Country Girls Do It Better... Book 1 Of The Healing Through Horses Trilogy

Chapter 27

             Kate's p.o.v.
             I stood in front of my mirror, not exactly liking the reflection staring back at me. Tonight was the Christmas dance, and I wasn't exactly trying that hard to look festive. A pair of black jeans and a red sweater would suffice just fine. 
            I knew that Chase and Hunter had both wanted to take me to the dance, and part of me was hoping that they were there tonight. I was still furious at them for the incident in the hallway at school a few days ago. I had purposely ignored them the rest of the week, although they had both tried to talk to me a few times. There was something off about the whole situation. It wasn't like them to pick fights. But, then again, it wasn't like Chase to completely lie about who I was to his 'friends.' 
              I straightened my gold scarf, making sure it was even. The scarf was covered in cat hair. Like, cat hair was poking out everywhere, and it was itching the back of my neck. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. 
             "Kate! Come on! It's almost time for you to go!" Dad's voice echoed up the stairs. I literally took hardly anything for him to be heard. He sounded like a fog horn. 
            "Coming." I shouted back down, snatching my phone of my bedside table. My alarm clock tumbled to the floor in the process; the bell hit me on my pinkie toe and rolled across the floor before falling, sadly, over on it's face.  
           I drew in a deep breath through my noise, plenty of colorful words rising to the top of my mind. "Fingernails," I muttered. That was the nicest one I could come up with. I limped to my door and wrenched it open, my toe absolutely throbbing.
          Dad was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his face a mix of concern and resignation. "What did you drop this time?" 
          "My clock. And then it fell on my toe and now it hurts." I pouted. 
         "Well, what do you want me to do? Kiss it?" he raised an eyebrow, amused. 
           I glared playfully at him, when I noticed him holding a crumpled up piece of paper in his hand. "What's that?" I gestured to the paper. 
          He looked confused for a moment, before realizing what I was pointing to. "Oh, uh...It's a note from Hunter. What's going on with you two anyways?" 

         I wouldn't meet his eyes. I knew that Hunter would get fired as soon as dad found out about what happened at school the other day, and, for some odd reason, I wanted to postpone that as long as possible. I didn't want Hunter to go. There was something still drawing me to him, even though I was still so mad at him. "Nothing happened."
          "I thought he'd be taking you to the dance like last time," realization dawned on his face. "Wait. You aren't going with that... Chate... boy, are you?" He looked at me warily, as if I would attack him if he made the wrong move. 
          I sighed. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "No. I'm not going with him. And his name's Chase."
         I could visibly see him relax, like my words were soothing. "Okay, well. See you tonight then." He handed me the note and walked to the door. He grabbed his hat off the peg and winked at me before heading outside. 
         Using the edge of the fridge, I smoothed out the scrap of paper before unfolding it and reading. 

                              Kate,

I'm sorry for what you saw at the school. I didn't want you to see me like that. I know you're probably still really mad at me. I can't apologize on Chase's behalf, but I can apologize on mine. I'm really sorry. Maybe I'll see you at the dance tonight. Please forgive me at some point, Kate.

~Hunter

            His writing was hurried and messy, and there were scribbled-out words frequenting the note. (A/N: I can't do fancy fonts on wattpad, and I can't make scribbled words here either. Use your imaginations...haha)
            If he really was sorry, why didn't he come say it to my face? 
            You would have slapped him...
            Shut-up, inner conscience. 
            I walked over to the door, opened it, and stepped out, throwing the note in the trash as I went.