Page 87 of Entwined

“It does. But she won’t mess with me. People are wise to her shit.”

“It’s about time. I’m going to phone Ben and ask him to go to the ball with me.”

“Good.”

I shower, dress and then walk to campus. It’s chilly but I like it. The walk helps me think. And lately all I can think about is Christos and taking another chance on getting our ending right.

“Morning Jessie. Tack up Simone and I’ll meet you in the ring.”

“Ok!”

“Hey, doll. I have a treat for you!” I reach into my pocket for the peppermint candy that’s Simone’s favorite. She takes it and I start brushing her, then lead her out to the cross ties and finishing putting the saddle and bridle on.

I lead her out to the ring to the mounting block and get on the saddle. She takes off before I can even place my foot in the stirrups.

“Whoa! Simone!” I grab the reins and her mane trying not to fall. She stops then rears up; taking off at a gallop. I can’t hold on. Without stirrups, she’s a bucking rodeo horse.

I fall to the ground. My head barely misses the side of a jump. Crying out in pain, my ankle rolls as I fall.

Sally runs to me, checking that I’m okay, then grabs a lead line as Simone slows to a walk then trots back to me.

“What the hell happened?” I gasp, undoing my boot, hissing as my ankle swells.

Sally calms Simone and checks the girth and saddle. She loosens both then lifts. “This. This is what happened?” In her hand is a burr. A ball, of tiny prickers like the ones I’ve seen along the side of the back path.

“What? How did that get stuck to the bottom of my saddle pad?”

“Good question. When you mounted Simone, the weight of your body made it prick her. She spooked. You’re lucky your fall wasn’t worse. Can you stand?”

“Barely.” I wince as I use the side of the jump to help me rise.

“Stay here. I’ll put Simone back in her stall and get you some ice. You know this was Cressida right?”

I bite my lip. “Who else could it be?”

“I’m going to fetch you some ice and check the security tapes. I have a hidden camera on the tack room. A few things went missing last year. If it was her—she’s gone.”

I don’t respond but rub my injured ankle. Taking my phone from the pocket of my riding pants, I text Christos.

Me:I need to cancel our date tonight.

Christos:No.

Me:I can’t go.

Christos:Why?

Me:I just can’t.

Christos:Are you running again, little bird?

Me:Ha. I can’t run. Literally.

My phone rings in my hand. “Hey.”

“What happened?’

“I had a slight fall.”

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