Chapter 18

Cellie had never kissed anyone. That doesn't mean she didn't know who she wanted to kiss, though. Even at five years old, she'd figured that out, believe it or not. There was this girl on her floor in their apartment building, and Cellie would perform cartwheels and other tricks just to catch her eye. It never worked; they never became friends or even exchanged names. But it was then that Cellie realized she was different from other girls. She craved their admiration and yearned for them to see her with the same appreciation they had for boys.

She was slowly getting used to openly embracing her identity without guilt, but it wasn't due to shame—she liked who she was and wouldn't change it for anything. It was just a different experience altogether.

Cellie got into the habit of masking her true feelings with humor and a smile, secretly adoring girls from a distance. Yuri manga hidden behind schoolbooks and pirated low-quality movies on her laptop became her comfort zone as she coped with these growing emotions. That's not to say she never tried to be honest about her feelings. At 16, mustering the courage drawn straight from her favorite manga stories, she confessed to a close friend. Unfortunately, though not shamed, Cellie faced a firm rejection as the girl affirmed her heterosexuality, clouding Cellie's lone romantic gesture in deep embarrassment.

And so, she faded into the background, watching as the girls she desired swooned over boys from the academy nearby. If there were others like her, they too were hidden away or simply didn't catch her interest.

One notable incident happened when Kaasen discovered Cellie's Yuri stash while cleaning one day when Cellie was 17. Influenced by western ideas but focused on achieving success with the Games team internationally, Cellie came home to find Kaasen teary-eyed over tea. They had a heart-wrenching conversation focused mainly on the absence of future grandchildren. Being an only child, Cellie knew how much her parents anticipated her fulfilling the cultural expectation of marriage and family life. For the first time, she felt she'd truly let them down but remained steadfast in her identity, continuing to shine publicly while craving emotional connection in private.

Her sexuality didn't come up again between them; neither did questions about boyfriends stumble into their conversations.

America had been almost a revelation for Cellie. She knew western countries generally accepted diverse lifestyles more freely than Japan did. Amanda's overt sexuality seemed overwhelming at first but adjusting quickly—priding herself on adaptability—Cellie found a level of comfort she'd never experienced back home. Though unlikely ever to be as bold as Amanda, Cellie had settled into an ease that Japan never afforded her.

Despite everything, her attention was still mostly on Chariot, the Games team, and her role as a student at Stargate Equestrian. However, Cellie had to admit one undeniable truth: she found the girls here much prettier and didn't feel guilty about admiring them.

The Appleton team wasn't as bad as Cellie initially feared. Even though they were trailing after the first day—Appleton had six wins while Stargate Equestrian only had four—the guys didn't gloat or act superior. Well, except for Andrew. Susie had warned her about him beforehand and although Cellie tried to keep an open mind, she quickly realized that Susie was spot on. He was arrogant and outspoken, constantly flaunting his Arabian horse ("I imported him from Dubai," he'd mention unsolicited) when it outperformed others. Every time he slipped up or lost a head-to-head race, Cellie couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction.

Honestly, he was a jerk.

So, when she leaned against the bar at the Red Stallion for a fresh beer—her second one, having sipped the first cautiously—she stifled a groan as he approached with a cocky grin and determination in his eyes.

"Hey," he said smoothly. "It's Cellie, right?"

She frowned, taking a seat on the barstool and sliding her empty bottle across the bar to signal for another drink. "Cellie," she corrected curtly.

He slipped into the seat next to her without asking for permission. "I'm Andrew," he introduced himself confidently. "Andrew Hanbridge. I don't believe we've met."

He said his name like it was pure gold, expecting it to carry weight in their community, almost like talking to her was a favor.

"Uh-huh," she mumbled disinterestedly. She wished he would take the hint.

When the bartender approached, she nodded to her empty Harp bottle. "Another," she requested.

"I was going to buy your next drink," Andrew interjected, raising his glass of whiskey—straight on ice—and arching an eyebrow.

Cellie simply shrugged and grabbed her cold beer as it slid across the polished bar. "No thanks," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand before pushing away to find her friends instead of sticking around with the conceited guy who clearly had an agenda.

"Wow," he muttered darkly after her. "You're about as polite as Diana."

Diana.

Cellie still couldn't figure out what Diana's issue was. Diana had walked back to the dorms with her one night—a nice if somewhat awkward gesture—but completely ignored Cellie's wave earlier in the day. Cellie had been both surprised and pleased to see her at the Games—the entire Hunt Team actually—since she hadn't expected any of them to be interested in watching. Yet Diana had brushed her off with an odd look and immediately walked away.

Hot one moment, cold the next—typical Diana.

But then she had walked into the Red Stallion (Cellie hadn't expected to see her there) looking like a model straight out of a J. Crew catalog, and Cellie practically had to pick her jaw up off the floor. Since the first time she'd laid eyes on the girl during her very first week, Cellie had been trying to resist a crush (nicknaming her Barn Hottie before learning her name). Yet every time the girl appeared, it seemed as if she looked ten times better than before. The last thing Cellie needed was another silly crush on a straight girl.

Still, she couldn't shake the peculiar tension between them. Was it hate or did Diana want to be friends? Earlier, when Cellie had glanced up from her conversation with Susie, she found Diana staring at her—or maybe right through her—without acknowledgement, which left Cellie confused. Turning back to Susie, Cellie blurted out, "I don't get it, what's Diana's problem?"

Susie shrugged indifferently and said, "Don't know, don't care."

But Cellie cared. She wanted to get along with everyone.

So she shrugged off Andrew and strode to the end of the bar where Diana sat staring into an untouched drink, looking completely out of place among the buzzing groups of friends.

"Quick question," Cellie began, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her beer bottle against her waist. "What's your deal?"

Diana jumped—as if she hadn't expected anyone near her in a crowded bar—and spilled her drink slightly. Cellie felt a little guilty; maybe she should have started with a simple "Hey," but the question had slipped out.

Diana brushed the back of her hand on her jeans and fixed startled blue eyes on Cellie. "Pardon?"

"One minute you're nice to me; the next you act like I don't exist and give me the cold shoulder. What's that about?" Arms still crossed, Cellie sipped from her bottle.

"I don't understand what you mean," Diana said. "I wasn't aware I ever did anything like that."

The patron next to Diana pushed his empty pint across the bar and stood to leave. Eyeing the vacant seat with temptation but not acting on it, Cellie continued, "I waved at you earlier because I thought it was cool you were there and you totally ignored me."

Diana blinked and traced the rim of her glass with her fingers. "I thought you were waving at Avery."

"Who's Avery?"

"Oh."

Diana turned away and finally sipped her drink. This interaction was quickly veering into awkward territory much more than Cellie intended. She took another swig of beer and let her arms drop to her sides while scanning around the pub. Her friends were all busy. Jasmine and Susie were playing pool with some guys from Appleton; Charlotte was chatting with Frank and Missy; Amanda was locked in an increasingly loud debate with Andrew.

"You can sit if you want," Diana mumbled.

Cellie blinked at Diana, whose uncertain blue eyes met hers. Diana appeared somewhat lonely, and Cellie had come to clear things up—

"Alright," she said, nodding slightly as she settled onto the bar stool. She had no clue what to say now that she was here; she had anticipated some sort of defensive argument or—well, truthfully, she hadn't thought that far ahead. "Sorry. About the, uh, mix-up. Did you enjoy watching? I know it's probably not as exciting as jumping or anything—"

"No, it was really great," Diana quickly responded. Her eyes briefly scanned Cellie's face before returning forward. "I only saw a bit, but maybe tomorrow I can see more. You said there were two days, right?"

Cellie nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay."

What a conversation starter. Cellie lifted her beer and took a long drink.

"Are you ready for the Hippotherapy exam this week?"

She then spluttered some of her beer out.

"There's a test this week?" Cellie moaned, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and setting her beer back on the bar. "Are you serious? Since when?"

Diana glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and frowned. "It's on Tuesday."

Cellie buried her face in her hands. No, she had no clue about any Hippotherapy exam. In fact, she hadn't even looked at the syllabus that likely contained all the exam dates. She groaned in frustration. "This sucks. Now I'll have to spend all night tomorrow studying!"

"I… have a pretty detailed study guide," Diana said after a pause and a long sip of her drink, hesitating as she spun her phone on the bar for a moment before adding, "I could uh, send you the link to my Google drive if you want."

"No, no," Cellie quickly replied, shaking her head. "That's okay; I'd feel terrible taking it from you. I'll just study my notes." She didn't know what she was saying since she actually had no notes but definitely didn't want Diana to think she was using her for schoolwork. They were already in an odd space between rivals and acquaintances.

"Oh." Diana turned away and took another big sip of her drink. She seemed… disappointed? Cellie was confused by this reaction—wouldn't Diana want her to adhere to the honor code and do her own work? She just shrugged and gulped down more beer. The first one she'd sipped slowly because she'd been busy bouncing around talking to everyone, but all these awkward silences between herself and Diana made her drink way faster than she'd intended.

"I saw Andrew talking with you," Diana began, her voice uncertain. "Did he want something specific?"

"Oh, him." Cellie made a face and finished her beer. "He seemed like he just wanted to sleep with me. Tried to buy me a drink. Total jerk."

Diana laughed, her ice clinking in her glass as she swirled it around. "He's such an idiot. He rides Jumpers too. Did he brag about his fancy Warmblood?"

"No," Cellie said with a grin. "Just the Arabian he imported from a prince in Dubai."

Diana cackled unexpectedly, covering her mouth with her hand in surprise. She gave herself a moment to laugh before lowering her hand and saying, "Sorry. It's just—I knew it. He tried to impress me with his so-called fleet of racehorses under Aidan O'Brien. I checked; he has two, both in his father's name, and neither has won a maiden race."

Cellie laughed, glancing over at Andrew, who looked bored talking to Barbara. "Hopefully we'll beat them tomorrow. We just made a few silly mistakes today—nothing we can't fix." She shrugged, spinning her empty beer bottle.

"I thought you looked good." Diana glanced at her briefly before looking back at her empty glass. "You were… impressive."

The best rider at Stargate Equestrian calling her impressive? Cellie felt warmth rush to her cheeks as pride swelled within her. She looked down at her fidgeting fingers and muttered, "Oh. Thanks," finally meeting Diana's gaze with a small smile.

Diana stared at the ice in her glass as if willing it to refill magically. Cellie noticed her eyes flicker to the empty beer bottle before she spoke, "Um—can I buy you another?"

Cellie took a deep breath, staring at the few drops left in the bottle. She hadn't planned on another drink—two was already pushing it since she had to ride early in the morning—but sitting at a bar with an attractive girl and having a genuine conversation was unexpected and enticing—

The patron next to her slammed his pint down dramatically, sending ripples across the wooden bar.

"You don't have to do that," Cellie finally said.

"No, I insist," Diana replied, making eye contact with the bartender with a flick of her fingers. The bartender nodded in acknowledgment. "Consider it… an apology for unintentionally confusing you." Diana shrugged and slid her empty glass across the bar as the new drink arrived. "I think I started off wrong; let's make it right."

Diana raised her glass.

With a smile, Cellie grabbed her new beer and clinked their glasses together.