Life on the Level (12 page)

Vic from Iowa shows us the scars he got from burning himself on purpose, and waking up to an accidental fire that killed his dog. The dog is what really gets people to say
awww
.

I don’t see him until the end of the session, when Ransom is giving a pep talk that’s better suited for Friday Night Lights. Hutch is leaning against the wall. Has he been there this whole time? Did he hear everything I said?

Before I can go to him, Ransom beats me to it. Hutch gives me one last glance as they exit the room.

I wake up to Maddie standing over my bed.

I instinctively slap her away. “What the fuck?”

“Ow!” She dramatically holds her hand over her eyes, like I just bludgeoned her. “Is that the thanks I get for checking in on you?”

My head pulses. How can I feel hungover when it’s been almost three weeks since my last drink? I blame it on the jogging and general physical exertion.

“You told me to wake you up for horsies.” She says “horsies” the way a five-year-old might say it
.

She’s slicked her hair back and painted two stripes of pink on her cheeks. Is that an attempt at blush? I sit up on my bed and make a face at the terrible taste in my mouth.

“I’ll be right down,” I mutter.

“You are seriously not a morning person. I’m totally a morning person. I’m pretty sure I was born in the morning, too.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I was born at midnight.”

She makes a face. I wonder if she’s gone back to the barn since the last time I saw her there. I’m sure she has, but she hasn’t showed any signs of using. Maybe she’s getting a cut from Taylor just for being there. “Midnight in hell, apparently.”

“I said I’d be right down, okay?”

“See if I ever play at being an alarm clock for you ever again.”

I haven’t been a morning person my whole life. My daddy used to tell me that I would sleep through the day, and as soon as the sun set, I’d be ready to play. He worked most nights as a bartender, or played the tables, and eventually he just took me with him.

Horseback riding has been a secret dream of mine since I was a little girl. It’s taken me a while to warm up to actually doing it though, because up close, horses are terrifying. They’re massive, powerful creatures that somehow manage to be gentle at the same time. I like to walk near the stable and brush them. Jillian Montoya runs the stables. All the patients are assigned shifts to water and feed the horses. My favorite is a white one with golden brown splotches on his sides. Jillian calls him a paint horse. His name is Apollo, and today I’m going to ride him.

Because I’m the least prepared out of everyone here apparently, Helen volunteered to buy me a pair of cowboy boots. I told her to put it on my tab, but she didn’t exactly find it funny.

In my jeans, boots, and long-sleeved plaid shirt, I feel a little bit awkward. It’s like I’m wearing someone else’s life. Sure, I’ve gotten used to the routine, and I’m getting better at the talking thing, but something is off. It’s like I’m a stranger to myself.

I smile like an idiot when I see Hutch in his cowboy hat and boots. We haven’t spoken since we kissed, and then I hit him, and then he heard that story I told. He’s certainly been making himself scarce. He hasn’t even slept at the facility since the kiss happened. It’s like he’s getting ready to break up with me, and we’re not even together. But if anyone is going to break up with anyone, I’m going to break up with him. He can’t just kiss me and say nice things to me and save my life and then act like it doesn’t mean anything.

“Morning,” he says, while brushing his horse. Her name is Elphaba, and she’s pitch black from head to toe.

“Hey.”

“Hay is for horses,” he says.

He’s such a sexy goof, and I love it. I roll my eyes at him, but feel a twinge in my heart from this small, playful exchange. I gather around Jillian with Maddie and some of the other patients.

I feel like I’m the only one that looks nervous. For the past week I’ve been allowed to feed, water, and brush Apollo. It’s a show of good faith, building a connection—more hippie stuff. The worst part was getting used to the smell. The second worst part was waking up early enough to do it. Jillian is up at five a.m. and somehow manages to look peppy and bright five hours later. I envy her dark-circle-free eyes.

She claps her hands and smiles. She’s on an exchange program with some equine group from Spain, and I’m pretty sure she was born riding a horse, the way she does it.

“Okay everybody. Today is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Some of you have ridden before, but for some of you it is your first time. No matter what, it is important that you stay calm. Horses are very sensitive to their riders. Trust your horse, and your horse will trust you, my father always said. Christopher is going to help you with the saddles. Take deep breaths if you’re nervous.”

“Of the horses, or of Hutch?” Maddie asks.

Jillian chuckles, and Hutch just shakes his head.

We get helmets and gloves. My gloves are a little big, but it’s all they’ve got. Hutch throws saddle pads, then the leather saddle on Apollo’s back. Suddenly, the horse seems too tall, too big. My heart starts to race, and I don’t know if it’s my nervousness about riding or that Hutch is standing so close.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I blurt out.

He looks over his shoulder. I’m the last one—again—and no one heard me over the horses neighing and stomping their hooves.

“We can’t do this now,” he says.

I’m hot with anger. I still have to hold onto his shoulder as he helps me onto my horse. Once I’m up there, I sway.

“Whoa,” I say, as Apollo moves a few paces back and forth.

“River,” Hutch says in his calming way. “He’s just getting used to your weight.”

“All hundred pounds,” Maddie mutters, already mounted and trotting to my side. It only makes Apollo skittish.

“Hundred and thirty,” I correct, gathering my reins.

“Whatever,” Maddie mutters.

Jillian whistles to grab our attention. She rides up and down our line, inspecting every one of us, even Hutch. He looks like he’s been pulled out of a John Wayne movie, in his denim shirt with pearl buttons. His jeans do something fantastic to his thighs.

Turn around, I tell myself.

“Chris,” Jillian says. “You take the rear, yes?”

Hutch tips his hat. I’m the only one who thinks this is hilarious. But then, I’m the only one who freezes up. I can feel my whole body hunching forward. Every step sends a pain up my tailbone. How do guys ride these things without crushing their balls?

“You’re not riding a tiger,” Maddie says, turning around in her saddle. “Relax.”

Easy for her to say. This isn’t her first time. I watch the way they all do it. They don’t bounce, but move with the horses. They also dig their heels into the horses’ sides. I’m not exactly a member of PETA, but I feel bad about kicking Apollo. He seems to be enjoying lagging behind and snatching up the leaves along our path.

Hooves sound behind me. “You’ve got to pull on the reins. Don’t let him eat. It’ll spoil him.”

I pout my bottom lip and brush Apollo’s mane with my fingers. “Maybe I didn’t feed him enough before.”

“Or maybe people say ‘hungry as a horse’ for a reason.”

Hutch holds his reins with one hand and lays the other one on his knee. He looks like he was born on a horse, too. I wonder how long it would take for me to be that comfortable riding. I sigh, and do as Hutch tells me. I squeeze my legs, and suddenly Apollo starts walking forward on his own.

“They’re used to following each other, but they don’t have the best attention spans. Like people.”

“Says you,” I tell him.

“Oh, you don’t have a short attention span?”

“Maybe I do, but I don’t generally like to follow anyone.”

He nods in silent agreement.

“How come I don’t have a cowboy hat?”

He smiles, and rides beside me instead of behind. Even though things are inexplicably weird, I don’t mind. I feel calmer just talking to him.

“Because if you fall, you’re going to need the helmet.”

“And here I was doing such a good job of staying calm.”

“It’s funny,” he says, “that you’re so nervous.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

All I see is a huge smile, and the blush on his face before he tilts his hat forward. “You just make a mighty fine cowgirl, is all.”

I take a deep breath and shut my eyes at the memory of me straddling him. He’s so big that when he stretched out he took up almost his whole bed. I’ve been surviving off that memory like a super model on a single slice of toast. My skin tingles as I remember moving with him, back and forth and back and forth. Is he thinking about it too?

“You don’t get to flirt with me after ignoring me for a week.” I hate that it takes his smile away, but it needs to be said.

“I know, River. I’m all turned around. So let’s talk about it.”

“Now?”

Except we can’t. Up ahead, Jillian whistles. There’s a truck driving by. The old man waves at us as he drives up ahead to the road. I realize it’s the first car I’ve seen in days outside of our parking lot. Growing up in the city, cars and sirens were just part of the ambiance. I never thought I could get used to a place without that kind of noise. I wonder, when did the shift happen?

“Are you guys ready to try trotting?”

I shake my head. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

Apollo walks in a circle as I pull his reins too hard to one side. Hutch catches up with me.

“Easy,” he says. “Don’t psych yourself out.”

I take a deep breath. “No, I’ll leave that to you.”

“Funny,” he mumbles. “Here, I’ll go ahead. Shorten your reins and give him a kick. Not too hard, but just enough.”

“That means nothing to me,” I say.

Still, I do what he says. I squeal and make all kinds of scaredy-cat noises as Apollo trots behind everyone else. I can’t remember if I’m supposed to squeeze my thighs or not. Either way, this is going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow morning.

Hutch makes a clicking noise with his tongue and kicks the sides of his horse. There’s a challenge in his smile. He canters beside me. His body moves
with
the horse, not against her. Meanwhile, I feel more and more like a turtle. If I could retreat my head into my body, I would. I’m so tense, and I don’t know how to let go. The further we go, the better everyone gets—except for me. I bring my horse to a stop. He stomps around and makes a noise that sounds a lot like a laugh.

Hutch pulls on his reins and comes to a stop beside me. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel right. I always thought I’d be a natural, you know? But I think I’m starting to realize that I’m not really good at anything other than poker. What am I supposed to do when I leave here?”

“River—”

“Don’t River me, Hutch. Let me freak out, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll freak out with you.”

He lets me ride ahead. The others have stopped trotting and now race. Apollo makes a raspberry sound, and I fear even my own horse is laughing at me.

“Is it weird that I felt more at ease stealing my dad’s car when I was fifteen than this?”

“That’s a hunk of metal,” he says. “This is another living thing. Riding requires more trust.”

Hutch leads my horse with his. They walk side by side. As the trees fall away, and we come onto an open field that goes on as far as I can see, I commit this moment to memory.

“When I was a kid we lived up at Flathead Lake,” he tells me, “we lived near a stable. I’d ride my bike five miles to go look at the horses. My dad didn’t send any money and my mom drank up whatever we had. One of the stable hands would see me standing there with my bike, staring. One day he called me over and put me to work.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen. The first horse I ever rode threw me right off. Damn thing was skittish as hell, but he was my favorite.”

I laugh, trying to picture what Hutch would have looked like as a kid. “At least my dad’s Chevy never threw me off its back.”

“See, you’ve already got one up on me.”

Out of nowhere, I realize we’re going faster. I swallow a gulp of air and relax my back. I feel more confident, so I kick Apollo. He picks up speed. I let out an excited yelp.

“Atta girl,” Hutch shouts behind me.

I don’t look back as we race across the green grass. There isn’t quite a feeling like this. The wind beats against my face. The sun shines, peeking from behind clouds that resemble mountains. The other patients ride freely, zigzagging back and forth in the clearing up ahead. There’s still too much space. So much so that I can feel like I’m riding all by myself.

After a while, I pull on the reins. Apollo comes to a halt in front of a leafy bush and starts chomping away. I rub his neck, and pull at bits of hay stuck in his mane.

“I did it, Apollo,” I tell him.

While Apollo eats, I get to watch Hutch ride. His shirt’s come undone a few buttons, so it blows open to reveal the glory of his chest hair. I never used to like chest hair, but on Hutch, I got used to it in seconds. He snaps the reins. The black horse zooms across the field with him, the mountains and sky their backdrop. His hat flies right off his head. Even as far away as he is, he looks up to where I’m resting, like he knows I’ve been watching him all along. Like he was showing off just for me.

I wonder, how different would my life be in a place like this? Is that all it takes to change the way you live? Pick up and move somewhere new. Put on new clothes. Be a different person. I wonder.

As we ride back, I fall somewhere in the middle of the line. This time Hutch takes the lead, and Jillian takes the rear. I feel myself getting tired and hungry. How do people eat granola bars like it’s satisfying to munch on something that leaves the roof of your mouth raw?

When we get back to the stables, Jillian and Hutch help us get down. I wait my turn, intending to help put the saddles away because I want to be able to do this again.

Taylor comes out of the stable. His shirt is drenched in sweat.

“Need some help?” he asks.

“I’m good.”

“If you’d rather wait for Hutch, just say so,” he says, smirking.