Cedar Wood Riding Academy by Alaina Fornal (electronic book reader .txt) 📕

            Ally was standing over near the guys table, obviously flirting with one of the guys. I took out my phone, and hit the read button on the screen.

            Aleah, you need to come home. If you don’t, I WILL come find you. I know where you are, and I am not afraid to hunt you down.

            I closed the message, and deleted it. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was even holding. When Ally came over, a concerned look crossed over her face.

            “Aleah…what’s wrong,” she asked me, scanning my face.

            “When lunch is over, I need to tell you something…about where I came from. I’m not like everybody else here. I’m not rich; I’m not in a stable home.”

            She nodded and sat down. She kept quiet while we ate, and I just stared at the food. I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. I didn’t think he was serious, but he may be. If he was… then that would mean that Ally was in danger, and so was Verona. He was psycho, and who knows. He may end up not even end up showing up.

            I walked with Ally to the pond that was on campus. I sat down on the bench, and looked at her.

            “I am not rich. I don’t come from a stable home…or even a stable family,” I said.

            “Okay…what’s your story, then,” Ally asked me.

            “I was born to a couple when my mom was sixteen. She couldn’t afford to keep me, so she gave me up for adoption, and she and my dad never looked back. Well, I never got adopted. I was bounced around from foster home to foster home for sixteen years. Finally, I ended up in the house I’m in, or, was in, now. Everything was going great the first two weeks I lived there. Then, the dad, Daryl, started getting high or drunk or something. He tried to rape me. I didn’t let him, and then he started to hit me and abuse me. About two months ago, I put in an application here as a joke.  I didn’t think I would actually get in,” I said, and looked down at my legs.

            “Oh my gosh… you really had to live through all that,” Ally asked.

            “Yeah, I’m not like most people here. That’s why I was so surprised that I got in, because I’m not somebody who is rich…and I don’t even own a horse,” I said.

            “Well, you aren’t like the other girls here, that’s for sure, but that’s a good thing! You aren’t bossy, snobby, or caking make up on your face. You are also an amazing rider if you got in here without owning a horse or attending any United States Equestrian Federation shows,” she said with a small smile.

            “Well, thank you,” I smiled back to her. She really was a good friend. 

“So, you are in the hunter jumpers, right,” some random guy asked me.

            “Yeah… why?”

            “Well, I just wanted to say, I have seen you ride, and you’re really good, much better than that Katarina chick,” he said. “Oh, and by the way, my name is Matt.”

            “Well, thank you. She’s my roommate, so a little competition is good, I guess. Nice to meet you Matt, I’m Aleah.”

            “Well, anyway. Class is about to start. I’ll see you later?”

            I smiled. “Yes, you probably will.”

            I picked up my backpack from the ground. I got up, throwing away my trey full of empty wrappers from muffins. I slid the backpack up and on, and walked to the first class I had of the day. Chemistry.

            When I got to Chemistry, I took the only seat that remained open—the seat next to Kat’s boyfriend, Carson. I let out an audible sigh, and went and took a seat.

            “Hey,” he said. I ignored him. “I said, hey.”

            “What,” I stated, not looking at him. “I know you aren’t thrilled to have me sit next to you, trust me, I’m not thrilled either. So maybe talking will do us both some good, and keep us out of fights.”

            “Alright, class, now, please take out your notebooks for some note-taking,” She said. She was a tall lady, thin with a short black pixie cut to her hair. Her classes were large and round and she had a classroom that reminded me of an elementary school room.

            I reached down, taking out my notebook, and then taking out a black ink pen. When the teacher put all the notes up on the board and began describing what everything was, and what they meant, I jotted it all down quickly.

            “…Now, use the arrow pointing up to show an electron, and a arrow pointing down to show an electron. We won’t show them both pointing up because then they’ll be forcing each other way to occupy the same space.”

            I glanced over at the left of me, seeing Carson looking totally lost. To my right, was a cute guy, probably a year older than me, looking as if he understood all of this and this was a breeze.

            “Do you understand any of this,” I asked Carson.

            “Not a thing.”

            “Assumed not. It’s not that hard. For Oxygen, put an O then a small eight on the left side of it. Then, write one s, two s with a line over them,” I said, watching him. “Alright, now, write two p with a small x, two p with a small y, two p with a small z, and then lines on top of them.”

            I watched as he did what I said. “Okay. So, oxygen has 8 electrons, since that’s the atomic number. Put an arrow pointing up in each space,” I said. “Okay, now you all you have to do, is put an arrow facing down in one s, two s, two p x, and that’s it.”

            “Oh! Thank you,” He said. “I don’t know why Kat said you were a bitch…you really aren’t.”

            I went back to my work, and continued writing down the rest of the formulas. When the bell rang, I stuffed the notebook in my backpack, and went out the door. For today, I had the next three hours of equestrian riding and training. I smiled and went into my dorm, throwing my bags on the bed, and went to the closet. I grabbed my blue riding shirt, my black riding breeches, and then my boots and half chaps. I stripped down to my undergarments and pulled the breeches on, then the shirt over my head. I took my helmet, and set it on the bed. I sat down, pulling my paddock boots on over the breeches. I pulled on my half chaps, zipping them up. I picked up my helmet, and left the dorm room, tucking my key in my shirt as I left.

            When I got to the barn, I noticed everybody around Verona’s stall. I felt the pace of my heart pick up. I ran over.

            “Is Verona okay? What happened to her,” I asked, seeing Verona’s painted body lying on the ground.

            “She colicked. She will be fine, but you will have to ride either another horse, or go to the western barn and see if they’ll let you ride one of their horses for the day,” Mrs. Finch said.

            “I’ll take another horse…what other horse is there,” I asked her, sighing softly.

            “Well, there is Marco. He’s a lot shorter than Verona, however.”

            “I’ll take him,” I said, and went to the stall around the corner, seeing Marco. He was a small horse, probably no more than fifteen three hands. I set my helmet on the ground near his stall, and went to the tack room, getting his tack and grooming box.  I walked out of the tack room, setting it by his stall on the floor. I took the saddle and placed it on the saddle rack, then grabbed the halter.

            “Well, you are short, but your hindquarters are huge there, Marco,” I laughed, sliding the halter on him.

            He snorted, and tossed his head. I cross tied him in the stall, then took off the lead rope. I hung the lead rope back on the hook outside the stall, and picked up the dandy body brush. I brushed him down, removing the giant clumps of dirt and shedding hair from his body. I tossed the brush back in the grooming box, and took out his bell boots, along with a hoof pick. I cleaned out the first front hoof, lifting his leg up. I straddled the hoof, holding it between my knees so I could pull on the rubber bell boot. He stood there patiently, looking as if he was about to fall asleep. I took the other bell boot and did the same with the last hoof. I went around to his hind legs, cleaning out the hind hooves as well.

            When I was done grooming, I took the saddle pad and set on top of his back, right behind his withers. I then put the saddle on him, and tightened the girth on both sides. When I was satisfied the saddle was on tight enough, I took off his halter, buckling it around his neck so he wouldn’t walk off. I tossed the reins over his head, and fixed the bridle in my hands. I held up the nose band, and stuck my left thumb in the corner of his mouth, pressing down on his gums. He opened his mouth, and I slid the bit in. I pulled the rest of the bridle over his head, and fastened all the buckles. I tucked the excess leather into the keepers, and then took the reins from over his head again, and undid the halter. I let the halter clank against the wall, and walked him out of his stall, grabbing my helmet on the way out. I put it on my head, and walked outside, sliding the reins to the crease of my elbow, and quickly snapped the snap on the helmet under my chin. I smiled and walked to the arena, and went in with the rest of the class.

            I tightened my girth one last time before leading Marco over to the mounting block. I slid my foot in the stirrup, and hauled myself up onto his back. I gathered my reins and put my foot in the other stirrup and walked him to the middle. I adjusted my stirrups and led him out to the wall at a nice working walk. It was weird riding a different horse. I kept my heels pressed down as far as they could go, so it would secure my leg.

            “Alright, now, everybody please trot,” Mrs. Finch.

            I sighed and asked Marco for a trot. He went instantly into a slow trot, then with a little more leg pressure he went into his nice working trot. I smiled and kept my leg still, keeping my toe at the girth, and then