Music boomed from the house before we even saw it. Jack and Lilac were in the front seat, Jack looking strange in a plain polo and jeans, Lilac looking great in her floral blue halter top and plain blue pants that flared at the ankles. I uncomfortably smoothed down my short red skirt, swallowing nervously. She and I had always wanted to go to a full-on high school party, but It happened and I'd never built up the courage to attend one without Her. I wondered if this was a good decision. Probably not.
Then the house swung into view and I had bigger worries.
It positively throbbed with music, teenagers, and booze. Some teens spilled onto the lawn, laughing and jumping around. One messed with a giant light that spotlighted the house, pointlessly impressive. Jack rolled his eyes and parked. "Don't do anything you'll regret in the morning."
"As in hungover or-"
At his sharp look, I laughed. "Don't worry. I'll stay clean. After a drunk-"
I caught myself in the memory. Lilac eyed me with something suspicious, and Jack opened his mouth in question, but I pressed my lips together and shoved out of the truck.
Outside, no truck windows muffled the sounds coming from the house. I gritted my teeth as Lilac joined me, looking excited. "I never get to party. How many have you been to?"
The last party I'd been to was Her birthday party. A few school friends came, and we'd had a scavenger hunt across the neighborhood. It'd been wonderful fun.
I swallowed. "None like this."
"Come on! It'll be wonderful fun." She bounded ahead and disappeared into the house, but Jack came around the side of the truck and stood uncomfortably next to me. "She's off saying hey to friends from this track, I think," he speculated.
"And leaves us to our own devices." I muttered.
Jack laughed. "It isn't too bad. We're not staying late, I have races tomorrow. But we can hang out for a bit, I don't know anyone here either."
I wrinkled my nose. "Don't come here often?"
"Ned comes more."
We fell silent and made our way into the house, unable to speak without shouting over the music. Silence was preferable to raised voices, though.
I couldn't tell if the house was pretty or not underneath all of the partygoers, though judging from the outside it probably was nicer than the Ritz hotel.
Jack somehow found us sodas, and we made our way out into the backyard, dominated by a swimming pool abandoned due to cold. I shivered, searching for something to say. "Holiday did well today."
The bay colt had run wire to wire, shooting from the gates and staying in first nearly the entire time. A stride away from the finish, though, another colt had charged up and won by a nose.
Jack frowned. "I was hand riding him. Should have reached for the whip on the backstretch, and we wouldn't have been caught. I wanted to bring him back fresh though."
Oh. I still had a lot to learn. "Well," I said, trying for optimism, "that means he'll win easy at the next race, when you ask for some speed."
"Maybe... it was a second class field though. This was to wake him up, but I'm worried how he'll go in a more challenging race."
"Second class field for a second class horse." A voice sneered behind me. "You should be pleased with how well he went, all things considered."
Jack stiffened and turned around; I stepped besides him to face the voice. Wes smirked at us from behind her red solo cup. Judging from the careful way she held herself, it wasn't soda in the cup.
"Go... suck on a fish." I said, unappreciative of the fact that she'd insulted one of my favorite horses.
Wes snorted. "I'm not getting into this. Where's my sister? I need to talk to her."
When we didn't answer, she sighed impatiently and strode past us, straight into the house.
"I don't like this." I muttered.
"What can we do though?" Jack asked. "They're related, and though Lilac must hate it, they're made of the same stuff. She'll fight off any foul words Wes gives her."
"Yeah..." I agreed numbly, setting the soda down on the little poolside table. It rattled dangerously, several bolts loose.
"Cold?" Jack asked as I shivered, suddenly rethinking the skirt. "I could be totally cliche and lend you my jacket, but..."
"You're cold too. Let's go back in the house and find Lilac and go. Early morning tomorrow."
"Today, technically. It's past midnight."
I ignored him and slipped past him and into the warm, slightly damp crush of the house. The scent of beer permeated the air, and I fought off the nausea and memories that I'd associated with it. I scanned the area for my friend, but none of the partygoers in plain sight were her.
"Lilac?"
"Probably in the middle of the party. Go outside and wait for us, I'll go find her."
"I just left the outside!" I protested, not wanting to face the cold again, not quite yet.
Jack sighed impatiently. "Front door, then."
"No, I'll come with."
We plunged into the crowd together, Jack cutting through the people neatly and me shoving after him. It wasn't hard to see why he was a jockey, pitted against the other teens, shorter than most girls. I was the same, though, and briefly considered being a jockey as a career path.
Concentrate, Anna.
Now was not the time to consider the future, a precious gift so few were granted. Though I wasn't going to have one if I got trampled tonight.
Jack stopped and bent down, picking something up. Oh geez. I hoped it wasn't Lilac. But then he turned around and was clearly supporting her, and she was clearly inebriated. "We've been here for twenty minutes!" I said.
Lilac rolled her eyes, a luxuriously lazy motion. "Come on... Anna... join the party."
"I'll never," I said. "And neither should you. Do you know what happens to drunk drivers?"
"I'm driving, thank you very much." Jack snapped, struggling under Lilac's weight. "Let's go."
"Oh, you're no fun." Lilac groaned, but she allowed us to pull her from the house and towards the truck, waiting so patiently for us across the street.
I followed along, fighting back disgust, but a roll of horror overtook it. Is this how it always was?
With a rueful shake of my head, I pushed into the front seat, the passenger seat. Lilac lounged in the back as Jack started the truck. He caught my eye and smirked. "She'll have a hell of a time tomorrow."
But it was I that was miserable.
*****
"Anna. Kill me." Lilac winced from across the room, blinking at the lights.
"Don't tempt me." I muttered into my pillow.
"Sheesh, what happened to being nice to the invalid?"
"What happened to not getting drunk?"
"Ugh." Lilac turned over, curling in on herself. "Don't remind me."
But I had. This was our fourth time having this conversation.
"Why are you so grouchy today?" She asked sleepily.
I sat up, not answering her question, and punched my frazzled pillow. "Screw it. Let's just grab breakfast and get out to the track. Jack left early with your dad and gave me the keys to his truck."
"Excellent." Lilac said, eyes gleaming. Jack's truck was gorgeous, a shining black thing that still harbored that new-car smell.
"You're not driving."
"Crap."
After a quick continental breakfast- for Lilac, not me- and seven melt downs over a lost tube of lip gloss- hangovers are worse than the drunks, sometimes- we were on our way, Lilac yawning over a cup of coffee- there'd been no tea, a cardinal sin, but she'd needed something- and me stiff in the driver's seat, jerking on the wheel with every pedestrian, with every stupid word from Lilac, with every ungenerous thought I had.
"God, Anna, you suck at driving."
Another jerk at the wheel. I was mad at her, I was mad at Her, and I was mad at myself. This was my fault. I should have said no to the party. Should've said no to her, to Her. Should've had breakfast, I was starving, but I hadn't had breakfast in 434 days and wasn't about to start now. Would the granola bar I snuck into my pocket count as a breakfast? But no, I was saving that for Bloodless Day in my quest to find his favorite treat. My mind flashed to something else, taking up every topic it could, begging for distraction.
Why was I thinking about jockeys?
I hauled the car into the driveway of the track, flashing Jack's pass at the guards. They nodded me in with a sympathetic glance at Lilac, but she didn't need their sympathy. The girl who'd never feel again needed it.
And then instantly there was turmoil.
It was only eight in the morning. The sun lazily lit the sky, the casual beams filtering through the clouds soft and uncaring. I parked near the Piperson shedrow and exited the truck, stretching. It was rather warm for a New York winter day (so, forty degrees- we were in no danger from snow) and the air smelled crisp, carrying the scents of trees and the sounds of neighs and the clattering of hooves to me.
The clattering of hooves was accompanied with the shadow of a large horse exiting the stable. It stepped into the sunlight, and then Bloodless Day bolted.
"Anna! Go get someone! I'll catch him!" Lilac yelled, but she was in no shape to catch a young stallion that had the morning breeze caught in his lungs and power caught in his body as he stretched into a gallop, whirling away from the stable and towards the track.
"Loose horse!" Came the cry.
I dashed into the stable and grabbed a leadline, running through the aisle, past a startled looking woman, and towards the track. I'd yet to put my boots on and found my sneakers much easier to run in. A few shouts followed the path of my target, and I found it easy enough to track him down.
He stood in the middle of the track, angry and defiant, striking at those that came near. A few horses already on the track were prancing nervously on the far side, studying each other with nervous eyes, but everyone else's attention was claimed by the stallion.
And was he a sight.
I'd never seen him in the sun before, and finally saw his true color, not black or brown but something in between. Muscles rippled under quivering skin as he dropped down, gathered themselves, and reared again. No one moved to catch him. His reputation was one well known.
I didn't care. I scrambled under the fence rail, unstopped by the useless spectators, and marched onto the track.
Bloodless Day stopped. He stared. He knew me, knew he didn't really know me, because I refused to be known. He flattened his ears, tossing his head, and I reached into my pocket, feeling the crinoline of the granola bar wrapper.
The stallion bolted towards the fence.
A few shouts and the harsh sounds of people shoving away from the fence momentarily distracted me, but my attention was ensnared by Bloodless Day as he charged. I was in the way, and as he thundered towards me, all I saw was the red tinge to his nose, the tangled mane, his cracked leather halter and fiery determination in his eyes.
I didn't move.
"Anna!" Someone shouted. Lilac, maybe. "Don't kill yourself!"
To be honest, I didn't really care. And there were worse ways to die than by this big, beautiful horse. Unexpectedly, on a breezy afternoon, the last thing running through Her mind the screeching of the cars. That was the worst way to go.
And then Bloodless Day slid to a stop in front of me.
The track fell silent. A far off horse whinnied, but all I could hear was the hard breathing of the stallion, feel the same breath on my face and in my heart, moving my chest and fluttering my hair.
We stared at each other, this mental stallion and this mental girl, and for a moment I forgot why I was there, what I was doing.
Then his eyes narrowed and I remembered.
"Good boy." I said quietly, voice shaking when I realized what had almost happened. "Easy there, here's your granola bar, and a lead rope..."
He tossed his head when I clipped the rope on, striking my cheek with his muzzle, and bit me when I gave him the granola, though I held my hand flat like they told me to at pony camp, but I didn't care. Fingers losing all feeling, I led him from the track, biting my lip when the spectators backed away from us. Bloodless Day glared at them all, and kicked out once, but then he settled for just tugging on the rope as I led him back to the shedrow, impatient and unable to tell me what he was impatient for.
*****
"Anna! Are you insane?! You must be! I've never seen something so stupid in my life. That horse has sent so many people to the hospital, nearly killed Willifred- and you stood right in front of him as he barreled towards you like some demented matador!"
Bloodless Day was pacing in his stall, Holiday warily peering at him from across the aisle, his massive head hanging next to mine as I leaned against his stall door, sitting on a hay bale, listening to Lilac rant. She'd been going at it for five minutes already, and I could tell she was only just getting started. She'd begun by cursing out Bloodless Day, and then me, and readjusted her language only when a stubborn looking woman entered the row, standing impassively near Shamrock.
"Lilac-"
"I don't want to hear it!"
"I don't think she does either." I pointed at the woman.
"What- oh she's next, since she's yet to tell me why she let Bloodless Day out in the first place." Lilac snapped, turning on the woman.
"You what?!" I exclaimed, staring at the woman in dismay. To her credit, she failed to look abashed.
"Lilac has yet to let me have a moment to speak." She said, affronted, in a decidedly French accent, though her English was flawless. Now that the conversation had turned to her, I was able to study her better, taking in the solid way she stood, the clever gleam to her eyes, the hair swept back into a professional braid. I touched my hair self-consciously. It had been braided earlier, but in the mayhem became mostly undone, very loose with about half of it floating messily around my face. This woman's stature spoke of firm, hard, in-charge sort of words like "appointments" and "money." Mine said "disheveled."
"Well, here's your moment." Lilac said, clearly in charge despite the other woman's haughty gaze.
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm Marcela Jamie." But she didn't say it like "Jamie." She said it like, "sha-me."
I said, "Is that even a French name?"
Lilac looked momentarily surprised, then smoothed her expression over again. "Oh, I wondered if you were at the track today. Apparently yes."
"Yes. I was brought here by my grooms. They called me, telling of a horse here, the very spitting image of my own, So Far So Good. I had to investigate. And he is very much like him in build and presence, though Goodie is much more manageable."
"Bloodless Day? He looks like your own?" Lilac asked incredulously.
Marcela shifted her gaze over to me. "Yes, he does. I was curious."
"That still doesn't explain why you let him out." I growled.
"I didn't. He must have muzzled the door open, because right when I entered the row, he came flying at me. Check the security cameras if you don't believe me."
I thought this was the stupidest excuse she could come up with- who'd ever heard of a horse opening a door?- but Lilac seemed to believe her, because she nodded and relaxed. "That makes sense. Though I am curious myself now. Could we go meet So Far So Good?"
Marcela smiled. "I'd be delighted to introduce you. Though may I suggest putting a clip on the door so we don't have a rehash of what happened earlier?"
After using the snap on the end of the lead line to secure the lock on Bloodless Day's door- I could see now how it was plausible he could have opened it- we left the shedrow, setting off for Marcela's row. I looked back once to see Bloodless Day grasping the rope in his teeth, neck arched and shaking his head wildly, as though he was killing a snake.
Marcela's shedrow was neatly raked, with halters hung evenly on the stall doors and hay nets all hung on the right side of the stall, elegant, gleaming horses nibbling at the stems poking through the nets. A foldable table sat snugly on the end of the row, flaunting a box of donuts. My stomach growled.
"Help yourself." Marcela smiled, noticing my glance at the box.
After a brief argument with myself that involved my deciding that it wasn't really breakfast, I grabbed a glaze and followed Lilac and Marcela as they walked towards a stall on the opposite side and peered in.
"He's gorgeous!" Lilac exclaimed. I looked over the door and was properly impressed. The horse that stared at us with a steady gaze was shining, dark with a small star high on his forehead. His mane fell evenly on his neck and his hind leg was cocked with relaxation, but there was something exciting and big about his presence. It was a feeling I'd only felt around Bloodless Day before, tingly and regal.
"This," Marcela said proudly, "is So Far So Good, my Derby horse."
"He's contending this year?" Lilac asked. Marcela laughed.
"He looks it! No, he's a two year old, but we have high hopes for him."
"He does look a lot like Bloodless. But... calmer. Are they related?" I asked.
Lilac and Marcela raised eyebrows at each other. "He's by DoomsDay and out of Impeachment." Marcela said.
"DoomsDay and Surrender."
They laughed. "They have the same sire," Lilac explained to me. "And their dams are full sisters. Who would've thought?"
I thought that was very cool. "Could Bloodless Day run the Derby?"
"He could, but the real question is could he run it with a jockey on his back?" The two laughed again and I felt a little left out, turning my attention back to So Far So Good. He let me scratch his cheek and closed his eyes in contentment, wiggling his lip.
So this was a Derby horse. Nothing at all like Bloodless Day. But I couldn't help but wonder. He'd stopped in front of me. He hadn't wanted to kill me. So maybe there was still hope for him.
I also thought, the only person who wanted to work with a potential killer was someone who didn't mind being killed.
*****
HAHAHAHAHA
So I kind of realized it's almost February which means it's almost February seventh, and I also wanted to publish this update before then so I can do The Big Race on the day it's run (how cool will that be) and then get on with the plot.
I'm also trying to convince my dad to take us to go see the Donn Handicap. It's another Derby prep, I believe, and close enough to my house that it isn't a big deal to casually head out to Gulfstream.
Anyways, I don't have much to talk about. So. Ciao!
~Iggy