Chapter 3: Life Choices

I wake up. It's morning. I slept through dinner again, unbelievable. It's 5:30 am, time to eat breakfast and head to the stable. The smell of horses first thing in the morning always calms me down.

I ride my bike to my aunt's house. She's about three miles away from me. The morning air feels cool and refreshing. I smell spring and feel the dampness of dew against my face.

The stable has that deep aroma of fresh hay. Carmel, my companion, walks over to me and eats oats from the palm of my hand. I brush the knots out of his mane. I get ready to ride. The saddle feels like home. And off we go.

The backwoods and the large river within them are my favorite places to be. This is my Narnia, away from everyone else. Carmel drinks the water from the stream. I check my watch. Damn, it's almost 7:00 AM.

I take out my breakfast bar and eat it. I wish I weren't hungry. I hate feeling hungry. Hunger equals food. And food equals fat. I toss the breakfast bar in the river and decide not to eat. My body can have water later. I need to lose a few pounds. Selah and Sammy would try to convince me otherwise. But screw them; they aren't here. It's Carmel and me against the world.

I run my fingers through his blonde mane. His tan coat shimmers in the morning sun. He's the perfect Palomino. Carmel is five years old, and my aunt bought him from a retired horse trainer. That's when I became interested in riding. I was ten and dreamt of giving lessons. And here I am still riding Carmel and giving lessons to elementary kids. I am still learning how to ride myself. Elementary kids are willing to listen to me. We come to the back river, my Narnia.

"Time to head home, Carmel," I say. We get back to the stable. Chad is waiting for me in the stable.

"Good morning, Natalie," Chad says.

I blush. I really do love Chad. He's been with me for more than half of my life. But then I remember the text message, the one where he needed to talk soon. I get down from Carmel.

"Hello... Chad," I say with caution.

"You're acting funny," he notices.

"I'm good. Just hungry," I say.

"Listen...Natalie, we've known each other for a long time. And this is really hard to say..." Chad pauses and trails off.

"What, Chad? If you are going to break up with me, just do it already," I say.

"It's not that. Ummm... As you know, my dad lost his job. And my family isn't doing well financially. My parents have been making plans for us and our future. Yesterday, my parents decided that it would be best for everyone if we moved to New York. We will live with my grandparents. We are leaving in a week. This is all happening so fast," Chad stops.

"Well, what does that mean for us?" I ask.

"I don't know, Natalie. I'm willing to try long-distance if you are," Chad says.

"Chad... I really appreciate your wanting to make this work. But we are 15 and 16. Long-distance... that's hard on college couples. How the hell do you see that working out for us?" I ask.

Well, I guess he wasn't going to dump me. But with this news, he might as well have.

"Can we try to make it work?" Chad begs.

I look at him and want to believe we could be one of those high school sweetheart couples. But I don't see that happening.

"Let's enjoy our last week together and give me a day or two to think about this, Chad," I manage to say. He agrees, and I get in his car.

He takes me to school. It's almost summer break. And all the plans I thought I would have with Chad don't matter anymore. All the fun moments I thought we would share are gone now. Taken from us, by a bad situation.

We get to school. And nothing but silence is between us. I'm not mad. I'm not sad. I'm nothing. I'm an empty, hallowed, me... Withering away.

"It's going to be alright, Natalie. You'll see," Chad says.

"Thanks," I say, kissing him quickly. I get out of the car. I put my backpack on. Selah is calling my name, and I pretend I don't hear her.

"Nat, are you deaf?" Selah asks.

"What? Oh, sorry..." I stall.

"What's got you all upset? Did Chad break up with you?" Selah asks.

"Kind of," I say.

"Want to talk about it?" Selah asks.

"Chad's moving away in a week. And wants to do a long-distance relationship. So, we basically are breaking up," I say.

"You don't have to break up with Chad. Unless you want to..." Selah replies.

"I know, Selah. I do. But I'm fifteen. There's no way I can handle that. And can you keep a secret?" I ask. She nods, looking worried.

I roll my sleeve up and show her my bite marks. They are purple, blue, and stupid. Why do I do this to myself? Just thinking about it forces me to dig in my purse. I pull out two large pieces of bubblegum and shove them in my face. Chomp...chomp...chomp...This gum tastes like leather.

"Don't stress about it, Natalie. You are young. If you need to dump Chad, then do it in person while he's here," Selah says.

"Good advice. Maybe so. I'm going to class," I say.

I doodle in my notebook all day. I draw flowers and cats on my English test. Not sure a sunflower doodle was the correct answer to that Shakespeare question. Oh well. I tried.

Art class is something I can get lost in. Mr. Henry has us making amateur pots again. The clay is smooth, wet, and chilly to the touch. It smells like pure earth. I make a pinch pot; it looks like an elementary 3rd grader designed it. The feeling of clay in my hands makes me feel like I have control over something. I don't have control of my dating life, my body image, or my dumb family. It's nice to be in control for once.

"You okay, Nat?" Mr. Henry asks.

"Yeah, why?" I ask.

"The bell rang 30 minutes ago. Don't you want to go home?" He asks.

"Not really. Can I stay ten more minutes and finish this pot?" I ask.

"Sure, here's soda for when you're done. If you ever need to chat. You can always find me," he says.

"Thanks, Mr. Henry," I say. He leaves the room.

I finish the pot. It looks pathetic. This pot is how I feel. It's how the world feels to me right now. I place the pot on the drying rack and head to the sink. I look in the mirror next to the sink. The ugly duckling I've become glares back at me. I feel the daggers of my own judgment staring back at me from the mirror. Without thinking, I go back to the drying rack and grab my pot. I throw it as hard as I can in the mirror. The pot shatters around me, and the mirror cracks down the middle. Luckily, it's Friday, and no one is here to judge my stupid life choices.