Sharing is Caring

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When I was maybe nine or ten, I was separated from my best friend in school. We had different classes, different teachers, and even as I loyally waited for the day to end so we could hang out together. Yet towards the end of the semester, She began to find a friend in someone else. Suddenly, it wasn't She and I. It was She and the Imposter and occasionally I. Sharing my best friend was a weird and unnatural feeling, and though She was sad when the Imposter moved away, quietly I rejoiced.

I'd never been one to share friends. People became different when they interacted with separate groups, adjusting their language and even personality. It was a rocky ocean on which social people tread, and I preferred myself firmly on land. Unchanging and solid, a singular, true Anna. It was why I did not make much of an effort to reach out to people at school, why Lilac and Jack were my friends when I had no one else.

So anyways, that little blurb of my life reemerged from a deep sea of memories, taking up a cozy corner in the back of my mind as we readied Jack and Bloodless Day for the debut. Trying to separate myself, just a little bit, from the stallion was hard on both of us, so I retreated into my memories. It was a dangerous line I balanced on, where remembering could either help or hurt.

I didn't want to slink back into that slump where all that mattered was someone that could no longer be helped.

Every day Jack grew stronger. He swam, he practiced balancing exercises, he worked his bad leg just a little bit more than his good. Bloodless Day nickered when he saw me, still, but he began to call out to Jack when he caught sight of the jockey rolling down the aisle.

I admit it, I was jealous.

The end of the month found me in the saddle. It was late Saturday afternoon. The day had been hot, too hot to ride, so only now Lilac and I were exercising the horses. No one had mentioned it, but I knew Jack was going to the doctor's tomorrow.

So it was my last ride on BD.

His neck was silky smooth as I stroked it, admiring the way his shortened mane fell over his neck, knotless and shiny. His hooves fell evenly underneath me, carefully placed one after another in a drumbeat I never wanted to forget.

Lilac grinned from her seat on Goodie. The other stallion shot BD a disgruntled look, but BD was chewing softly on the bit, pointedly ignoring him. I tried to memorize the way he felt under me, how his presence pulled me in. Riding BD was like holding an eagle- uncertain, jittery, but a solid power churned inside. It was either with or against BD. There was no dominance in this relationship.

"Want to run?"

Yes, I wanted to run. No, I didn't want this to be my last run. But BD didn't understand that this was the last, and he tossed his head and tugged at the bit.

I let him go.

We shot down the track, Goodie just in front of us, blocking him back. The horses were only due for a short gallop, to get them breathing, and then go for a long trot. This built up muscle and stamina.

It was a hot, windless day, but we created a breeze so strong I had to resist the urge to grab BD's mane, for fear I would be swept off his back. They should've named him Hurricane. We surged down the track, BD arcing his neck in a mock-buck, and slowed as we hit the corner. Lilac was gasping with joy as we slowed into a trot, hovering lightly over the saddles. "That was amazing! Look at Goodie, he's barely winded! We're so ready for our first race."

"When is it?" I asked politely,

Tossing her hair, Lilac thought for a moment. "Churchill Downs, I believe. We want to start him off big- this horse has everything going," Without really meaning to, she was patting Goodie. I felt a twinge. Had I been a few years earlier, that could have been BD and I starting off big. "But I think we'll race him lightly as a two year old, and press him for the Derby next year, of course. I've been speaking to his owner and she agrees, we have nothing to prove this early on."

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