn’t figure out a good way to say it without sounding like a complete loser. What with the three Jell-O shots and the beer she was fast on her way to being wasted, which became clear as she started going on about how much money her dad makes. It came up when she was explaining how he yelled at her all the time about her riding.

  “My dad does the whole live-vicariously-through-my-progeny thing,” she rattled on, talking fast. “He’s not like Francie’s dad. Her dad is so nice. Have you met Juan? He’s the absolute best. My dad . . . I swear sometimes I just want to say to him, if you want to win so badly, just go buy a grand prix horse and get one of the top riders to ride it and then you can win. I mean, it’s not like he can’t afford it. He makes a couple million dollars a year . . . .”

  Becca was smiling, but I could tell from the look on her face she was just trying to be polite. People at our school didn’t have parents who made millions of dollars. I tried not to shudder visibly as Katie talked. I hated when people talked about money, which horse show people somehow always ended up doing. I was almost glad when Katie’s attention turned to Tom and his crew, who had just come into the room.

  “Oh, there’s that guy, Tim,” she said.

  “Tom,” I corrected.

  “Whatever,” Katie said. “I would so tap that.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. “Come on. We’re going to say hello!”

  Katie walked right up to Tom, stepping in between two other beefy football guys he was talking to, and said, “You relinquished your duties as keeper of the keg?”

  “Who are you?” Tom asked.

  “Who are you?” Katie shot back.

  Tom looked at me. “Do you guys even go to West?”

  “She does,” Katie said. “I’m from New York City.” She put the emphasis on the city part, like she was way too cool for all of us. Things were going beyond the embarrassing stage. I was seriously starting to wish I hadn’t come. I felt completely out of place and I missed the barn, where I always felt at home.

  “You go here?” Tom said to me. “I’ve never seen you around. What’s your name?”

  Of course he hadn’t seen me around. First of all, I hardly ever was around. And second of all, we didn’t exactly run in the same circles: Tom wasn’t an honor s
tudent taking the high level classes.

  “You mean you don’t know Francie?” Katie said.

  “You really go to West?” Tom said.

  Instead of answering Tom’s question, I turned to Katie. “I think I’m gonna leave,” I told her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I’m tired.” I realized that to Tom, talking about being tired sounded completely lame, but I was beginning not to care how I looked to these people anymore.

  “Don’t go yet,” Tom said.

  And that was all Katie needed. “Come on, Francie,” she said. “Live a little.”

  But this wasn’t about living. It was about Katie being drunk and annoying. So I just turned and walked away, leaving her to throw herself at Tom. I plunked my untouched cup of beer on a table.

  Of course I didn’t have a ride home without Katie and I wasn’t calling my dad to pick me up—even though he’d told me to. I looked for Becca. She and Tracy were now talking with a bunch of other girls from the soccer team. I could have gone over and joined them, but I would have had nothing to say and I would have ended up feeling more out of place, if that was even possible. Instead I ended up sitting outside the house on the front steps, shivering, since the night had turned cold. I kept checking my watch and with each passing minute getting madder and madder at Katie and her stupid idea to come to this party, which had really been my idea, too. I was thinking about breaking down, calling Dad, and leaving Katie there, which I didn’t want to do because she shouldn’t drive, when Doug and the twins showed up.

  “Hey, it’s my tutor!” Doug called out as they lumbered up the path.

  “Francie,” I said.

  “I know your name,” Doug said.

  Peters sat down on one side of me and Pepper plopped down next to me on the other side. “What’s wrong?” Peters asked.

  “You look sad,” Pepper added.

  “Maybe you could tutor me in Spanish, too,” Doug said. “You speak Spanish, right?”

  “Actually, I take French.”

  “But come on, you speak Spanish, don’t you? ¿Hablás español?”

  “Leave me alone,” I said. Things were going from bad to worse. I couldn’t believe I’d given a jackass like Doug my test.

  “Whoa,” Doug called out. “We gotta get this girl a beer . . . get her to lighten up a little.”