I wanted to spend every waking minute at the barn. But when I started my Junior year, I knew that was the year I needed to excel in school; it would be the year that would set up my whole life. I had to get a good SAT score and GPA so that I could get into a good college. Ignoring boys was easy; ignoring Moonshine was not. I decided that when I wasn’t at the farm, I would not be there mentally, either. When I barricaded myself in my room to study, I would study—no more staring out the window, daydreaming about making it big with Moonshine. I soon realized that controlling my mind was one of the hardest things I had ever done. How do I not think about what I wanted most?
The morning of the SAT soon came. I couldn’t remember ever being so anxious. I had found a good seat in the classroom, close enough to the door but not too close. Once seated, I couldn’t stop tapping my pencil and wagging my crossed leg. I had never been so jumpy, not even at my biggest horse show. I had been judged by famous and respected judges, I had ridden in front of an Olympic trainer, and I wasn’t nearly as nervous then as I was that day. What’s the big deal? I reasoned with myself, it’s just a test, like everyone keeps saying. No, actually it’s not. This test will shape the rest of my life. This test will either let me go to a good school and get a good job so I can have horses when I’m older, or not. Stop that! I scolded myself, Are you trying to freak out before the SATs and totally ruin your life? I had to get up and walk around, work off some of the energy that was building. I was in my seat too early anyway, I had a half hour.
The exam was being held in the school’s library, at the school’s top level. I just went down the stairs to the school’s rotunda, and walked a small circle. I went up and down the stairs a few times. It felt good to move a little bit, I felt like I was at the start line of a major race, I had enough energy to run a marathon. I stretched all of my limbs, and took a few deep breaths.
OK, now I’m ready, I studied. I’m ready. I avoided eye contact with everyone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I stared straight ahead as I ascended the steps. Then, I spotted my chair in the library and walked directly to it. I sat down, picked up my pencil, and put my left hand to my forehead as a shield against anyone’s gaze. I was not about to talk to anyone now that I had mentally prepared myself for the test.
The exam passed quickly once it began. It was challenging, but fair. My mother was waiting in the car outside, to take me to the farm.
“How was it?” she asked once I was in the car.
“I don’t want to jinx it, but not bad,” I said, prompting her to smile. I knew she wanted to know more, but I had recently come up with a rule that I wouldn’t discuss major tests until I had the score back, because I was afraid I would jinx it. Living with my mother had finally made me superstitious, like she was. At least she would think I was just superstitious and wasn’t failing.
“Do you want to drive?” she asked.
“Not today,” I replied, not because I didn’t want to drive. I always wanted to drive. I just didn’t want to deal with her gasping and flinching in the passenger seat all the way to the farm.
Everyone at the farm wanted to talk about my SAT, except me. I kept my responses short, but polite. This was the only slightly annoying thing about knowing so many people who knew so much about me—they wanted to talk about everything going on in my life. I just wanted to be left alone.
Carol was the only one who would just ask once and never pried into any part of my life. I loved her for that. She was the only person who seemed to understand me entirely. I returned the favor—unlike a lot of her other students, I never asked her about her marriage, her horse, her hopes and dreams. If she wanted to volunteer some information about her life, that was different. Our world together never changed. It was always all about horses.