Bloodless Day

High Tensions

Carrie, Carrie, Carrie.

I was done.

*****

Life without horses sucked.

Mom bustled around, preparing for graduation. Dad wrote like a fiend and occasionally checked in on me, holed up in my room, or drove me to school. Every weekday we passed by Piperson Farms, and every time I strained my eyes, searching for BD's glossy black coat in his field. I had to keep away from him, or risk ruining his chances. Again.

It's for everybody's own good, I told myself, and tried to enjoy a newfound popularity at school. Lilac had officially dropped out, and everybody wanted to be friends with the mysterious girl that rode the Derby horse.

I hated every moment.

Lilac and Jack popped in occasionally, concerned. I feigned sick. It was only a few weeks, until the run was over, and then I could go back to BD. Being without him was like trying to ignore a constant itch- carrots went into Mom's shopping cart out of habit. I found old, crumbly treats in random pockets. Every day I read new articles about him, his racing success, speculation about the Preakness. He'd never been beaten before.

And then one day, my self-exile screeched to a halt.

"Anna," Jack said sternly, staring down at me. His hands were crossed, his hair disheveled- he looked every inch a pissed off teenager. Not at all a top jockey. "This is ridiculous. I don't care if you have the freaking black plague. You're going to the race."

I stared dispassionately up at him from underneath my blankets. "I'm sick."

He swore. "The hell you aren't! I don't know what you're trying to pull, but your horse is going crazy without you. You've seen him every single day of your life for the past year, and when he needs you most, you're abandoning him?"

"He'd be worse if I was there."

"What does that even mean?"

"Emoting."

Jack quieted down. He unfolded his arms, hesitated, and slowly lowered himself to the floor until he was face to face with me. I stared at him solemnly back, hoping he didn't see the guilt drawn into me, and endless supply continually spilling into everything I was.

"Devon told me what happened."

It took me a moment.

"The groom with the colicky horse?"

Jack nodded. "He went to tell me, and Ned was there. It only took a quick Google search to confirm it."

My heart beat faster. No. No no no no no.  I didn't deserve the sympathetic look in his eyes, the sorrow. I deserved to be shamed. I'd virtually killed my best friend, and didn't even go to her funeral. "Jack, please-"

Misinterpreting my plea, he said, "we didn't tell anybody else. I don't think even Lilac knows, unless you told her. But honestly, we don't think any less of you. You've overcome a lot to be where you are- it takes a lot of bravery to recover the way you did. What Wes said was totally out of line. You were in the hospital. You couldn't help-"

He broke off suddenly and looked away, hearing as his voice grew more intense with every word. "Dammit. Just come back, okay? Your horse needs you."

So did Carrie.

It was going to take a lot more than words to get me out of this bed. But the defeated slump to Jack's shoulders, and the sudden memory that I wasn't the only one with problems, convinced me to let a hand slip out from under the covers. It was hot under the anyways.

With a relieved grin, Jack took it and pulled me up, cautious as he shifted his weight to his bad leg. "Thank you. Your horse is a mess."

*****

He was.

BD whirled in his stall, eyes blazing and ears pinned. Every line, every vein, every pump of blood through his body, was working towards the same thing- anger. Shark-like, he angled along the back wall, nearly rearing  as he whirled to change direction.

"I made him this way!"

At my voice, he settled, though he was still breathing hard. Mary nodded. "Nobody else is brave enough to take him out. Nate tried. He's still in the hospital."

All my fault.

BD glared at me, though his eye softened a little as I stepped closer, heart hammering. I extended a fist, and when BD bumped it with his nose, I opened it. Hot breath washed over my palm, and with it a roll of sadness.

Carrie.

BD tensed. Damn Wes for making him like this. Damn me for letting her.

"Whoa," Mary observed. "You need some serious zen time."

"What do you mean?" I backed away from BD, letting him continue his roundabout pacing.

"Your energy. It's so negative. Like all sad and angry at once- BD senses it and it drives him nuts, because you're telling him there's something bad or scary around.

"It's not like I mean to!" I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The barn smelled like heaven- all hay and horses and leather. Oppressive heat settled heavily on my shoulders, the soft whirring of fans in the distance relaxing.

I didn't deserve any of it.

Mary tsked. 'Well, your horse doesn't care if you mean it or not. You're leaving tomorrow, and it'll be a lot better for everybody involved if you and BD are in top form."

She left, leaving BD and I to stare sullenly at each other. Mary was right. I needed to get a grip.

I glanced down and saw my shirt and pants- black. Black as a mourner.

"Wes didn't ruin it," I said aloud, startling BD. "She may have aimed the gun, but I pulled the trigger. She didn't know Carrie. She didn't kill her, and she didn't miss her best friend's funeral."

As I watched BD react to my sadness in a whirl, I came to a singular conclusion, an unarguable truth: I could not be near this horse. If I ruined him with my mood, then his losing the Preakness would be all my fault. He had one more week to get used to not being with him. It would have to do.

You didn't even go to her funeral.

I drew away from the stall, sadly. "Good luck, buddy," I said softly. "You'll do great."

To my phone, I plotted out a text to Wes. Your plan worked. I hope you enjoy being so scared of my horse that beat you twice, that you had to destroy me like that.

You didn't even go to her funeral.

I turned away from the stall and began walking up the aisle, wanting to go home.

You didn't even go to her funeral you didn't even go to her funeral youdidntevengotoherfunural...

Lilac rounded the bend just then and spotted my dark clothes. With a smirk at the memory, she said, "who's funeral is it? I'm glad you're back!"

I burst into tears.