Chapter 10

Much to Diana's relief, Hannah and Barbara decided to head out after an excruciatingly tense and awkward session with Miss Meridien. They appeared terrified of her, as if she might explode at them again at any moment for their childish antics earlier that day. Frankly, they had every reason to be, because she hadn't even come close to giving them the scolding she'd been planning all day long.

Determined to stay out of her firing range, they made sure to keep Cello and Belle well away from her whenever they regrouped in the arena for instructions from their oblivious coach. Diana had tried to catch Cellie for an apology after Hippotherapy, but the girl bolted from the room as though she'd sat on a hot stove. Lost in the crowd, Diana had no choice but to save her apology for another time.

With the house finally to herself, Diana brewed a fresh pot of tea and settled contentedly into her favorite leather armchair in the living room—a chair that once belonged to her father and still bore the imprint of his body despite years of neglect. The floor lamp beside it was an old handpicked gem from Hitchens Manor, casting just the right amount of soft light for reading, studying, and general relaxation. It had been one of Diana's favorites since childhood.

Setting her steaming cup of tea on the side table, she reclined in her chair and opened the book she had been engrossed in over the past week. She probably should have been studying or reviewing notes, but rare moments alone in the house were meant for unwinding. Typically, her reading material wasn't anything most would consider enjoyable—certainly not fiction—but she had a weakness for true crime mysteries that allowed her mind to wander.

She hadn't read long—just about a chapter—when her phone vibrated across the table. Great, someone probably needed tutoring or maybe Hannah and Barbara were sending another half-hearted apology. After taking a sip of tea (no way she was letting it get cold), she picked up her phone and checked her messages.

Hey, Diana. Can we talk?

Instantly, her stomach knotted. Her jaw clenched and her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she stared down at the message and its sender—Chloe.

Diana took a deep breath, leaning her head back against the plush leather of the chair. Her moment of relaxation had been completely shattered. She slammed her book shut and tossed it onto the table, sinking into anxiety as she stared at her mobile, the screen still illuminated on her lap. She reviewed the text history displayed on the page.

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Chloe 23:17

I was just thinking about you, would you want to talk?

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Diana 07:32

Not really, no.

Chloe 09:57

I miss you. I really just wanted to apologize for everything. I'm not asking for you to take me back or even forgive me for everything I did to you, but I owe you that much.

Diana 10:03

That's great.

Chloe 10:04

Look, can I just... call you? Please?

Diana 10:07

I have nothing to say to you.

Chloe 10:07

Ok.

September 07, 2018

Chloe 01:52

Come on babe can we just talk a little I really want to work this out I miss u

Diana 05:20

First, I am not your "babe" and have not been for months. Second, there is absolutely nothing to work out. Third, please refrain from sending me drunk texts at 2 AM.

Chloe 09:52

Sorry.

September 19, 2018

Chloe 19:08

Hey, Diana. Can we talk?

"No, we can't talk," Diana muttered aloud, squeezing her eyes shut. Another text quickly followed.

Chloe 19:11

Please? I'm sorry about that text the other week.

With a pounding heart, Diana quickly typed out a response.

Diana 19:12

I have no interest in talking to you.

Chloe 19:12

And yet you're still texting me back.

Diana forcefully pushed the footrest of her armchair down and stood, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. Naturally, Diana replied to Chloe's text—her character wouldn't allow otherwise. Chloe's ex was just stirring up drama with her usual manipulative tactics.

Chloe 19:14

I'm sorry about everything I've done.

Sure, Chloe's apology seemed sincere. But after cheating on Diana—with a guy, no less—and brushing it off as a drunken mistake because Diana wasn't around, it was hard to believe.

"I was lonely and it just happened. Maybe if you hadn't gone to school across the country, I wouldn't have been at that party and nothing would've happened," Chloe had cried over the phone, shifting the blame onto Diana.

As if it was Diana's fault that Chloe: a) couldn't control her drinking, b) lacked self-discipline, and c) cheated on her with some random guy at Oxford. Diana contemplated deleting Chloe's number but realized it wouldn't matter since she knew it by heart. They'd been together for almost two years; cutting someone out completely wasn't as easy as it seemed.

She remembered advising Barbara at the start of their first semester at Stargate Equestrian:

"Just block his number, Barbs. He's not worth your time or stress."

Barbara had been with her boyfriend for four years then. Only through her ordeal with Chloe did Diana understand the difficulty of such advice.

She had told Chloe she loved her, come out to her extended family for her, sacrificed weekends meant for stable time with Beatrix or friends to visit Oxford—all to keep the relationship thriving on her end, something she couldn't fathom compromising as Chloe did.

Diana 19:21

Not interested. Goodbye, Chloe.

Chloe 19:21

Diana, please...

Enough was enough. She stormed into her bedroom, tossed her phone onto the bed, shut the door behind her, and returned to the living room. Planting herself back into her armchair, she reached for her MacBook.

Would you like to restore your Google session?

Oh right, she had forgotten to charge it and now it had died. There was probably something vital she needed for class or another research task...

International Mounted...

Cellie Garcia – Google Search

Oh.

Right.

She had spent quite a bit of time exploring Mounted Games online, watching various videos she could find and eventually stumbling upon the International Association website. The sport appeared fascinating, to say the least—dangerous, fast-paced, and entertaining, with a level of athleticism that rivaled the more intense equestrian disciplines.

Cellie—yes, Cellie—proved a more challenging search. Most information on the other girl was in Japanese, a language she didn't understand and couldn't translate properly. Russian, French (including Luxembourgish), German, Italian, Dutch, and Mandarin (an extracurricular in her sixth form), sure. But not Japanese.

What she did manage to uncover were a few pictures on Google Images and even a video. Diana returned to her image search, enlarging two pictures of Cellie. In one, Cellie was hanging off the side of Chariot—who was galloping at full speed—with her tail streaming behind her and ears pinned back in the effort of speed. Cellie's hand was either delving into or withdrawing from a bucket; Diana couldn't be certain from the image.

The second picture showed Cellie and three teammates beaming as they held a gold cup together. They all wore matching shirts—white with a prominent red circle on the front—and their ponies stood obediently in the background. Chariot's nose nudged over Cellie's shoulder, evoking a smile from Diana.

Undoubtedly, Cellie was the most vibrant member of the team. Her broad smile exuded confidence unmatched by her three counterparts. Her brown hair spilled wildly from beneath her jockey helmet, with a long ponytail draped over her shoulder.

The photos were from the 2016 Internationals where Cellie's team represented Japan and took first place in the Junior Master's Division.

She navigated back to the video she found which featured Cellie prominently as she and Chariot effortlessly dominated their competition. Suddenly, the front door burst open; Diana quickly slammed her MacBook shut, wincing as the audio continued momentarily: "It's Japan and France fighting for first place; both have one more rider—"