“Is everything spinning or is it just me?”
“It’s you, Emma,” Brie said as she set down a glass of water on my nightstand. “One foot on the floor, one finger on the wall. It will stop.”
I saw her shake her head as she sat with her legs crossed on the chair next to my bed. “Told you so” was written all over her face, but I had refused to listen to my best friend.
The room was now going mach one. I took Brie’s advice, slowing it enough to fight the rising nausea
How did I get here? Me. The girl that went after her goals with laser focus and took every calculated step without falter just screwed up royally. Well, not just. This had been a long time coming.
Like, before I even met the golden boy.
That’s what we call Colton McGivern. Perpetually tanned with blue eyes that shimmered like the surface of the ocean reflecting the sunlight, he had an unassuming swagger that made girls inwardly swoon and guys want to trade places with him. He also came from an outrageously wealthy family, so everyone clamored to be his friend.
Colton was out of my league and I was okay with that. He was much more up Harper’s alley and she his. They ran in the same circles, rode the same kind of horses (read: expensive), and their families vacationed in the same toney places. They were perfect for each other.
He had it all, including the one thing I truly envied him for – the kind of riding talent that at nineteen already put him on the fast track to the Olympics. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when Colton McGivern gained the experience to be chosen for the U.S. Three-Day Eventing Team. For all the opportunities handed to him, I had to begrudgingly admit he made the most of them. Watching him ride was an artistic endeavor, especially on cross-county. To use a very tired cliché, it was poetry in motion. It was the thing about him that made me catch my breath.
He regularly passed me in the barn aisle with barely a nod and one arm around Harper’s waist. How did they both look so clean? Between riding my own horse, schooling five sales horses, and managing a new crop of wide-eyed girls who would soon learn working for a professional was the opposite of The Saddle Club, staying dust and dirt free was not a priority.
I told myself I couldn’t stand him and his snooty girlfriend who had long been my barn rival. Stupid me believed that lie, so when those blue eyes started twinkling at me I was blindsided.
He had me at “I’ve been watching you ride. You’re real good.” I was ready to sell my soul when he complimented my horse and how well I trained him.
From then on it was an out-of-body experience. I watched with satisfaction Harper’s desperation as I stole her boyfriend away from her. She was seething and I was loving it. I finally had something she couldn’t have. I actually saw myself, the girl who kept her head down and eyes focused on being recognized only for her stellar work, now on the top of the social food chain. I was the “It Girl” because I was with the “It Guy.”
The ever-perceptive Brie tried to reel me in when we were on a cool-down hack with our horses after a jump lesson.
“Be careful, Em. Colton’s a player,” she said.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Where didn’t I? The eventing world is small and all information passes through central intelligence, aka the working students. You know that.”
“We have been wrong about people.”
“Rarely.”
I sighed, frustrated that the person I most relied on was crapping all over my party. “This is different. It’s not like he usually dates someone like me. He goes after the Harper types.”
Brie laughed, very loudly. “No, he goes after our types in-between the Harpers.”
“And how would you know?”
“Because he made a play for me two years ago, during his shock and awe phase. It started at the Young Riders Championships. He kept calling me “Island Girl” after he found out my mother was Jamaican. Told me how exotic I was, like a rare flower. Please.” She rolled her eyes. “I saw right through it. What better way to freak out your conservative parents than bring home a biracial girl with tattoos and piercings who never set foot in a country club? Talk about ignorant.”
My brain wrestled with my heart, telling it to listen to Brie. My heart said no way, he’s not like that. “Well, he’s grown up since then and he’s got nice friends. You talk to them all the time.”
“Emma, acting nice is easy. Anybody can do that.”
“Well, I really like them.”
“Fine. Just don’t be fooled by the so-called nice and remember where you come from.”
The last thing I wanted was someone telling me to know my place, as if I wasn’t good enough for those people. I was too far gone to hear what Brie was really saying.
How could Colton be bad for me when everything went to the next level after we started dating? I was the top placing young rider in the two-star at the Maryland International, which convinced my boss that I’d move up to Intermediate in the Fall. After snapping the new working students into shape, the barn was humming and two of the sales horses that were under my care were sold, netting a good profit. The best thing was Harper walking indignantly around the barn, nose high in the air trying to convince everyone she couldn’t care less. But, I knew better and was happy to be giving her a taste of her own medicine.
Yup, I was on a roll.
Right down a ravine.
One can only balance a golden boy and his social life with a 70-hour work week and a heavy competition schedule while kicking your rival when she was down for so long. Something had to give.
I began seeing my boss’ eyebrows arch in disapproval, the once tidy stalls that I cleaned become sloppy and, to my horror, my riding regress. As mortifying as it was, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t just running with the right crowd, I was in the center of it. Group texts, cross-county coursewalks, lining up along the fence at show jumping whispering to each other…and the parties, especially the ones at Colton’s house.
I know what you’re thinking — like a moth to a flame. But a moth has no choice; she’s hard-wired to incinerate herself. I was free will in living color.
Three weeks ago I was a nobody. Now I was going to Colton McGivern’s end-of-summer pool party. With his parents away, we had over 6,000 square feet and two fully stocked bars at our disposal.
The evening started with the promise that was carried on stolen kisses in the tack room earlier that day. It steamrolled forward on the memory of his hot breath whispering one tantalizing word in my ear.
“Tonight.”
Colton kept his arm around my waist and when he wasn’t beside me, those dancing blue eyes found me. A few moments later he’d hand me a shot and a cold beer to chase it with. After my third, I felt unsteady and gave myself a pep talk to pull it together. If only I could think of something to say.
“Remember where you came from.” The words came out of my mouth. Then he called me.
“Emma, come on inside with us.”
The group moved into the large rec room that had two flat screen TV’s and the latest arcade games. Down the hall was a theater with surround sound. Colton’s best friend Kieran stood behind the bar and waved a handful of straws in the air. “Alright you pieces of trash, let’s turn this party up a notch! Who’s first?”
That’s when I saw the white lines of powder on the rich mahogany wood. One after the other bent over inhaling it like life-sustaining oxygen. Kieran kept doling it out, laughing. Each person walked away from that bar changed, their faces sallow and unfocused eyes sunken. Everything they did was hyperbolic and grotesque. Yet they thought they were beautiful and at their best. It made them all the uglier.
Don’t forget…
Colton’s arm wrapped tightly around me, pressing who I was out of my body like a boa constrictor pushes the life out of its prey. “C’mon, it’s our turn.” He guided me towards the darkness that was the bar. I stumbled and he caught me. “Someone is getting tired. I’ll get you to a nice comfortable bed after this.”
“Yeah, you will,” I heard Kieran call out to his friend and laugh again. That humorless laugh.
Remember…
I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “I need some fresh air.”
“Sure sweetie, just after we….”
“No, I need it now.” I broke away and started towards the door.
He grabbed my hand, stopping me. “Wait.”
I looked around the room and then at Colton.
Remember who you are.
I wrenched my hand free and without another word walked out the door. Behind me I heard Colton call my name and Kieran telling him to let me go, that I wasn’t worth it.
No pal, you’re not worth it.
The night air refreshed and refocused me. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and texted Brie.
“At Colton’s. Please come get me.”
I headed to the front and started walking down the long driveway towards the road. My phone pinged.
“On my way.”
That’s how I got in this spinning room, laying all contorted on my bed and gulping down water.
Some could say I got here by not respecting myself, from low self-esteem. But from where I’m sitting – or rather reclining – it looks different. I thought a little too highly of my own strength and miscalculated the powerful undertow that results from diving head first into others’ bad choices.
That’s what I told Brie the next morning as we drove to the barn together via Starbucks.
“About time you figured it out.”
I walked in fifteen minutes early, clutching my coffee as if it were a life preserver. The usual long list of chores awaited me, plus one more at the very top: apologize to Harper.
Head down, eyes focused, I got to work.
1 Cor 15:33-34