The nurse glued my head, which, of course, was super fun. Then she gave me a painkiller and asked me to promise her to be less clumsy next time. I nodded—what else could I do?—thinking deep down it was ridiculous to ask me to be less clumsy. No one chose to be clumsy. It was hardly a trait one tried to excel at.

But sure, I would try to be less clumsy.

Less quiet.

Less of a screw up.

More normal.

Less dead on the inside. Because that’s what it felt like—seeing Knight moving on with another girl.

I needed a drink. And I needed it bad.

Knight had a girlfriend. Of course he had one. Of course. Or he wouldn’t publicly kiss her. Everyone knew the infamous HotHoles weren’t about public displays of affection. Yeah, they were just like their dads had been—hot assholes. Hence the name.

Knight, Vaughn, and Hunter completely disregarded the fairer sex as a concept. Publicly, anyway. Knight didn’t have just any girlfriend, either. Poppy was love material. Beautiful, kind, and sweet. She was probably the reason he’d stopped texting me. God, what a fool I was—telling him I missed him, coaxing him to answer me.

As soon as April and I got back to our room from the nurse, I took out my phone and texted Josh.

Luna: I need a drink.

The message was seen before I could put my phone down.

Josh: Is that your way of accepting my party invitation?

Luna: Yup.

Josh: I have a better idea. Meet me at the stables.

Luna: …

Josh: !!!

Luna: We’re not supposed to be there after hours.

Josh: Didn’t you tell me you want to use teenage as a verb?

Luna: Yes. My stepmom tells me to do that all the time.

Josh: Well, she’s right. Trust me?

Funnily enough, I did. I did trust him. Was it insane that I put my faith in this stranger? Was I going to get burned?

Luna: I’ll be a little bit, but I’ll get there.

I dragged myself to the communal showers. My gut twisted and clenched as the hot stream hit my body, and the Instagram image of Knight kissing Poppy played in my head, on a loop.

I threw up straight into the drain, the sound of the water drowning the retching.

The barn was located behind the main college buildings, on a rolling green hill, surrounded by a low wooden fence, overlooking a water tower. The stable looked almost like an ordinary house, red-roofed and swan white. It nearly glowed in the dark as I pedaled my way toward it. I left my bike propped against the fence and hopped over. A trickle of fear slithered in my empty stomach. Everything was dark, silent, and deserted.

I’d always been shy and reserved, but never cautious. I was actually a tomboy. Edie had taught me how to swim and surf at a young age. Dad encouraged me to loosen up and take risks. He’d signed me up for a martial arts class so I could defend myself, but told me not to be scared of boys, so I never was.

I knew Dad would cheer for me, had he known I was meeting Josh.

Edie would be elated.

But Knight? He would be angry. Furious. Betrayed. Even though Josh was exactly what I needed. Maybe if I’d taken more risks, met more Joshes and Aprils in my life, Knight and I would be together today. But then I’d never have met Josh and April at all, never left home in the first place.

Knight wanted to keep me small and his, and the dumbass that I was—I’d let him have his way.

But not anymore.

I was drained from collecting small pieces of romantic moments like shattered glass, tired of brief encounters with my best friend: half-finished kisses, friendly hugs that lingered. His hot erection pressing against my leg one dawn, shortly before I went to college, while we slept together. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt his erection, but it was the first time he hadn’t pulled away. We’d both opened our eyes at the same time and stared at each other for a beat, his penis twitching against the side of my thigh. He’d thrust once before he turned away from me with a lazy smile. Stretching. Yawning. Denying what had just happened.

But Josh wasn’t like that. Josh didn’t have enough baggage to keep an airport busy.

I jammed my hands into the pockets of my blue All Saints hoodie (the only thing I’d found that was relatively clean) and jogged to the barn. I closed the door behind me, relishing the warmth of the animals, so big and hot in their stalls, radiating heat.

The minute I entered the barn, I heard something crunching and released a breath. I knew it was Josh’s way of showing me he was here. He couldn’t talk, but he still found ways to communicate with me. He stood on the other side of the stable, next to the stall of a beautiful, black Arabian horse named Onyx. He was the youngest horse in the barn and always requested extra petting time whenever I was there cleaning or feeding the horses.

I surprised myself by launching at Josh, suffocating him with a hug. Only when I was in his arms did I realize how much I needed that hug, how I craved to be put back together after being broken by a simple picture.

When I pulled away, I blinked.

Josh lifted his hand between us, holding a bottle of Everclear.

“Say hello to your date.” He winked.

“That’s it? Not even dinner? Straight to business?” I signed, grinning.

“What are you implying?” His eyes bulged.

“Nothing. What are you implying?” I chuckled.

This was fun. Easy.

He laughed and shook his head, producing a bottle of cranberry juice from behind him and two Solo cups. He poured a shot of alcohol into each, then filled them with cranberry juice. He unlocked his phone and put on a tune. The band was called Drum Kithead. The singer had a voice like liquid lava, and Josh bobbed his head with a small smile, not an ounce of bitterness in him, clinking his glass with mine.

“We’re riding this evening.”

I didn’t want to refuse him—not when he was the only person I could stand to be with right now. I took a sip of my drink. It was horrible, but I ignored the burn scorching my throat.

“Bareback,” he added, causing me to choke on my drink.

“Because it’s more natural and stuff,” he explained.

“I don’t know how to ride.”

“I’ll teach you. You’ll be a natural.”

“How do you know?”

He looked at me with eyes so full, I didn’t doubt he really saw me through them.

“Because you’re always on your bike. You already have the balance. The core.”

We finished our drinks and led Onyx outside. I knew what we were doing was wrong, and that if the owners found out, they’d behead Josh and fire me from my volunteer work. But it was difficult to deny ourselves things when we already felt so robbed—robbed of our voices, our ability to speak our minds, robbed of being normal.

He mounted me on the horse and climbed atop, settling behind me. Josh communicated with Onyx by pressing his boot to the horse’s side or tapping its head. Adrenaline rushed through my veins. Onyx was huge, but gentle. Josh’s chest bumped into my back as Onyx galloped forward, and I heard my friend hissing voicelessly behind me. Josh’s groin bumped against my behind. Again and again and again. Until it stopped bumping and started…grinding. Not on purpose, I don’t think. I swallowed, trying to decode what I was feeling.

Offended? No.

Annoyed? Not that, either.