Summer Circuit (The Show Circuit -- Book 1)

by Kim Ablon Whitney

  “Hi,” I said.

  He looked up. “Oh, hi.”

  I think he actually looked happy to see me. Surprised, but happy.

  “You rode great,” I said.

  “Not great enough, apparently.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Chris hadn’t put his phone away. He held it up like it was the problem. “Harris watched the video stream of the grand prix. He wanted me to go all out and now he’s pissed I didn’t win. But the horse needed that confidence builder.”

  “Was that him calling you before the jump-off?” I said, blurting it out without realizing it made it look like I was scrutinizing his every move.

  “Yup. If I didn’t take the call, he couldn’t tell me what to do, but now it’s bad enough that I didn’t answer and I didn’t win.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “That sucks.”

  “So what’s up?” he said. “Did you need something?”

  “Um, I guess I just wondered why this morning didn’t happen?”

  “Oh, I just, I needed to be concentrating on the grand prix. Saturdays are tough, you know.”

  “Sure,” I said. “I get it. Okay.” I put my hands in my pockets. Was that it? Was I supposed to walk away?

  Dale came out and said, “All set, boss.” He gave me a sideways glance, like he didn’t like that I might be messing with Chris’s state of mind. I had heard more about Dale from Zoe. Dale had worked for the barn Chris rode with as a junior and he had become like a combination of Chris’s older brother and a guardian. Chris’s parents couldn’t go on the road all the time so Dale essentially took care of Chris. Over the years their relationship had changed and developed, and now Dale was his barn manager. Zoe said Dale was the person that besides his parents Chris trusted most in the world. He was his go-to person for advice on horses . . . and life.

  “Okay, so you’re going to hardware store,” Chris said.

  “Guess so,” Dale said, not budging.

  “Good, see you later.”

  Dale eyed me again and then left.

  “Hey, can I see the horse you were talking about? The one you picked out in Europe?” I asked Chris.

  “Sure.” Chris stood up and led me down the aisle. The white dog followed, staying close to Chris. “This is Jasper,” Chris said.

  I patted Jasper but he didn’t seem very interested in affection from anyone else besides Chris.

  Each of Chris’s horses had a stall and a half, a real luxury. His barn was immaculate with sheets neatly hung on the stall doors and beautiful leather halters with shiny nameplates.

  “This is him,” Chris said. “Arkos.”

  I had to stand close to Chris in order to look in the stall. The horse was a big bay with a thick mane and tail. He noticed us looking and poked his nose through the slats of the door. I put my finger through the slats and touched his nose. He was super friendly.

  Chris reached over me to unlock the stall door and when I turned away from Arkos, it was like he was blocking me against the stall door by accident. I was right in front of him, inches from his face. Before I could move, he leaned forward and kissed me quickly. It was a light kiss, no tongue, a quick peck really, as if it was a sudden impulse, a quick test of our feelings for each other.

  He pulled back. “I, um—”

  I felt like he was about to apologize and that was the last thing I wanted. “It’s okay,” I said. What I should have said was that it was good. All good. Chris Kern had just kissed me. Me—Hannah.

  “What about Nick?” Chris said. “You two—”

  “No,” I rushed to say. “Zoe tried to set me up with him and he thought I liked him but I didn’t. I mean, I don’t. I never did and there’s nothing between us.” I sounded young again and I worried Chris would change his mind about wanting to kiss me.

  “At the restaurant it seemed like—”

  I cut him off. “I know what it seemed like and it’s not.”

  “That’s why I canceled this morning,” he admitted. “Not because of it being grand prix day.”

  “I wondered,” I said.

  It felt like we both were trying to think of what to say to each other. It felt like there was more that needed to be said, but neither of us knew how yet. It was probably good I didn’t say anything more because my mind was going crazy with endorphins. Chris had kissed me! He had kissed me! It was like everything I’d wanted since the very first day of Circuit was coming true.

  Chapter 21

  Chris and I resumed our lessons Sunday morning. I jumped an exercise Chris had set up and I actually rode it well. Logan was going better too. At the end of the lesson, Chris said he’d text me later. Neither one of us mentioned the kiss, but something had clearly changed between us.

  In the ring that day, I had two rails but it was the best eight-fault course I had ever had. Logan was listening to me and we were finding distances to most of the jumps. Chris texted me after the class and I texted back asking if he was going to Backcountry because Zoe wanted me to go with her. He said he’d go if I went and after a few more back-and-forths we had made a plan to go together. He would pick me up.

  At Backcountry, Chris told me more about what it was like riding for Harris. Harris didn’t see the horses like Chris saw them. He didn’t see them as animals and athletes, but as high-powered machines whose parts could be fixed if they broke or who could be replaced all together. He didn’t have a background in horses and didn’t understand that it took a super long time and a lot of patience to bring along a grand prix horse. Chris told me that his best horse, Nova, was hurt because Harris had insisted Chris keep showing him even when Chris was convinced something didn’t feel quite right. Now that horse was out for the year, maybe forever, and Chris was off the European tour because none of his other horses were experienced enough yet. Nova had been his one big international horse.

  “Buddy could be really good. I mean he’s got the scope and the heart, but he’s only seven. He needs another year doing the small grand prix classes and the 1.40 meter classes and taking it slow. I don’t want to push it and ruin him.”

  “That’s why you didn’t do the inside turn?”

  “There were only seven in the jump-off. A slower clean was still going to get a good piece of the action. Maybe at the end of the circuit I’ll push him more than I did, but there was no reason to do that. I was still second for heaven’s sake.”

  Chris drank his beer. Tommy Kinsler came over and chatted with him. Chris introduced me to him and Tommy shook my hand. A few weeks ago I was some nobody and now here I was at a bar with Chris Kern, meeting other grand prix riders. It still blew my mind. And what blew my mind even more was how comfortable I felt with Chris.

  After Tommy left, I asked Chris how he’d come to work for Harris. Chris explained how Harris’s company had sponsored a grand prix in Florida and Harris had become enthralled by the horses. He’d been enticed by the fact that you could be somebody in the sport without riding yourself. And it wasn’t like other sports where you had to be a billionaire to own a professional team and even then, it was nearly impossible to become even a part owner of a team. Racehorses were equally expensive and exclusive. But show jumping was more of an open door. He’d bought one horse for Terry Hyde, the grand prix rider Chris had worked for when he’d started out as a professional. The horse did pretty well, placing in some grand prix classes. Harris got a taste of winning, of being the big shot who showed up to watch his horse. And he wanted more. Terry had other clients and Harris wanted his own trainer. He and Chris became friends and Harris saw Chris’s talent. That was one thing Chris appreciated him for.

  “I thought it’d be perfect. He offered to support me and buy me horses. He said he’d let me choose the horses and basically do all the training. But then the more he watched, the more he thought he knew. What do they say, a little power can be a dangerous thing? Well, now he thinks he knows everything.”

  Chris sipped his beer. “But I’m stuck with him. If I lose the
ride on his horses I’ve got nothing.”

  “Could you teach? You’re so good.”

  “Yeah, I could start my own training barn, but that takes a ton of time and energy, not to mention money, and then what, I have to hope I get some clients who want to buy a grand prix horse? Maybe I put together a syndicate.” Chris looked out over the bar. “I don’t mean to sound lazy. I mean Tommy, Anders, a lot of people have done it that way. But then there are the riders with their own money or their parents’ money and they never have to think about how to afford the horses. I just thought I had such a good thing going. It could take a long while to get back to having the right horses.”

  I had never thought much about who owned the horses in the grand prix classes and how hard it was to find sponsors. Or what it meant to deal with a sponsor. Chris was such a great rider and a great horseman and it was wonderful how much he cared about his horses. That seemed like it should be enough to guarantee someone success, but it wasn’t.

  I saw Zoe come into the room. She had her hair down and was wearing a short skirt and tight top. She looked super pretty, but she also looked like she was on the prowl. I had seen Dermott over at the bar earlier and I hoped that what Zoe said was true—that this time she was really done with him.

  She came over to our table and plopped herself right down on my lap. I smelled alcohol on her breath—she’d been pre-gaming, of course.

  “Hey there, Chiquita banana!” she said.

  “Chiquita banana?” I said.

  She giggled. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. What are you two doing? Just hanging out? Chris, you rocked it yesterday. Second place—nice!”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Zoe moved off my lap into a chair and told us the latest gossip about Eve’s horse that won the grand prix about to be sold to a junior rider. “That’s what you need to win in the juniors these days,” Zoe said. “A grand prix horse.”

  Zoe went to get a drink from the bar. I leaned closer to Chris. “Dermott’s up there.”

  “Oh no,” he said.

  “Yup.”

  Chris sighed. “Zoe, Zoe, Zoe.”

  I watched Zoe take in the sight of Dermott. He was talking with two girls I didn’t know but kind of recognized. Now that I’d been at show for a few weeks there were a lot of people I knew by face, if still not by name. She ordered and I could tell she was pretending not to care about Dermott. When she came back from the bar, she had a drink and Mike with her. “Look who I found!”

  Mike seemed a little uncomfortable as he sat down next to us, but Chris was super nice and introduced himself right away. During the day the line between grooms and riders was clearer; at nights it could get fuzzy. I noticed Zoe inching closer to Mike and holding his gaze longer than usual. Zoe got up to go to the bathroom and when she came back Mike watched her walk all the way to the table with this goofy love-struck look.

  Zoe flirted more with him, at one point challenging him to a contest where you have to make the other person smile. Mike was pretty good at not smiling and the rules were you weren’t supposed to touch each other, but Zoe managed to somehow straddle his chair and get as close as possible to him without touching him before he smiled and she fell into his lap. I got excited watching them, thinking that finally Zoe was liking someone who liked her back and was a good guy. Mike would be nice to her. Mike would take care of her. Mike would be good for her.

  The next time she had to go to the bathroom Zoe dragged me with her. She put on lipstick and told me to borrow hers when I was done.

  “This is so good—you and Mike,” I said, looking at her in the mirror.

  “I know I’m totally flirting with him, right?”

  “He’s so into you.”

  Zoe gave me a dismissive wave. “Whatever. I’m just trying to make Dermott jealous. I swear he looked over when I fell on to Mike’s lap. Did you see him? Was he looking at me?”

  I put the lipstick cap on, feeling sick to my stomach. “You’re just pretending?”

  Zoe put her hands on her hips. “I told you I’d never be interested in Mike. He’s a groom.”

  I thought of the way Mike was looking at her. “You can’t do that to him. That’s so cruel.”

  Zoe made a face. “He’s a big boy. He’ll live.” She pressed her lips together and I gave her back the lipstick.

  At the table, I couldn’t even look at Mike. He’d been so nice to me. He’d helped me out so many times already. He didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Chris must have noticed that I didn’t seem right because he gave me a concerned look. Zoe said she was going to get another drink. Mike offered to get it for her, but Zoe insisted she go. At the bar, she elbowed her way in next to Dermott to order. Her drink came and she stayed there, talking to him. He seemed interested in her now—her gross plan must have worked.

  Mike saw them too and his face drained of color. I didn’t know what to say to him. Should I have been telling him she’d never been interested in him? That seemed cruel too. Finally, when she still hadn’t come back, I said, “I don’t know why she has a weakness for that guy. He’s so awful.”

  Mike’s face looked pained. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  “Mike—” I said as he stood up. “Wait—” But what else was there to say or do?

  Dermott now had his hand across Zoe’s back, like they were a couple.

  “She doesn’t know what’s good for her,” I said.

  Mike nodded. “Yeah, I know. But I can’t stay and watch that . . .” He gave her one more look and turned to leave.

  “I think I want to go too,” I said to Chris a few moments later. Zoe and Dermott were nearly intertwined and it was clear where this was heading. Again. “I can’t believe she could be so stupid. She’s not really doing this again, is she?”

  “I know,” Chris said. “She’s not in good shape. She’s one of those rider orphans who’s so messed up.”

  “Rider orphan?”

  “Raised on the circuit by trainers. Her parents don’t care about her. I feel sorry for her.”

  “Well, I feel pissed at her. She said in the bathroom she was just using Mike to make Dermott jealous.”

  “Let’s go.” Chris stood up and I followed him.

  In the car, I went on a tirade of how mad I was at Zoe and how horrible she was for doing that to sweet Mike.

  Chris said, “Mike’ll be okay.”

  We parked outside of my condo.

  “But it’s just not fair. It’s not fair to Mike, and Dermott should be gelded or something. And Zoe should just know better. And Harris should realize what a great rider you are and that he can’t afford to lose you.”

  I banged my fist on my thigh. It was like letting my anger out at Zoe made all my feelings come rushing out. Chris smiled at me. “Easy, easy. You’re freaking out here.” He placed his hand on mine on my thigh, making me realize that it wasn’t just all those feelings about Zoe and Mike and Dermott that were bubbling over, but how I felt about Chris. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t ever wanted anyone before. He must have sensed it because the next thing I knew we were kissing madly. Not lightly kissing but pressing our faces and our mouths together, full of feelings we’d kept inside. We went on like that for minutes, making out with a fierce intensity. Finally, tired, red-faced, lips nearly sore, we pulled apart.

  “Well,” Chris said.

  “Yeah,” I replied. It was a relief to kiss him like that. To let my pent-up feelings for him out. Apparently he’d been holding them in too.

  “I think we steamed up the windows.” Chris wiped away the fog with his hand.

  “That was—” I began.

  “Good,” he said. “Very good and very overdue.”

  Chapter 22

  Chris didn’t come in that night. I didn’t know if Cheryl was there, not that she would have cared if I brought Chris inside (it might have set off a wildfire of horse show gossip), but I didn’t offer and he didn’t ask. It seemed like we were both okay taking
things a little slowly as we tried to figure out what our feelings about each other meant. I couldn’t help but think how Chris was a grand prix rider whose life revolved around the show circuit and I was just here for a few more weeks before heading to college. Zoe would have said not to think about the future, but that wasn’t like me. I didn’t tell her about Chris because I felt funny about it. For one thing, we didn’t know what “it” was that was going on between us, and what if he didn’t want me to tell her?

  Monday was super hot and humid, up into the nineties, and Zoe got a group together to go to the quarry. Hundreds of years ago, Weathersville became home to the country’s first marble quarry. As demand for the marble grew, several other quarries were built in the area. Now defunct, the leftover quarries were still stunning with their huge, gleaming slabs of marble. There were hidden quarries that you had to walk on old, overgrown mining trails to get to, but the quarry Zoe meant was off one of the main roads.

  She must have invited Chris because he pulled in a few minutes after Zoe, Jed, and I did. I wondered if he’d come mainly because of me, or if that was hoping for too much. Maybe he and Zoe hung out on off-days?

  Zoe wore a tiny, orange string bikini and she looked amazing in it. I had a bikini on too, but mine wasn’t as skimpy. Still, I felt Chris’s eyes on me when I pulled my shirt over my head.

  All of us had terrible farmer’s tans, even Zoe. It was as if we had white polo shirts painted on and white socks that ran all the way up to our upper thighs. We stuck out among all the local kids who spent more than one day all summer in a bathing suit.

  Chris had a farmer’s tan too, but it didn’t make him any less gorgeous. His chest was totally drool-inducing. He had a six-pack and strong, muscular upper arms. I wondered whether he worked out in addition to riding. Probably.

  Chris suggested we jump from the rocks high up in the quarry. He assured us it was plenty deep. We had seen a few other kids do it. It wasn’t crazy high, but it was higher than a regular town pool diving board. Zoe didn’t want to. She shimmied into the water from the low marble slabs instead. It was me who followed Chris and jumped off after him without even second-guessing it. It wasn’t Zoe, who rode in the junior jumpers, slept with foreign men who were good in bed, and wore the orange bikini. It was me, and that surprised and thrilled me. I seemed to keep finding out things about myself that I had never known before.