Blown Away (CURRENTLY EDITING)

Chapter 4: Home Life

~AFTER SCHOOL~

Sadly, I found out that I have five out of seven classes with Travis, one class with Kassie and Trina, and two classes with Sophie. I guess all I have to deal with now is ranch work, so that's an advantage. After saying goodbye to everyone, I hop into my truck and blast my music. But as I see Travis in the parking lot talking with his friends, I decide to change up my go home music. I roll my windows down and crank Behind the Scenes by Francesca Battistelli. I decide that I'm just gonna sit in my spot during the first verse, then drive away either when Travis shows up or when the chorus starts. So, I start playing the song at max volume, making sure my speakers are on for everyone to hear.

You may think I'm just fine
How could anything ever be out of line?
I take my time to set the stage
Make sure everything is all in place

By now, I've started to cry. This song hits me all the time. Nobody knows my entire story. Not even my counselor, my friends, my family, or even my youth pastor knows it. I get weird glances from everyone left in the parking lot, which makes it even worse.

Even though I've got the lines rehearsed
A picture only paints a thousand words

By now Travis is looking at me with a confused expression written across his face. So I take this time to get out of the parking lot. I'll obviously drive slower so he hears all of the song that I want him to. I begin to wipe my tears, slip on my sunglasses, and start backing out so I make it out in time. But the one thing I don't understand is... Travis is getting closer...

Things aren't always what they seem
You're only seeing part of me
There's more than you could ever know
Behind the scenes

I'm still driving slow, but I guess too slow because Travis tries stopping me. I just put the truck back in reverse and let him fall to the ground before going the other way.

I'm incomplete and I'm undone
But I suppose like everyone
There's so much more that's going on
Behind the scenes

By the time this part of the song is over, I peel out of the parking lot and head home. Luckily, there aren't any cops around and the resource officer left early, because my dad would've been extremely pissed if he found out that I got a ticket for speeding.

~~~

By the time I get back to my house, I'm right on time. Once I'm parked in my spot, which is how my dad prefers it, I climb out of my truck and head to the stables. It's two stories high, made of ebony wood, painted red and white that's slowly fading, a relatively large window on the second floor with wooden shutters, and huge, wooden double doors on the first floor leading to the stables. Going inside, there are five stables on the left and four on the right, because where the fifth stall is supposed to be is where the ladder leading to the hay loft is. Right now, we have three Puerto Rican Paso Finos, two American Paints, a Thoroughbred, an Appaloosa, a Clydesdale, and a Palomino Paint. I see my dad at the back of the barn, probably starting to feed the horses.

"Anything I need to do today," I ask. Now, my dad looks like one of those dads you'd imagine having if you were in a movie. He has short, brown, naturally tousled hair, icy blue eyes, a light shadow of facial hair, but not a 5 o'clock, and wrinkles that've etched themselves onto his face because of his age. Right now, he's wearing a white tshirt, a brown riding jacket, dark blue jeans, and light brown cowboy boots that've become dusty from working in them so much.

"Just the usual," he replies, "other than that, I don't need anything else, as long as you do it right."

"Yes sir." Once he walks out, I groom the horses, give them fresh feed and water, and clean the stables. After that, I saddle up Lonestar, one of our Paso Finos that I like to think is mine. Her coat and mane are chocolate brown and snowy white, while her tail is white with a grey tip. The reason we named her Lonestar is because she has lone "star" spots on seperate patches of her coat. She's gentle, kind, obedient, and easy to ride.