Choice

by Kennedy, Allison J.

  I smiled slightly. “Can your parents help you?”

  He sat up straight. “My parents passed away in a car accident two years ago. I know what my dad would say though: ‘Just dive in and do it, Alex. That’s the only way you’ll learn.’”

  Does he have any family at all? I wondered. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents. That’s really horrible.” I hoped my lack of inflection didn’t make me come off as disinterested; I just had no idea what to say, and I still wanted to be alone.

  “Thanks. It’s been tough, but I’ve managed. Jack was actually my dad’s horse, so I feel like I still have a small piece of him.”

  “He’s beautiful,” I said honestly. I began working shampoo through Cash’s tail. “Thoroughbred?”

  “Appendix,” he said, patting the gelding’s neck. “Sire was Quarter; dam was Thoroughbred.”

  I nodded. “Well, have a good ride.”

  “Will do,” he grinned. “See you around, May.”

  I watched him ride toward the arena, sitting atop his horse as if it were the most natural thing in the world. With a sigh, I returned to the task at hand and rinsed Cash’s coat clean to begin braiding.

  Nine

  AN HOUR LATER, Cash was groomed. I sprayed him down with a coat polisher before walking him over to a patch of grass to graze. Sitting down, I dropped his lead rope and let him wander while I watched Grace and Alex work their horses. I had never seen anyone so comfortable on a horse bareback as the guy I just met. He had a way with it all: subtle cues people couldn’t even see; gentleness and grace. It was almost as if he were whispering to his horse in a way that normal human beings couldn’t. And he smiled sometimes, though most of the time his eyes were focused and serious.

  I wondered why he was so happy after his losses. He wasn’t exactly bubbling over with joy, but he had a peace about him that I couldn’t place. It had me mesmerized, wanting to have a fraction of it. I wanted even a moment of peace.

  I pressed my lips together as tears brimmed in my eyes. Looking down at my lap, the droplets fell onto my jeans and left little dark stains. I felt so lost. Nothing in the entire world made sense. Even my own tears seemed out of place. Shouldn’t I have been angry instead? Maybe I was angry. Maybe I was hollow. I felt as though something irreplaceable had been stolen from me, and I didn’t even know who to blame.

  “No matter what, things are stolen when the owner of them makes the mistake of letting their guard down in one way or another,” my mother, the Criminal Defense Lawyer, once said. “You leave your door unlocked. You don’t install an alarm. You trust people you shouldn’t. No matter what, it could have been prevented.”

  Was it the same with rape?

  I couldn’t count the number of times that my mom defended a rapist in court. I was never there to witness it, of course, but she would recount the stories later on. It was never that she was trying to prove them innocent, but she aimed to ensure their sentence was fair. “He’s sick, no doubt,” she told Dad once. “Clearly dealing with damage caused by childhood abuse. That contributes to his actions.”

  Were there excuses to be made for such an evil deed?

  I picked a dandelion and twirled it between my fingertips. I just needed to move on. Nothing could take back what had happened, and I knew I didn’t want to live the rest of my life feeling this way.

  Maybe I could convince my parents to transfer me to the public school system, I contemplated. At least so I wouldn’t have to see him again.

  “Is that your little sister out there?”

  I looked up to see Alex walking beside his horse across the grass. “Yes. That’s Grace.”

  He smiled. “She was watching you over here. I figured that was the case.”

  I looked away and dabbed at my cheeks with the back of my wrist. “Probably wondering why I’m not riding.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  “I’m just not feeling it today,” I shrugged.

  “Mind if I sit with you?”

  Yes. “No.”

  Alex dropped Jack’s lead rope and let him graze. He then sank to the grass beside me and took his baseball cap off to wipe the sweat off his forehead before putting it back in place. “How long have you been riding?”

  I watched Cash’s side twitch when a fly landed on him. “My whole life. You?”

  “Two years or so. After my parents died, I took it upon myself to take care of my dad’s horse.”

  He’s only had two years to learn to ride like that? I thought. “You’re very talented.”

  “Naw,” he grinned, squinting slightly from the sun. “It just makes me happy. Like I said before, it helps me feel close to my dad.”

  “And your mom?” I asked.

  “My mom had this incredible talent for music. I always knew I wanted to study music in college, but after she died, it sorta became my top priority. Sometimes I play some of the songs she wrote.”

  “Guitar?” I asked.

  “Piano,” he grinned, turning his face to look at me. “Thankfully, there’s an old baby grand in the apartment above the bookstore. That’s where I’ll be living.”

  “Sounds like you’re set,” I mused, plucking a few blades of grass. “Are you going to sell the place?”

  He tilted his head for a moment in contemplation. “Not sure yet. I mean, Granddad did alright. He made enough to live on. It’ll be a lot of work and I need to decide if that’s what I want to devote my life to.”

  “You could try it for a few years and see?” I suggested.

  “Yeah. I think that’s the plan. Plus, I’m working on an album. Never know, I might be the next big thing,” he winked. I could tell he was being facetious.

  I laughed. Actually laughed. “Maybe you will.”

  “May, we’re leaving!” Dad called from the parking lot. “Drive safe coming home.”

  “I will,” I called back. I watched them get in the car and leave, and I realized that Alex and I were the only ones left on the property.

  “Your family seems nice,” Alex said.

  I inhaled a deep breath and rubbed my tongue along the split that was still healing on the inside of my lip. I nervously got to my feet. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Alex. See you around?” I offered, retrieving Cash.

  Alex stood up. “You too, May.” He eyed me for a moment, confused. “See you around.”

  I didn’t look back as I brought my horse into the barn. My hands shook while I took his halter off in his stall. I breathed deeply, trying to calm my crackling nerves. I was being ridiculous, and I knew that. But I couldn’t help how acutely aware I was that I was alone with this stranger outside. I jogged to my car, spurs jingling with every step, and left without looking at him.

  * * *

  WHEN I GOT HOME, Mom’s Mercedes was pulling into the garage. I parked behind her and took a steeling breath before stepping out of my Jeep. “Hey, Mom,” I said. She draped her stiletto-heeled legs outside of her car to make her ladylike exit. She stood to her full, statuesque height and acknowledged me with a wave because she was on the phone.

  “I don’t care what his lawyer said, John. That woman is clearly lying!” she huffed, taking her briefcase out of the back of her car. She headed inside, still spouting off to her assistant on the other end.

  I stood in front of my Jeep and rubbed my arms slowly, flinching when she slammed the door.

  “Hey,” a familiar voice said behind me.

  I turned and met eyes with Danika. Her arms were crossed and she was eyeing me grimly. She tapped her foot. “Since you wouldn’t look at me at school, and you wouldn’t answer your phone, I thought I’d come talk this out with you in person.”

  I turned away and started toward the house. “I don’t want to talk about it, Danika.”

  “What is wrong with you?” she shouted, catching up to grab my arm. “Why haven’t you been at school? And what did I do that was so terrible?”

  How could I explain this to her? How could I say I was angry because I was only
at that party for her? That I stayed to make sure she was safe? That she acted like a child and locked herself away so I wasn’t safe? And how did I convince myself that none of this was really her fault? “Dani, I’m just . . . I’m not ready to discuss it, alright? I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

  “Is it because the guys like me and not you?”

  I whirled around in complete shock. “You think that’s why I’m upset? I’m upset because I tried to tell you how beautiful and smart and worth it you are, and you threw it back in my face. I’m upsetbecause while I was being a real friend to you, you were off taking me for granted and refusing to leave with me like you promised, so I had no choice but to stay at that God-forsaken party. I’m upset because as smart as you are, you’re also the most ignorant and selfish person I know!”

  Her eyes watered. “So that’s how you really feel?”

  “That’s how I really feel.”

  She turned and got into her car without saying another word. I watched her drive away, wondering how she could be so blind. How could she have been just a couple rooms away when Tyler raped me, and witnessed how I acted just seconds after, and still not know? I despised her for her selfishness.

  “May? What are you doing?” Dad called from the front porch.

  I realized I had been standing there, staring into space. “Coming,” I sighed.

  Ten

  MOM WAS SITTING at the kitchen bar with a glass of wine and a book in front of her. She looked at me over the rim of her glasses when I walked through the front door. “Hello, May,” she said, extending an arm to gesture me into one of her stiff hugs.

  I complied. She smelled like gardenias. “Hey, Mom.”

  She returned to her book when we parted. “Did you have a good ride?” she asked. Mom was the type who could read, cook, drive, clean, brush her teeth, make her grocery list, do her makeup and judge you . . . all at the same time. I had been quick to learn as a child that I couldn’t glaze over the truth when I thought she wasn’t listening, because it always came back to bite me. She watched me again, her lips forming a straight line. “What’s wrong?”

  I told her a little bit of truth and hoped she would think there was nothing more to it. “Danika and I had a huge fight. I’m just feeling kind of down about it.”

  She assessed me for a moment. “What about?”

  Don’t mention the party, I told myself. She would only ask more questions about it. “What is it always about? Boys.” I tried to laugh but failed. “She’s just selfish and manipulative. I wish she would grow up.”

  “It’s a shame, really,” she said before taking a sip of her wine. “The girl has so much potential—just as much as you. She just doesn’t utilize it.”

  “Yes!” I said, glad she was taking this direction. I went to the fridge to get a bottle of orange juice. “That’s exactly what I was telling her before she blew up at me.”

  “People like her don’t like the truth.”

  I pretended to look for something else in the fridge. “Yeah.”

  She didn’t say anything. I knew I couldn’t stare into the fridge forever, so I closed it and turned around with my orange juice in hand. I brought the juice to my lips in waiting for her to say more, only to hiss when the acidic liquid touched my cut. I almost choked. Would it ever heal?

  She glanced up at me, one brow arched.

  “Wrong pipe,” I lied. We stared at each other for a moment before I turned on my heel and walked around the bar. “I’m going to go shower.”

  “Yes, you do smell like the barn,” she said with a note of disgust.

  I rolled my eyes as I headed for the stairs.

  “And May? I don’t want to hear that you went to another party without helping your sister with her homework first. Are we clear?”

  Luckily, she wasn’t looking at me. If she had been, she would have seen the color drain from my face. “Yes, Mom. I’m sorry.”

  I climbed the stairs as quickly as I could to avoid further interrogation.

  Now

  I STARE AT AN EMPTY CANVAS, brush poised in hand, yet I don’t know what to paint. I haven’t painted in years. Elijah is singing Addison to sleep for her nap in the next room, and I can hear her squealing dramatically now and then. She doesn’t want to go to sleep, as usual. She giggles excitedly, but she sounds tired, as if on the verge of giving in.

  That sound prompts my brush to pick up a smudge of pink. I begin painting laughing lips; her lips. And around those lips, I paint her perfect, chubby, porcelain face.

  I stroke a tiny bit of white over her iris, making it look as if it is reflecting sunlight, just as Elijah’s lips graze my neck. “You’re painting again,” he murmurs happily.

  And he brushes my tears away with his fingertips, kissing every inch of my face as he does so.

  Then

  WHEN MONDAY CAME, I told my parents I had a migraine to get out of going to school. I had been known to have them from time to time, so it wasn’t unusual for me. After my dad analyzed my pupils and temperature in order to satisfy himself that it wasn’t more serious, I was left with a bottle of water and some Excedrin and instructed to stay in bed.

  But I didn’t. As soon as they were gone, I tossed my hair into a ponytail and put on the same pair of dirty jeans I had worn to the stable the day before. I pulled on a black hoodie as I left my bedroom, crossing the hall to knock on Grace’s door. It was already open and she was making her bed.

  “I need a favor,” I told her. She looked at me expectantly, so I continued. “I need you to not tell Mom and Dad that I left the house today. I just need to get out.”

  “I won’t tell,” she promised, soft-spoken as usual. “Where are you going?”

  “Just out.” I was going to the barn, but I didn’t want to tell her that because I wanted to go alone. “I won’t be gone long.”

  She nodded, confirming she understood.

  “You know the drill. Don’t answer the door, keep it locked, and—”

  “I know, May.”

  She knew. She had been staying home alone off and on for a year now. “Right. We’ll work on your studies when I get home. We can do homework together.” I tried to smile and partially succeeded. And when I made my way down the stairs, I realized with a sigh of relief that the soreness in my body was mostly gone.

  * * *

  CASH WAS PARTICULARLY peppy from not being ridden over the weekend. His ears were pointing forward and his neck was outstretched over the top of his stall door when I approached. I loved that he was always happy to see me, treat or no treat. My lips tilted into a semblance of a smile while I slipped his halter over his face.

  A few minutes later, I undid his braids and lugged his saddle out of the tack room to hoist onto his back. The weighty bulk of it settled directly atop the red and white blanket I had placed there first, and I wriggled it into position before reaching under his belly to grab the girth.

  I lifted upward each time I laced the leather strap through the loop, securing the girth into place just enough to keep the saddle on his back during our trek to the arena. He blinked lazily while I brought the bit to his lips, and his teeth parted to let it in. When all was set, I led him out of the barn and into the sunshine.

  This felt good. All of this. Horses had always calmed my spirit, and it was no different now. Of course there was still a nagging sense of disorientation, since I had yet to learn which way was up and which was down since the night of the party. But for now, I felt safe; free to be open. Cash only judged me on my ability to guide his every step and the way I rewarded him in turn. He didn’t know about my inner turmoil, and he didn’t need to in order to comfort me.

  I patted his neck as his head bobbed contentedly. We went into the arena and I closed the gate behind me before tightening his girth the rest of the way. Grabbing the horn and cantle between my hands, I lifted my foot into the stirrup and climbed on, settling into the saddle before finding the other stirrup with the toe of my boot.

  This felt
like coming home. Sighing, I ran my fingers through his wavy mane and watched the way it flowed between them like black silk. “Feels better up here, boy,” I whispered. “Thank you for that.”

  I touched him with my calves and he moved forward at an easy walk as I adjusted the reins in my hands. I felt my hips move, swaying ever so gently with each step he took. The movement was therapeutic, as if undoing the days of stiffness that had accumulated there. We went in a circle, using half of the arena before turning the shape into a figure eight.

  I squeezed him gently with my legs and he transitioned into a trot. His body curved beautifully with each circle; perfectly tuned movements from years of practice. I could feel myself beginning to forget everything except for how to direct the horse beneath me, our minds unifying until we were engaged in a perfect dance.

  Moving my hip forward just enough for him to feel my weight shift, he immediately picked up a three-beat lope that rocked me like a gently swaying boat. As pent up as he was, he was still in tune to my cues, and he listened to them fully. I broadened our circles until we used the entire arena, then shrunk them down again. We repeated this until we crossed directly down the center, and I shifted once more to have him switch leads. His right foot became the leader now as we went clockwise around the rail.

  His mane flowed up and down against my hands and I felt his sides gently heave with each breath he took. Moments like this were magical. They weren’t ordered by a trainer or expected to be the picture of perfection for a show. We were just a masterpiece all our own to a point where we became a single entity.

  Turning abruptly to take flight down the center length of the arena, I urged Cash to let go. And when it was time, I straightened my legs in front of me to give him the signal to put on the brakes. His hind end dropped and we slid to a stop, dirt flying up at our sides. I heard a single round of applause and when I turned my head, I found Alex sitting astride his horse with a beaming grin on his face.

  “Can I just say that was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen?” he proclaimed, jogging his horse toward me.