A/N: I'm sorry I'm not much for long chapters or quick updates, but I promise I am still working. I've grown too attached to this young Regina to give up without a fight, and I hope that after this chapter, you'll agree with me.

"À demain, Monsieur."

Regina was always among the last to leave French.

As the last period of the day, most of her fellow students stampeded out the door the second the bell rang. A few stragglers would bide their time until whatever after school activity came next, and in the week of an exam, a small group would gather around their teacher's desk with obsessively specific questions. It was AP, after all, and Regina wasn't the only one concerned with grades. Though as the quarter passed, the number of students with questions grew significantly smaller—as long as they didn't fail, it wasn't likely their colleges would revoke their acceptance.

Today, no one had been waiting by his desk by the time Regina had completed her careful packing up, and she started a discussion with him. Monsieur Lu, as he liked to be called, wasn't her favorite, but the man did like to chat, which on occasion Regina would use as extra opportunity for improving her listening comprehension. Mostly, she just wanted to avoid the rush. The chatter. The friends running into friends running into other friends. She'd let Monsieur go on about what he thought of the latest novel she was reading or whatever pop song he recommended she listen to until he had packed his bag as well, then she'd throw hers over her shoulder and say "au revoir," heading out into the still bustling halls, where she could move unnoticed.

Today she had to head to the language department after class, but she hadn't wanted to walk with Monsieur. Sometimes it was better to have the cover of a teacher, a purpose, a conversation, but Monsieur Lu was so flamboyant, she knew there would be smirking instead of the usual ignoring, and she was not in the mood. Not after she had been accosted in the library.

So she hurried in the direction of the English offices instead. She sat in the lounge there every Tuesday after school and Wednesday during her 7th period lab alternate to offer her editing and tutoring services, but no one ever came for help. People rarely came for any of the other tutors either, but they never came for her. That was why she was handing in the form that requested she drop her Tuesday slot. She really didn't mind sitting there alone during the day, but as much as she didn't want to, she felt out of place once the students were gone. She belonged to this world of adults and old books and shuffling papers more than she did the world of her peers, but that was not saying much. Besides, if she didn't have to do Tuesdays anymore, she wouldn't necessarily have to tell her mother that. And that would mean a whole extra hour out from Cora's watch.

She opened the mottled glass door and headed straight to Ms. Shelley's desk. Regina had been in her class for sophomore honors, and even though it had been a…difficult year for her, Ms. Shelley was one of her favorites. She also was the head of the writing tutors, which is why Regina left the form in the bin on her empty desk. She glanced around, seeing if Ms. Shelley was anywhere near, but it appeared she hadn't gotten back from class yet. Regina considered waiting—she often felt buoyed by her conversations with the woman, and loved to hear about whatever she was managing to read in between grading papers, but she didn't have any real reason to stay. Not today. She sighed and took a post-it from the top of the desk, leaving a note on top of her form.

Waving a quick hello to her freshman English teacher as she passed his desk, she purposefully strode through the door and around the corner to the smaller hall that would put her right next to the language offices. The hallways had cleared a decent amount since she had left French, but had yet to empty, and she paid close attention to the students she did pass. No one had made any direct threats for a while, not when they had heard rumors of her mother's capabilities, and not when she herself had done a decent job of discouraging anyone from interacting with her for any purpose at the end of freshman year, but that didn't mean it was impossible. It was better to be on guard.

She waved again to Señor Botas who was conversing with a student at the other end of the corridor—he had wanted her to test into his 3rd year class when he found out she had a solid comprehension of Spanish, but Regina hadn't had the time in her schedule. And she hadn't wanted her mother to know she was still trying to learn her father's language, especially when the maid who had tried to help her when she was little had been so summarily dismissed—but Señor Botas didn't have to know that.

Stopping in front of the department assistant's desk with a small smile, she pulled out the form confirming her Lauréat National ranking in this year's Grand Concours and handed it over. She likely wouldn't be attending the department honors ceremony to get her certificate, but it was nice to know she could.

Errands done, she stepped back into the hall. Blissfully empty. Checking one last time that she had everything she needed in her overstuffed bag, she marched to the front doors.

The walk to the Storybrooke Stables at the edge of the woods wasn't particularly long, but in the defrosting of spring, it could be hazardous for someone at the bottom of the social chain. She had to walk past the track with the track team just starting their warm-ups and the cheerleaders stretching, past the practice fields where the lacrosse and soccer teams were casually passing their respective balls around, past the equipment shed where the self-proclaimed "Lost Boys" would smoke, until she finally would reach the fork in the road that turned off into the forest.

She pulled the sash on her jacket tighter but kept her head high as she walked by, having forgotten just how many of her peers could be around the school when Maine decided to have a beautiful spring day.

The teasing had gotten better over the years, as she had managed to cultivate a certain aura. It took work, hard work, to fight against her instinct to want people to like her, her miraculously sustained perspective that there could be happiness for her, but it was worth it, building those walls. Fewer people stared, even fewer commented, and she hadn't been trailed by Lost Boys bored in their rebellion looking to rile her in at least a year.

In fact, whether in or out of school, she rarely got approached at all anymore. Which was what made Emma Swan's actions in the library so inexplicable.

She hadn't really noticed when the blonde had first come to town, seeing how she hadn't had any friends left by that summer, and she didn't hang out anywhere her peers did. But eventually, Mother had dropped in some dinner conversation that Dr. Hopper had taken it upon himself to take in a stray, or so she had scoffed. A foster daughter, most recently from Boston, but who had been born in the area. One who was obviously a teen delinquent, and Regina should make sure to stay far away from her.

That only made Regina desperately want to meet the girl.

She was new, probably a loner, and while Regina hadn't been much for making friends at the time, this girl didn't know anything about her. Nothing, in a town filled with people who had known her in some form or another since she was a little girl. Even if they didn't become friends, maybe she could have an acquaintance. Someone with whom she could start new. A secret to keep from mother, as dangerous as that was.

She knew she shouldn't. And she couldn't go in search of her, not without Cora knowing, so she tried to block it from her mind. Soon enough, she had forgotten about Dr. Hopper's new ward. One day though, the last week before school started again, going into Granny's to fetch Mayor Blanchard's coffee as she had every morning that summer, she spotted an unfamiliar blonde leaning against the counter. She thought about going over. Just for a second. But then Ruby popped from around the corner, and the girl laughed, clearly friendly. So the not-so-new girl and Ruby were friends. Which meant that if she weren't already, the new girl would soon be friends with Mary Margaret. Regina had hurried out of the diner at the thought, clenching the Mayor's coffee so tightly she burst the lid. That was the end of that.

Once they were in school together, her suspicions about Emma's new friends had been confirmed, and she was surprised to find that Emma was in her advanced English, but not surprised when the blonde entirely ignored her. She thought a couple of times early on she might've caught her looking her way in class, but Regina could never be sure of it, and it had stopped entirely by the end of the second week. After that, Emma Swan never paid any attention to Regina Mills, just like most of the rest of her class. Regina couldn't even remember a time when they had exchanged words in class, or even if they had participated in the same discussion. So the idea that Emma would approach her, friendly, confident, out of the blue, in the final weeks of their high school career…it didn't make any sense. None at all.

Regina was about to run through the conversation in her head for a third time when she realized she had already reached the barn doors. She felt a good deal of her stress dissipate. This place, the stables, was as safe as she was going to get.

It wasn't a particularly fancy set up. There were a few lockers on the side and a shelf full of helmets, a small waiting area, and seven stalls. The business part of the operation was run from a tiny shed next door, complete with the only plumbing. There was a decent sized ring right behind the barn, but most of the riding took place in the forest paths that had been carved into the landscape with years of wear.

Regina headed directly to the last locker on the row, her own. The other three belonged to the stable hands, though only one would be on duty at any given time unless there was a lesson or a trail ride, neither of which were common until the summer. She didn't know which one was currently working—no one was around as she pulled out her duffle. Her locker had been a relatively recent development; she had started keeping all of her gear there after a couple of jocks who had seen her carrying her helmet added "Horse Girl" to their list of stupidity, but it was easier anyway. And it made sense. She was the only one who owned a horse there. Anymore, at least. Rocinante, Daddy's best gift, was really just boarded there, even if Mother had insisted she never do any of his care.

Deciding to risk being out in the open, she pulled out her hair clip and swapped her turtleneck for a soft and somewhat raggedy button down, kicking off her loafers, and with a quick look around, dropped her khakis to jump into a worn pair of jeans. She felt slightly better as she pulled on her boots and braided her hair. She had nicer riding clothes, even a full proper English riding outfit, but today, with absolutely no one to judge her, she just wanted comfort. Throwing her clothes and books into the locker, she made her way over to the last stall on the row to see her Ro. He whickered as she opened the gate, dipping his head in greeting.

"Well, hello to you, too," she replied, petting him down the white of his nose.

Regina swore he understood more than anyone thought, which she was more than fine with. She'd rather her primary companion be as smart as possible.

It didn't take long at all to groom and saddle him, an easy routine from her five years at the stables, and she was glad for it. She could use as long a ride as possible.

She headed straight for her favorite path through the woods, the one with a long stretch of flat covered in pine needles, the creek that she could easily make a jump—the one where you could veer off and end up atop a grassy hill with a single tree, far away from the town below.

She hadn't gone there in a while.

She would soon, but not today. Today was for tearing through the forest, feeling relief with each stride Rocinante took away from town.

That relief rapidly turned into fleeting freedom, power. She was good at this, and she and Ro trusted each other, effortlessly maneuvering though the woods. As the trees began to blur past her, she imagined herself a princess from a tale making her escape, an adventurer in search of a new land, a warrior—Xena on her trusty steed.

She smiled as the thought flickered through her mind. She wondered if she might be able to sneak another episode. She had caught it accidentally one morning, and thought it rather silly, but she couldn't deny the appeal. Not when she was one sword and some leather away from making a war cry herself. Mother would just love that.

Her moment of humor allowed in the depths of the woods turned shuddering when her brain forced her to consider what her mother might do if she actually saw it happen.

Pulling into a small clearing, the wind drying the sweat that had formed on her brow, she saw that the sun was much lower than she had planned on and those shudders grew worse.

She turned Rocinante around, pushing him as fast as possible through a shortcut back to the barn, hopping off and practically running him back to his stall.

"I'm so sorry, Ro," she apologized as she removed his tack, placing his saddle over the wall. "I didn't mean to work you this hard, but I have to get back home."

Rocinante whinnied, seemingly in understanding.

"Need a hand there, Miss Mills?"

The voice of one of the stable hands, Angus, startled her. He was relatively new, but nice from what little she had interacted with him, and sturdy as a horse himself. Normally she would've refused his help, but at the moment she found it would offer her precious minutes.

"Yes…thank you."

Angus nodded and took to cleaning Rocinante's hooves with ease.

Between the two of them, they made quick work, and Regina ran off to change in the office bathroom while Angus finished up.

She threw her riding clothes back in her locker and grabbed her bookbag, running out the door, but not before catching Angus coming out of Rocinante's stall.

"Thank you for your help, Angus."

He shrugged, offering her a smile. "It's my job."

She tried to give a sincere smile back as she hurried out.

"Miss Mills," he called after her, "I could give you a ride to town, if you're in a hurry. It's no trouble."

She had stopped at his call, well trained in the tenets of polite conversation, but her hesitation in answering was enough that the look in his eyes shifted from kindness to one of concern. She couldn't. Even if she was late, she couldn't risk getting close to another man at these stables. She shook herself out of her thoughts as best she could.

"No, thank you," she murmured, less confidently than she had hoped, and dashed out the doors to a path cutting through the woods.

Angus just shook his head.

By the time she could see her grand house through the trees, she was panting. She had needed the extra time with Ro because of the prom announcement, which she unfortunately hadn't managed to avoid in its entirety, and Emma Swan, but she should have known better not to take it when she had to walk home. The forest path helped, but it was still a long way, and as she jogged over the branches, her pack pulling hard on her shoulders, she wondered whether the running or being late would be the thing to get her in trouble. She stopped just short of the tree line, quickly opening her bag and grabbing enough textbooks to hold that her backpack wouldn't affect her posture, and stepped calmly but firmly to the front door. Just as she was about to open the door, it was opened for her.

She glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall and sighed deeply.

She was right on time.

"I was worried you would miss your practice, dear," Cora intoned in a way that had Regina feeling she was more upset about not having reason to scold her.

"Of course not, Mama."

She carefully placed her loafers in the hall closet, hoping to hide the extra dirt they were covered in, and brought her books to the grand piano, setting them down to pick up her violin instead. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and her body's response to the exertion, and began her tuning.

Cora, scrutinizing her from the moment she stepped through the door, finally turned and left at the sound of the first notes.

Regina relaxed, just a little. She could make it through the next two hours.