Author's Note: Congratulations to AliLoverr, Mylo9810 and Caliebabi! Their descriptions were picked. Sorry, I couldn't get in it last week, I had so many things going on.
I flashed my eyes open, when I heard someone call my name. I then realized it was a woman's voice, not Dirk's, unless he underwent some surgery that made his voice sound like a woman's, then I doubt it was him. I then quickly realized that I still had my clothes on that I came in with, I put on the shirt over my own shirt -- it was white so it didn't show through the thin, red material. I grabbed the skinny jeans and pulled them up over my own, I then realized they were the same color so I quickly pulled them off and left my own on.
I tumbled down the stairs still feeling a little out of it, taking it one step at a time. I secretly hoped that my new parents wouldn't think that I was drunk, that I had just woken up.
"Hello Camille," said the woman. She was tall - at least six feet. She looked like she was in her early forties, but her face showed all kinds of emotions. She had laugh lines, angry lines -- all kinds of lines. Those brought out her face, it made her beautiful. Her eyes were a lovely shade of green, and her hair was brown with a little bit of gray and was curly ending at her chin.
"Hello, Mrs. Larson . . . I . . . well . . . I go by Ellie," I said, being careful of my wording. I seriously wanted to threaten her that if she ever called me Camille again, and punch her in the face and make one her have a punch line beside her laugh lines.
"I'm Madison, but you can call me Mom," said well . . . Mom. She held out her hand and I could barely reached it. Her grab was very gentle -- almost too gentle to be shaking mine. She was kind, gentle and sympathetic, and it irritated me.
"My name is Garrett," said the man. I decided that I liked him, he never said I had to call him Dad unlike . . . Mom. Garrett like, Mom, was also tall. He had shaggy dark blonde hair with gray tints, his shinny blue eyes light up his whole face.
"Hi . . . um . . . thanks for the clothes," I said after moments of silence.
"It was no problem at all," said Mom.
More moments of silence passed us until Garrett, er, Dad finally spoke.
"As you can tell we live on a farm . . ."
I rolled my eyes. Dude, I have eyes I've seen farms before . . . in picture books.
"and because of that you'll be helping us on the farm."
"What?!" I had totally zoomed out until the last half of the last sentence.
"You'll be helping us on the farm," Dad repeated.
"What would you like to take care of?" asked Mom kindly.
"I don't know."
"I sometimes take care of the horses, and chickens, but I milk the cows, cook the food and clean, but Dad is the one who mostly takes care of the rest of the farm," she told me.
"I've always liked horses," I said.
"Great!" said Dad. "You'll start tomorrow."
________________________________________________________________________________________________
City life was always easy for me. I had street smarts. If a suspicious guy was walking behind me I'd walk faster and go into a busy sidewalk. When I entered a bus I'd always sit close to the driver. If I felt like someone was following me I'd go somewhere busy and tell a police officer if they kept doing it. But none of my street smarts would ever prepare me for what I had to do at the farm.
I'd always seen girls and their horses on TV all the time. The girls would come close to the horse and pet them while the horse seems to love them back.
I'll just say . . . it doesn't work.
On the farm my parents owned three horses, a copper brown horse, named Aspen, a pure black horse named Melody, and a appaloosa named Jessie--all girls. They all hung around a grassy area on our land. Aspen was the horse that struck me that most. I walked towards her like the girls on TV did and put my hand on her neck and pet it. Aspen didn't like that I soon found out, and decided to chase me. So I ran away from her but horses run fast - she caught up with me really soon, it wasn't like on TV when the horse is right behind the girl. Aspen stopped chasing me when Dad whistled and somehow made Aspen stop.
"Ellie, have you ever seen a horse before?" asked Dad.
"I have."
"Where?"
"TV," I said.
I walked over to where Mom was, she was milking the cows.
"How was it?" she asked.
"Um . . . you know it . . . it . . . was good. Aspen runs fast."
"Yes she is. She was a racing horse before Garrett - Dad - bought her."
"Oh," I stared to where Mom's hands were.
She looked at me, then her hands, "Want to try?"
I nodded.
Mom got up from her stool and I sat down.
"Put your hands around it like this," she put her hands around each other.
I did what she told me too.
"Now, squeeze."
I squeeze then the cow jumped and squealed.
"Bessie Girl! Shh . . . you're okay," Mom said softly.
"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to do that!"
"You're okay Ellie. Go tell your father to drive you to Freddie's."
Right . . . Freddie's. I had totally forgotten about that. I walked over back to where the horses were, Dad was riding Jessie.
"Dad!" I called.
"What is it?" he asked riding towards me.
"You need to take me to Freddie's."
"Hop on," he said making room for me on the horse.
"Uh . . . no."
Dad got off and let Jessie fly free. "She always comes home," he said to the response on my worried face. "Let's go." I followed him to wherever we were going.
They owned a car. I never thought that I'd ever see a car here, besides Megan's when I rode in it to get here, but it was one of those cars that are all the Cash for Clunkers commercials on TV. An old powder blue truck.
I climbed in the passenger seat as Dad started the car. I would not believer how far away we are from town, it took us a little under an hour.
Freddie's wasn't the kind of haircut places you would see in LA, it had one of those barber poles that are white with red stripes. I jumped out of the truck and walked to Freddie's with Dad behind me.
"You Camille?" asked a girl with the lightest blonde hair ever imaginable.
"Yeah, I'm Camille."
"Hey Lee!" Dad called from behind me.
"Long time no see Garrett."
I looked at Dad. Was he having an affair with her? That was so common in LA, but here?
"Lee and I were classmates all through school . . . and we dated. Yes, Mad - Mom - knows."
Lee lead me to a chair. I was the only person in there, besides Dad and Lee.
"What you like?" she asked playing with my hair.
"I don't know, I didn't even want my hair to change."
"Ah, that's right. You that girl we need to completely change."
I could barely understand her cowboy language, but I merely nodded.
Lee's hands were lightening fast, she was done in no time. I didn't care what she did, it wasn't like I was going to like it anyway. When she told me to put contacts in, I did.
"Like it?" she asked.
I looked at the small handheld mirror she gave me.
It wasn't me. My hair was auburn, like my real mom and my sky blue eyes too. Before this my hair was up to my shoulders now, instead it is on top of my stomach, with choppy layers with side bangs. She dyed my hair was well, it was a dark golden brown with honey blonde tips, but I was glad that she kept my side bangs. My eyes were now hazel.
Dad walked over to where I was, "I like it," he said. Then he walked back over to a guy and started talking to him again. My eyes inspected the kid who was about my age. He looked at me with his warm blue eyes eyes and smiled, I smiled back. He then looked at my Dad and talked to him some more.
I melted into pieces inside, he was gorgeous. I had always thought guys were idiots, but this one was different. His auburn hair was the same color mine used to be, and the front of it was spiked up. I love it. When Lee was finished with my hair, Dad paid for it then he spoke.
"Hey, what are you doing today?" he asked after Dad had walked out.
"I don't know, why?"
"I want to hang out with you sometime."
"Do you even know who I am?" I asked.
"Of course I do. The whole town has been waiting for your arrival. You're Camille, the girl Madison and Garret toke in."
"Oh," I said. "By the way, I go by Ellie."
"Alright, Ellie. Would you like to get to know a horse and ride it?" he asked taking my hand.
"I would love to," I replied not caring if we had only met and he was holding my hand. "Wait, what is your name?"
"Nathaniel, but I go by Nathan."
"Nathan, I love that name," I said and then we walked out of Freddie's into the beautiful multicolored sunset.
Author's Note: Thank you for everyone who participated in the contest, a couple weeks ago! Here is one more. Contest 1: What is Nathan's horse look like? What is it's name. Is it a boy or a girl? Same rules apply as last time, but the subject of the y-mail should be Nathan's Horse. The contest ends, Tuesday, December 29th. (Yes, 2009 not 2010.)
