I hang out with Star the rest of the day, cleaning up his manure and letting him graze in the pasture. Last Saturday night, I went to dinner with Alex at the Cracker Barrel, and we had a good time, but nothing much happened between us. When he drove me home, he gave me a quick peck on the lips. Later tonight we’re going to a movie and I hope this’ll be the night we kiss for real. I don’t mind that we’re taking it slow, but I’m kind of aching for some passion.
Leaning over the fence, I watch Star chase a filly, teasing her, and then he gets ornery and squeals when a yearling colt tries to play with him. I laugh, and Star rewards me by nuzzling my face and hands.
Watching the horses run into the orangey-pink sunset, I totally lose track of time—I need to take a shower soon to get ready for my date, and that’s when I hear footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder to find Jack dressed in his comfy clothes—sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee.
“It’s late. We should put Star and the others back in their stalls.”
“Am I gonna get to ride Star in the Dixiana Derby next week?” I ask.
Jack sniffles, watching Star roll around in the grass grunting. “We’ll have to see what conditions are like that day.”
What he means is he has to see what his father says. How ridiculous.
“Why are you home?” My eyes trail over his sweats. “It’s Saturday night.”
He folds his hands together on top of the fence and studies the horses. “There’s nobody I want to go out with.”
“Not even Colton or Vanessa or Kelsey?”
“Don’t feel like it.” He looks at me sideways, giving me a sad smile.
That’s when Star jogs back over to me. He makes a deep snorting sound and pauses a few feet away. I cluck my tongue. The horse turns his focus from me to Jack then slowly walks forward, squeezing between us. Star nuzzles against Jack’s cheek and nips at his hair.
Jack scratches the colt’s face. “Aw, thanks, buddy.”
Bright stars poke through the lovely pink-orange sunset as Jack and I stand together, petting the horse. I wish he could show the same courage that Star just did. Will Jack ever shove aside the things that scare him?
After we lead Star to his stall, passing farmhands along the way, Jack walks me back to Hillcrest.
“Can we talk later?” he asks quietly. “We could meet out by the lake?”
I shake my head. “I can’t.” I won’t. I won’t get into another situation where we might hook up, no matter how much I want it.
“Please?” he asks softly. “Just as friends?”
“Jack,” I say in a tiny voice. “Don’t…I told you, I can’t. I have plans.”
“I need to talk to you about something…I need you, as a friend, you know?”
How could this end well?
“I got you something.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a weathered, tiny box, and hands it to me. I don’t want gifts. I want to race his horse, I want him to support me in front of his father, I want him to man up.
He nods at the white box. With shaky hands, I carefully open it to discover a silver chain with two charms: a horse and a horseshoe. The chain is kind of rusted, but it’s delicate and pretty. No guy has ever given me jewelry before. I look up into his eyes, searching.
“It belonged to my great-grandmother,” Jack says quietly. “She had red hair and loved horses. Just like you.”
My lips tremble as I stare at the bracelet. “I can’t take this.”
Jack frees it from the box and loops it around my wrist, fastening it. “But it’s perfect for you…and it matches the necklace your mom gave you. Please keep it.”
Mom told me to study history so I could learn from it. Well, everything in my history says that Jack is a player, that he only wants me in secret, that he never actually dates girls, but now he goes and gives me something that belonged to his great-grandmother? It’s like he’s linking our histories together.
I could see a guy giving an expensive, new piece of jewelry to a girl he wants to entice into bed, but not a family heirloom.
“It’s beautiful…”
“You know how important family is to me, right?” he asks. I nod, wiping my nose. “Then you understand what this bracelet means to me.”
I brush a tear out of my eye, not knowing what to say.
He peeks up at me under his eyelashes. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I admit, touching the bracelet. “But I need more…”
“I’m working on it.”
On Sunday evening, Rory asks me to dinner at Tennessee Ballers.
As soon as we sit down at our table, he pushes his new scene under my nose. This screenplay is about CIA agents—a guy and girl—who are partners fighting for the same promotion, but they’re also secretly in love with each other.
“Will you read my query letter again too?” Rory asks, shuffling through his papers. He’s looking for an agent to sell his screenplays to Hollywood. “I want to send it out tonight.”
“Yeah, after I finish reading this scene.”
“So I take it you like it then?”
“It’s full of gratuitous sex,” I say. “I hate it but I can’t look away.”
Rory laughs softly and pushes the rice around on his plate. Strange. He usually inhales his food.
“How was the date with my cousin last night?” Rory asks.
“Great,” I say, smiling. We ended up parking after the movie and we made out for a little while. He’s a good kisser. “I like him.”
“I’m glad,” Rory says. “I’m not as close with him as my brother is, but Will said it’s a good thing he’s getting out. He had a bad breakup a couple months ago.”
“Oh really? He didn’t mention it…” I worry on my lip. Last night was great. He paid for the tickets and we shared popcorn and laughed at the same parts in the movie. But it’s not like we’re close yet. I haven’t told Alex about any of my hopes and fears or how scared I am for my family now that a little sister is on the way.
“What happens if you never sell a screenplay?” I ask Rory, thinking of my future as a horse jockey.
“I’ll keep trying. I hope I will anyway.”
He wraps straw paper around his finger, peeking up at me. It’s easy to tell when something’s nagging him.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask.
“Um, my father has to declare bankruptcy.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. The farm’s financial problems are that shitty?
Rory rips the straw paper in two. “And we have to move. I guess Dad is gonna try to sell our animals. He hopes the Goodwins will buy our land.” Rory swipes at his eyes and pinches his nose.
“What is your dad gonna do?” I ask with a wobbly voice.
“Mom can get a job as a teacher, we hope, and Dad is gonna try to get on down at the co-op. He knows people there. But it’s like, most of the jobs don’t pay well.”
“It’s a good thing Will went to college instead of staying home to take over the farm,” I whisper, and Rory nods.
“This is all the more reason for me to go,” Rory says. “My dad doesn’t have a degree, so he doesn’t have many job opportunities, not like my mom does. I mean, Mr. Goodwin would probably hire my dad but it would embarrass him bad…”
I grasp his hand. “I’m here for you. It’ll be okay.”
He nods with a sad smile.
“Now let me see that query letter.”
Later that night, I’m still thinking about what would happen if someone else in my family got sick and I had no money to help them to get better. Before Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, we didn’t have health insurance.
I’ve been basing everything on working as an exercise rider or a jockey. I thought this was the ticket to finding a better life. But what if the opportunity to be one dries up? I fell off Star after he got spooked by those raccoons, even though I was being safe as can be. The Goodwins wouldn’t let me race at Keeneland. I love riding horses, but even horsemen don’t bet all their money on one race.
I find that out firsthand when I eavesdrop on Cindy telling Dad, Paula, and Yvonne what she overheard while serving dinner to the Goodwins.
“Mr. Goodwin told the family that Mr. Winchester didn’t accept his initial bid on Paradise Park, and if he wants to stay in the running, he’s gonna have to come up with another million dollars.”
A million dollars!
“Was it because of Master Jack not liking George Winchester’s daughter?” Yvonne asks.
“No,” Cindy replies. “Someone else bid more money apparently.”
Then why did Mr. Winchester blabber on and on about honor and family? It all came down to money?
I wrap my arms around myself, hating that Jack gave up what we had to help his father. Hearing that the Paradise Park deal is all about cold, hard cash makes me feel cold and hard all over. Mr. Whitfield thought he didn’t have to go to college because his farm had existed for over a hundred years. What if, in forty years, I’m dirt poor and living in a shack because I put all my chips in horseracing?
Monday morning, Jack isn’t in first period Life Lessons—he must’ve decided to skip, but I see him in the hallway after. He’s standing with Kelsey Painter, talking quietly to her. She’s rubbing his elbow and he seems upset. When he glances up and sees me, he turns and goes the other way. Kelsey gives me a questioning look, as if she’s trying to figure me out. That’s when she walks up.
“Is he okay?” I ask, staring past her.
She clutches her books against her chest. “You really care about him, huh?”
“I did.” I still do, but I’m not gonna admit that to her.
“That sucks,” she says. She doesn’t sound bitchy or anything; she sounds sad. Is she in Rory’s drama class or something? Because she’s a good actress.
“He really likes you,” Kelsey says.
“Did he tell you that?”
“No…he’s my friend…I can just tell. You should give him another chance.” She looks down the hallway toward where Jack just disappeared. “If I could go back in time, I’d fight harder to keep someone who was important to me—”
She suddenly turns and walks down the hall, meeting up with Colton and Vanessa before heading into English class. What was that all about? Am I supposed to feel sorry for the most popular girl at school? It’s crazy that she feels insecure at her level.
I decide to skip second period and go to the guidance counselor’s office. I swallow as I push open the door, walk up to the assistant, and ask to see Miss Brady about college options. I take a seat and doodle pictures of horses and horseshoes in my notebook as I wait.
Twenty minutes later, she invites me into her office. Along with the inspirational posters, she has loads of pictures of cats wearing clothes…?
I shudder, not sure what freaks me out more: CONFIDENCE or a kitten wearing a plaid beret and matching vest.
“Savannah Barrow?” she says, opening a file folder as she sits down behind her desk. I take the seat in front of her and grasp my knees.