Three barrels.
That was all that was set out in the ring before them. Just the three barrels set up in a triangular shape and a scoreboard overhead. Dylan adjusted the cowboy hat on her head and brushed a stray strand of coffee colored hair out of her eyes. Her light golden horse fidgeted beneath her, anxiously awaiting the starting bell.
"Easy Stella," Dylan murmured and stroked her muscular neck, "They're almost ready."
As soon as the bell rang Stella shot out of the starting gate. But Dylan was prepared. She's done this hundreds, if not thousands of times before. This isn't her first rodeo.
They headed first to the barrel on the right, circled it, then headed to the one on the left and circled it the opposite direction, then they made the stretch to the last barrel at the top of the triangle.
Dylan nudged Stella's sides with her spurs, asking for more speed. Stella was more than happy to oblige. She lived for the speed of this race. As they circled the last barrel Dylan was careful to take the tightest turn possible, but not too tight that Stella would brush against the barrel and it would fall over. Five seconds is added to your time if a barrel is knocked over. In this sport five seconds is an eternity.
After crossing the finish line Dylan gave Stella a pat and looked up at the scoreboard. 15 seconds. Not bad, but they've done better. But 15 seconds is good enough since it put them in first place.
"Hey Princess," A boy with bright pink hair sat on a bay horse in the starting gate. Michael Clifford. Dylan rolled her eyes.
"Go shove a pitchfork up your ass," She responded curtly and dismounted Stella, who immediately sniffed her pocket for treats.
"You're still just as lovely as ever," Michael laughed, "Are you still not over your defeat at Nationals last year?"
Dylan's face turned red. She hated him. She really really hated him. To answer his question, no she still wasn't over the fact that last year he was a whole 2.6 seconds faster than she was. She had gone to a seemingly endless amount of training last year so she could make it to the final round. You can imagine her surprise when a then green haired newbie won the title instead of her.
In Dylan's entire life no one had ever been faster than her. When she was six she won her first barrel race on a tiny chestnut Shetland pony named Ginger. Over the next 10 years Dylan kept winning. But winning the Youth Barrel Racing Nationals had been her dream. The under-18 best riders from all over the world came to San Antonio, Texas for three days to compete in this championship.
Out of all the people in there she had least expected the former show jumper to beat her. He had started riding western less than a year ago. She's been doing it practically her whole life.
It wasn't fair.
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well here's the new fanfic for you guys! idc if someone's already done this idea before, I'm still going to write it
if you could vote and comment i would be a very happy child :D
also i've never really written in 3rd person before so idk
