of metal between his big chomping teeth, quickly sliding the rest up and in place, but it was Trent who dipped under his horse's head to fasten the strap. He was taller than me, and I dropped back, reins dangling until Trent took them. He was fussing, making sure the mane was untangled and that the straps weren't twisted. Jeez, I did know how to bridle a horse.
I stood for a moment, not surprised he hadn't said thank you. Giving up, I took a step back. At least I wasn't dizzy anymore. "Jasmine is so mad at me," I said. "I didn't know she liked you. I'm sorry."
Trent turned to me, clearly surprised. My eyes warmed with threatening tears, and I turned away. Someone was calling my name, counselor by the sound of it. Great. They were going to write me up. Sighing, I started for the bright square of light.
"Do you want a ride?" Trent asked.
Wiping my eyes, I turned, shocked. My gaze went from him to the horse. There wasn't a saddle, just that bareback pad. "On him?"
His attention went out of the stables as another voice called my name, loudly, with some anger. Nodding, he grabbed a handful of mane and swung himself up like he was born to it. "If you can get up here."
There was more than a hint of challenge, and I took a step forward, looking up at him and thinking it was a long way from the ground. "You just want to knock me off," I said, mistrusting him. "Or take me out into the woods and leave me to walk in."
Not a hint of his intent was in his placid face as he leaned down and held out his hand. "You'll have to trust me."
The voices were getting louder. Maybe if Jasmine found out I'd been with him, she'd know how it felt to be ditched. It was petty, but taking a breath, I fit my hand in his. I reached up with the other, and with a lean and a tug, I found myself swung up behind him.
The horse shifted, snorting, and as Trent soothed him, I clutched Trent's waist, feeling really weird. My gasp for air brought the scent of cinnamon and green things into me, and my alarm paused at a unique sensation, a twinge of something going through me. Pride, maybe, that I was on a tall horse? The hoof pick was almost falling out of his pocket, and thinking he deserved it, I yanked it free when the horse shifted, tucking it in my own pocket instead. I'd give it back once I knew he wasn't going to dump me off on the trail. It wasn't really stealing if the only reason I took it was to prove I could, right? Better than a crappy little witch, huh?
"Please don't make me regret this," I whispered. Jasmine would never speak to me again if she found out, but I didn't care. His horse was fabulous!
"I won't if you don't," he said, and my grip tightened as the horse started into motion.
Whoever was shouting my name was getting closer, and the horse eagerly headed for the door. "What's his name?" I asked as we emerged blinking into the sun.
"Tulpa, but I call him Mr. T."
I looked over the empty paddock and the fenced field beyond. Two figures were coming up the dirt road, their pace quickening when they saw us. A horse and rider stood waiting where field turned into woods. Stanley. "You named your horse after a flower?" I questioned.
"Tulpa, not Tulip," Trent said. "Hold on. We have to get out of here."
"Hey!" I shouted, grip tightening when he nudged his horse into a smooth canter. But the faster we went, the easier it was, and I found myself leaning forward into Trent. My hair was pushed behind me, and I could hardly breathe. One problem. We were heading for the fence.
"Trent?" I shouted, and he kicked his horse into a faster gait. I reached behind me, making sure the pick wasn't falling out.
"I'm taking it!" he shouted. "Hold on!"
He was going to jump it? Heart pounding, I screwed my eyes shut and put my arms back around Trent. He wanted me to fall. I knew it! Vertigo swam up, and I felt my muscles go weak. It was too much. I knew the signs, but I held on all the tighter. Not this time. I wasn't going to pass out. Adrenaline poured into me, and the