Wendy takes the warm weather as an opportunity to convince me to ride a horse. So that’s how I find myself at the Lazy Dog Ranch sitting on the back of a black-and-white mare named Sassy. Wendy says Sassy’s a good horse to learn on because she’s about thirty years old and doesn’t have much fight left in her. That’s fine by me, although I instantly feel comfortable in the saddle, like I’ve been riding all my life.
“You’re doing really well,” says Wendy, watching me from the fence as I ride the horse slowly around the edge of the pasture. “You’re a natural horsewoman.”
Sassy’s ears perk up. In the distance I see two men on horseback, galloping toward the big red barn at the end of the pasture. The sound of them laughing floats toward us across the field.
“That’s Dad and Tucker,” says Wendy. “Dinner will be ready soon. Better bring Sassy in.”
I give Sassy a gentle kick and she starts toward the barn.
“Hey there!” greets Mr. Avery as we approach. “Looking good.”
“Thanks. I’m Clara.”
“I know,” says Mr. Avery. He looks so much like Tucker. “Wendy’s been talking about you nonstop for months now.” He grins, which makes him look even more like Tucker.
“Dad,” mutters Wendy. She walks up to her dad’s horse and rubs it under the chin.
“Oh lord,” laughs Tucker. “She’s got you on old Sassy.”
I promised myself that I was going to cool it around Tucker today for Wendy’s sake, no matter what he throws at me. No rude remarks. No comebacks. I’m going to be on my best behavior.
“I like her.” I lean forward and stroke Sassy’s neck.
“She’s the horse we put little kids on.”
“Tucker, shut up,” says Wendy.
“But it’s true. That horse hasn’t moved faster than a snail in about five years, I think. Sitting on her is practically like sitting in a chair.”
Well, we’ll show him.
“Good girl,” I say to Sassy, very softly in Angelic. Her ears whip around to listen to my voice. “Let’s run,” I whisper.
I’m surprised by how quickly she obeys. In seconds we’re in a full gallop, whipping across the far side of the pasture. For a moment the world slows down. The mountains in the background glow a peachy gold, lit by the setting sun. I savor the cool spring air caressing my skin, the strong, dusty feel of the horse under me, her legs stretching out like she’s pulling the earth underneath us as she runs, the in-and-out huff of her hay-scented breath. It’s wonderful.
Then a gust of wind blows my hair across my face and for one panicky moment I can’t see, and everything is going much too fast. I picture myself being thrown off and landing face-first in a pile of manure, Tucker falling all over himself laughing. I toss my head wildly, and my hair is suddenly out of my eyes. My breath catches. The fence is rushing toward us, and Sassy shows no sign of slowing down.
“Can you jump it?” I ask, still whispering. She is, after all, a pretty old horse.
I feel her gather under me. I say a little prayer and lean over her neck. Then we’re in the air, barely clearing the fence. We come down so hard my teeth clatter together. I turn the horse toward the barn, pulling back on the reins a bit to slow her. We trot up to Tucker, Wendy, and Mr. Avery, who are all staring at me with their mouths hanging open.
So much for being on my best behavior.
“Whoa,” I say, and pull up the reins until Sassy stops.
“Holy smokes!” Wendy gasps. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” I force a laugh. “I think it was mostly the horse’s idea.”
“That was amazing!”
“I guess she still has a bit of sass in her after all.” I glance triumphantly at Tucker. For once he’s speechless.
“That was sure something,” says Mr. Avery. “I didn’t know the old girl had it in her.”
“How long have you been riding?” asks Tucker.
“This is her first time, isn’t that amazing?” says Wendy. “She’s a natural.”
“Right,” Tucker said, meeting my gaze steadily. “A natural.”
“So, have you asked Jason Lovett to prom yet?” I ask Wendy as we’re brushing down Sassy in the barn a few minutes later.
She’s immediately the color of a beet. “It’s prom,” she says with forced lightness. “He’s supposed to ask me, right?”
“Everyone knows he’s the shy type. He’s probably intimidated by your stunning beauty. So you should ask him.”
“But maybe he has a girlfriend back in California.”
“Long-distance relationship. Doomed. Anyway, you don’t know that for sure. Ask him. Then you’ll find out.”
“I don’t know—”
“Wen, come on. He likes you. He stares at you all through English. And I know you’ve got the hots for him, too. What is it with you and Californians, anyway?”
It’s quiet for a minute, the only sound the steady breathing of the horse.
“So what’s going on with you and my brother?” asks Wendy. Completely out of the blue.
“Your brother? What do you mean, ‘going on’?”
“It seems like there’s something going on there.”
“You’re joking, right? We just like to mess with each other, you know that.”
“But you like him, don’t you?”
My mouth falls open. “No, I—” I stop myself.
“You like Christian Prescott,” she finishes for me, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah, I could tell. But he’s like a god. You worship the gods but you don’t go out with them. You only like guys like that from a distance.”
I don’t know what to say. “Wendy—”
“Look, I’m not pushing you on my brother. It kind of gives me the creeps, truthfully, my best friend dating my brother. But I wanted to tell you, in case you were interested, that it’d be okay. I could get over it. If you wanted to go out with him—”
“But Tucker doesn’t even like me,” I sputter.
“He likes you.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“In grade school, didn’t you ever have a boy punch you on the arm?”
“Tucker’s a junior in high school.”
“He’s still in grade school, trust me,” she says.
I stare at her. “So you’re saying Tucker’s such a jackass because he likes me?”