Chapter Fifteen: Willow

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Dylan stared at the riding uniform laid out neatly on his bed, trying to process what he was looking at. The pink fitted sports jacket was a glaring contrast to the image of rugged cowboy attire he'd hoped for when he signed up for equestrian riding. Next to the jacket were white breeches, impossibly slim and looking like they'd cling to him in ways he'd never imagined breeches could. The final touch—a pair of tall, sleek black leather boots—completed the ensemble.

 The final touch—a pair of tall, sleek black leather boots—completed the ensemble

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Dylan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "At least it's pants," he muttered under his breath. He had spent enough time in skirts over the past two days to appreciate that small mercy.

He reluctantly pulled on the breeches, struggling a bit as they clung tightly to his legs. They were snug around his thighs, and as he stood in front of the mirror, he couldn't help but notice how they accentuated his figure in ways he wasn't used to. He slipped on the boots, feeling the leather stretch around his calves, before zipping up the jacket, which, to his dismay, was fitted in all the wrong places. It cinched at the waist and flared slightly at the hips, giving him a distinctly feminine silhouette.

Dylan frowned at his reflection, tugging at the jacket as if that would make a difference. "Of course it makes me look like this," he muttered. "Figures."

He grabbed the helmet that had come with the uniform and took a deep breath. It was time.

Stepping outside, he made his way across the school grounds. For the first time in days, Dylan actually felt a sense of peace. The air was cool, and the soft breeze ruffled his hair as he walked. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over Crestwood's sprawling campus.

He hadn't spent much time outside since arriving. Most of the time, he was hiding in the common area or scurrying between classes, too self-conscious to really take in his surroundings. But now, for the first time, he allowed himself to slow down, to breathe in the fresh air, and to take in the beauty of the place.

As he approached the stables at the far end of campus, the sound of horses whinnying and hooves clopping against the dirt path filled the air. Dylan felt a nervous excitement bubbling in his chest—he had always been fascinated by horses as a kid, imagining himself riding across vast plains like some kind of modern-day cowboy. That fantasy had obviously been altered, but a part of him still held onto the thrill of riding for the first time.

When he arrived, three girls were already gathered near the entrance, chatting casually as they waited for the lesson to begin. They glanced up as Dylan approached, their eyes flicking briefly over his outfit before one of them smiled warmly.

"Hey, you must be Diana," one of the girls said, her dark ponytail swinging as she turned to face him. "I'm Claire. This is Anna and Sophia."

Dylan nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, that's me. First time doing this, so... go easy on me."

Claire laughed. "Don't worry, we're all still learning. It's pretty fun once you get the hang of it."

The instructor, a tall woman with sharp features and a no-nonsense air about her, arrived shortly after. She introduced herself as Ms. Lennox and wasted no time assigning them horses. Dylan was paired with a sleek chestnut mare named Willow, who regarded him with calm, intelligent eyes as he approached.

Ms. Lennox gave him a quick rundown of how to saddle and prepare the horse, which Dylan picked up on faster than he expected. Once he was settled into the saddle, a wave of excitement surged through him. Willow's powerful muscles moved beneath him as they walked in slow circles around the training arena, and for the first time since he had arrived at Crestwood, Dylan felt in control.

The lesson itself was straightforward, with Ms. Lennox walking them through the basics: proper posture, keeping their balance, and gentle commands to guide the horse. Dylan found himself sitting up straighter, shoulders back, trying to exude the "dignity and grace" they'd been drilled on in etiquette class earlier that day. Despite the tightness of the breeches and the ridiculous jacket, he felt surprisingly... comfortable.

"Good posture, Diana," Ms. Lennox called out as she observed the group, nodding approvingly. "Remember, keep your head high and your movements deliberate."

Dylan glanced over at the other girls. They all seemed at ease in the saddle, moving with an effortless fluidity that he envied. But he kept up, determined not to fall behind, even as his legs started to ache from gripping the sides of the horse.

After several rounds of walking and learning how to gently steer, Ms. Lennox instructed them to try a slow trot. The sensation of the horse picking up speed made Dylan's heart race, but he quickly found a rhythm, adjusting to the way Willow moved beneath him.

"You're a natural," Claire said from her spot a few paces away, giving him an encouraging grin. "Took me a few lessons to get that down."

Dylan returned the smile, feeling a flicker of pride. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

By the end of the lesson, Dylan's muscles were sore, and he was sweating underneath the jacket, but there was a sense of accomplishment in the air. The girls thanked Ms. Lennox as they dismounted, and Dylan gave Willow a soft pat on the neck, silently grateful to the horse for not throwing him off or making him look foolish.

"Nice work today, ladies," Ms. Lennox said, her tone softer than it had been at the start. "Keep practicing, and soon enough, you'll all be riding in competition earlier than you thought possible."

As Dylan led Willow back to the stable, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of victory. It wasn't exactly what he had imagined when he signed up for equestrian riding, but for the first time since arriving at Crestwood, he felt like maybe—just maybe—the next few months wouldn't be so bad.

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