He he he I left you all in suspense! That was kinda fun (:
This chapter's beginning mostly dialogue and story-telling. Might be a little slow at first, but then something exciting happens! Yay (:
My weekend had been blissful, partially due to Will's incredible gift. But school on Monday was an absolute joke right up until seventh period.
First, Rachel Slocum, for no reason I could see, invited me to some party she was having this coming weekend in Spanish class. I went to math class and took a dreadful test. After leaving history, I was certain I had failed the quiz. I fell asleep in computer class. Jake came to sit by Sam during lunch, which meant that he and Jen bickered the entire hour and gave me a pounding headache. Some idiot boy playing with the striker in the chemistry lab burned my finger, giving me some angry red blisters. My phone went off in English class, which made my teacher quite annoyed.
However, as theatre class came around, the day suddenly turned a lot brighter. A counselor came in to distribute our GPA's and class rankings. When I received the slip of paper, folded in half, I mouthed a little prayer and slowly, almost painfully, opened my results.
I found the numbers I was looking for and gasped audibly, my mouth hanging open. No. Way. Absolutely no way. I wanted to dance for joy, but I couldn't. When the counselor left half an hour later after discussing college with us and such, our teacher decided to let us have a free day. I followed Will, who was motioning to me, out of the little black box theatre where we normally held class and into the actual theatre, onto the stage.
"So?" he asked, seeming a little despaired. I grinned in a silly fashion and gave him the folded paper out of my pocket. He glanced, seemed to do a double-take, and suddenly beamed.
"You're number freaking four?!" he exclaimed. I nodded, speechless, and he lit up. I was ranked four out of the approximately three-hundred sophomores at Darton High. "I can't believe it! And you were worried!" I laughed as he bear-hugged me.
"Who's number four?" a freshman named Niles questioned, one ear bud from his mp3 player dangling freely, one in his ear, blasting music I could hear from a few feet away. Niles and I had sort of become buddies recently, and I smiled at him, and he gasped.
"Nuh-uh!" he exclaimed, grabbing the yellow sheet and letting out a little laugh of disbelief. "High-five me, Lia!" I slapped his hand and he handed me the sheet back. "That's so crazy!"
"What'd you get, Will?" I asked as Niles ran over to his group of friends. He shrugged.
"Nothing special," he replied with a small shrug.
"Come on, I'll bet it's good," I urged. He sighed deeply.
"I'm ninety-four." Disappointment crossed his features, and I instantly felt horrible. Here I was, happy dancing the class away, and Will was almost in triple digits. Of course, he was still in the top third of the class. That definitely counted for something.
"That's not bad at all," I encouraged, but he gave me the are-you-serious? look. I shoved his shoulder playfully. "Snap out of it! You're in the top third of the class. That's perfectly acceptable, and I'm sure it could've been a whole lot worse." He looked at his feet.
"My parents will be mad."
"Why?" I asked, astonished. "What in the world do they expect from you?"
"They're mad because I have a C in math, even though all my other classes are A's and B's. Yes, they'll be mad. They want me to be in the top ten percent, actually, even though they know that's unreasonable."
"It was a D ," I pointed out, and he gave me a half-hearted smile. "Besides, I think you're doing fine." He looked at me, as though trying to make me understand something vitally important.
"My brother was a straight-A student. Every single nine-weeks report card was filled with A's. Every. Single. One. All the way through high school. So then I started high school, and well… to be honest, I'm more interested in working with horses." He plopped down on the floor, sitting cross-legged and resting his chin in his hands. I silently sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around my knees and unsure of what to say.
"They never liked that. I don't understand why, but it's always such a surprise for them when I do something different than my brother does."
"How old's your brother?" I blurted out randomly. Will didn't seem bothered that I'd interrupted his speech.
"Just a year older. But he's always better at me than everything." A little smirk came over his face. "Except anything having to do with horses. That's my only triumph over him." He paused a moment to let his face fall again. "He's got a pretty girlfriend, always gets the girls, super smart, a great tennis player… my grandparents favor him, and I'm not just blowing things out of proportion. They were tennis champions when they were younger, and still play it. They value the same things my parents do, which means my brother… well, he gets lavished upon and I get left out."
"Are you positive about all of that?" I asked dubiously. "I highly doubt your parents favor your brother over you."
"Maybe they don't, but they sure talk more about him than me," he said quietly. "But my grandparents? I'm sure. You should've seen the difference in our Christmas presents." He snorted.
"I'm sorry, that has to be tough. But yeah, grandparents…" I trailed off. He looked at me expectantly.
"What about them?"
"Nothing really; my grandparents don't like me riding. They've tried to convince my parents out of me riding since I started as a four year-old. And then when I had my accident on Eagle… well, they just blew it. They'd always been saying things behind my back, but then they started blowing up in my parents' faces, usually when I was conveniently around to witness." I frowned with dissatisfaction at the memories.
"That's horrible. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. But I mean, I'm still mad at them. They accused my parents of letting me to do something that was going to get me killed, or cause me 'mental distress,' which is what they called my little depressed state. And every time they said that… this is embarrassing, but I'd scream at them, call them bad names, sometimes in front of other family. And that just fueled their fire, of course." I shook my head, chastising myself mentally.
"Hey, I would've been mad, too," Will reassured me gently. I rested my head against his shoulder, yawning and closing my eyes. It felt so right to me, and he didn't protest.
My day just got a thousand times better.
***
Time passed. Valentine's Day approached, and Jake and Sam became sappier than I thought possible. Thank goodness the day of love was on a Sunday this year, because I didn't want to have to spend a school day with Sam getting very sentimental over a nice gift that shy Jake would present her. Actually, to be honest, I didn't want to spend the day at school with everyone giving each other flowers and candy. Between friends it was nice, but between couples… well, it didn't bring back the best of memories.
I didn't realize I was frowning from thinking of the Valentine's Day I'd spent with Vincent and completely out of touch with reality the Friday before the oh-so-special day until someone lightly slapped my shoulder.
"Whoa, what?" I said quickly, looking around. Jen sighed, but smiled afterwards.
"In our own little world, aren't we?" Jen queried. I smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
"Just thinking is all," I said as innocently as I could, pushing my bangs out of my face self-consciously.
"Got someone special on your mind?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows in a way I didn't think was physically possible. I burst into rather obnoxious laughter, and Jen laughed along with me.
"How do you do that?"
"It's one of my special talents," Jen replied with a wave of her hand. "But seriously, do you?"
Yes.
"No." I paused. "You?"
"Well, I did get a date," Jen replied, looking away. "I'm not sure I want to go, though."
"Wait, who asked you?"
"Darrell. One of Jake's friends, and a definite bad boy. A junior." Even as Jen spoke, a little smile crossed her face. "And he's got the nicest smile I've ever seen."
"But he's not your 'type'," I supplied. Jen gave me a cold stare, then her whole look changed and she sighed in defeat. Win.
"No, I suppose not," she said slowly. "But Jake's assured me--annoyingly--that Darrell won't do me any harm. And I don't think he would, but I mean… I do have the honest fear of him breaking the law…"
"On the first date?" I teased. Jen's face showed genuine fear. "I wouldn't worry about it. If Jake says he's okay… well, I think Darrell will be semi-safe."
"And not break the law on the first date?" Jen said lightly. I laughed once again.
"I think that's a safe bet."
Friday passed by, and so did Saturday. However, as the Sunday sun began to dawn, the sun's rays only beginning to peek out from behind the faded curtains, I was awoken with a start.
"Lia, honey, get up," my mom said hurriedly. I rubbed my eyes and groaned.
"Why? Church service isn't until tonight," I muttered, burying my head beneath the covers.
"Lia," my mom said sternly. "Up. Now. Annie's foaling."
"What?!" I screeched. "She's not due for at least three more weeks!" I literally jumped out of bead and slipped on my riding boots as fast as I could. "Did you call the vet?"
"Yes," she reassured me, even though worry lines were etched into her face. I scrambled to find a jacket then darted out the door.
I surprised that there was no wind outside. It made the morning chill a little more bearable. But the foal would still be freezing when it was born in this weather.
This was not good.
Our broodmare, Sagebrush Annie, was an older dapple-gray mare with an amazingly quiet temperament. I'd been anticipating the foal's birth for a while, especially since it was going to be my family's first foal sired by our own stallion and born from our own mare. However, the foal being born this early was not good. It could mean complications.
My dad was already there, watching worriedly over Annie, who was lying on the ground, sweat forming on her neck. I shook my head.
"Dad, I'm getting her blanket off," I whispered.
"Lia, she's in pain," my dad warned. "She might accidentally hurt you." I ignored him and stepped into the stall.
"Hey, pretty Annie," I crooned. She looked up at me, and nickered softly. I couldn't help but smile. "That blanket's a little hot right now, huh? Will you let me get it off?" Annie let her head fall back into the bedding. I sighed. This was going to be difficult. I needed her to stand, but that was going to be impossible without force. I'd have to do without.
"Okay, girl, guess we're gonna do this the hard way." I came around behind her so her legs couldn't kick me, bent over her neck and undid the front strap. One down. I managed to do the two belly straps, although a contraption rippled through her body on the second one, and she nearly hit me with her hoof.
"Lia," my father warned, my mother silent and anxious beside him. Where was the darn vet when you needed him?
"She's okay, dad," I reassured him. Now the tricky part: the back straps, intertwined in her hind legs. But these were the most important.
"Dad, can we make her stand?" I asked. He grabbed a halter and managed to slip it on over her head. Then, he began to tug.
"Up, Annie girl, just for a minute," I pleaded. She grunted, but obeyed her owner. She stood, trembling from what I assumed was pain.
"Good girl," I whispered, quickly undoing the back straps and sliding the blanket off her back. In a sudden convulsion, she collapsed to the ground. I jumped back, straight into my dad's arms, which kept me from falling. I shoved the blanket aside and closed the stall door.
Forty-five minutes passed. Annie's contraptions still came, but no foal was in sight. I was ready to panic when suddenly, the vet appeared behind us.
"Oh, thank goodness," my mom said in a hushed tone. "Dr. Scott, correct?"
"Yes," he said warmly. "Mr. And Mrs. Weston, nice to meet you. Now then, what's this mare's status?" He peered into the stall. I moved out of the way and went to sit on a hay bale, nervously tapping my foot.
"She's had contraptions for the past forty minutes or so, but there's no foal…" my mother said, and I could no longer hear her. I decided I didn't want to be around, worried sick as I was, so I went outside into a haze of buttery sunshine. Our horses weren't turned out yet with all the excitement this morning, I realized, and probably not even fed.
I strode back in to the dim barn and tapped my mom's shoulder. Dr. Scott was watching Annie closely, analyzing her condition.
"Did the horses get fed?" I asked softly.
"Oh, no," my mom replied, slapping her forehead. "Could you do that for me, after you turn them out? Don't forget their water, too." She turned back to the stall. "Oh, and remember: Dorado gets three flakes of hay, not two." I nodded obediently and started haltering Spirit so I could lead her outside to her private paddock. Then I put Dorado and Flash out in the pasture they shared. Next, I went to go put Annie out into her own paddock. Finally, the tricky part: leading our stallion Saint Phillip, outside to his own paddock.
I almost never handled the stallion; that was left to my parents. I felt a weight settle on my shoulders as I went into his stall, at the very back of the stable, as far away from the mares as possible. I haltered him and we left through the small opening on the side of the barn, so he didn't have to walk past Annie or any of the mares at any time.
His paddock was conveniently only twenty feet away from that separate doorway, another safety precaution. He behaved like a gentleman as I turned him loose. Now the feed and water.
The chores were taking me a while for all five horses, and I began to worry obsessively. What was going on in that stall?
"Lia!" I heard my mom call as I was just beginning to water Phillip. I left the hose running in the trough and dashed into the barn, slowing down as my feet hit the concrete floor. My mom smiled, wrapping me in a hug. "Look, everything turned out fine. It's a little filly. Very little, but Dr. Scott thinks she'll be fine." My dad placed a gentle hand between my shoulder blades and guided me to the open entrance of the box stall. I gasped in amazement.
Annie, the slightly swaybacked old dapple gray, looked up at us, shiny with sweat but otherwise looking rather pleased with herself. Nearby, a delicate little foal was nestled in the straw, looking sleepy. She was chestnut from what I could see, and I could only hope that she'd turn out to have that deep red tone to her coat like her sire. However, her ears were small and rounded unlike the typical Arabian, reminding me of Annie in a small way. My parents hugged me as we gazed in wonder, and for a moment, the world stopped turning and the sun coming through the little windows made music and the Earth held its breath for all the splendor of a newborn life.
Dr. Scott left us in peace a few minutes later, assuring all of us that the foal would probably be perfectly healthy and to call if we needed him. I watched in wonder--I'd never seen a newborn foal.
She raised her head and looked up at us, her eyes wide with inquisition and her head perfectly sculptured. I smiled uncontrollably.
"Quite a Valentine's Day, huh?" my dad said, chuckling. I laughed.
"Yes," my mom agreed, kissing my dad quickly on the lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, honey."
"Happy Valentine's Day," my father replied, kissing my mom once again.
"Get a room," I teased. "Oh, and happy Valentine's Day." They laughed cheerily at me.
"She needs a name," my mom said thoughtfully. "A special name, for being born on Valentine's Day." I thought long a hard as we watched her try to stand up. A brilliant idea flashed through my mind.
"How about… P.S. I Love You?" I queried. "That's very lovey-dovey for Valentine's Day, I think." My parents gave me strange looks, but my mom broke into a grin.
"Actually, that's very cute," she said. My dad rolled his eyes.
"Thank God it's a filly and not a colt." I grinned.
"And as her nickname, just call her Val, like, short for Valentine."
"Hmm, maybe, we'll think about this," my mom said gently. "For now, we need to let Annie cool down a bit then put her blanket back on, then feed her. And oh, what are we going to do about keeping the foal warm?"
"Don't worry," my dad reassured her. "Annie's not a first-time mother. She'll keep her warm."
"I sure hope so. We should keep checking on her anyways. Any-hoo, let's go inside, everyone. I'm making a special breakfast and I have gifts!" Giving little Val one last glance, I followed my parents, who were hand-in-hand.
What a way to spend Valentine's Day. Much better than last year.