Николас Спаркс - The Longest Ride

Or, more accurately, he would be warned never to ride again.

He was okay, though. It was a close call – too close – but he’d survived. He’d take a few days off regardless of the approaching season, and as he limped back to his house, he tried to put a positive spin on it. He’d been practicing hard, and a break might do him good. When he came back, he’d probably be stronger than ever. But despite his attempts to reassure himself, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that dogged his every step.

And what was he going to tell Sophia?

Two days later, he still wasn’t sure. He went to visit her at Wake, and as they walked the campus byways in the late hours of the night, Luke kept his hat on to hide the bruising on his forehead. He considered telling her about the accident but was afraid of the questions she would ask and where they would lead. Questions he had no answers to. Finally, when she asked him why he was so quiet, he pleaded exhaustion over the long hours at the ranch – truthfully enough, as his mother had decided to bring the cattle to market in advance of bull-riding season, and they’d spent a couple of grueling days roping and herding the cattle onto trucks.

But by then, he suspected that Sophia knew him well enough to sense that he wasn’t himself. When she showed up at the ranch the following weekend wearing the hat he’d bought her and a thick down jacket, she seemed to be evaluating him as they readied the horses, though she said nothing at the time. Instead, they made the same ride they had on their first day together, through the stands of trees, toward the river. Finally, she turned toward him. “Okay, enough of this,” she announced. “I want to know what’s bothering you. You’ve been… off all week long.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m still a little tired.” The bright sunlight drove knife blades into his skull, aggravating the constant headache he’d had since he’d been thrown.

“I’ve seen you tired before. It’s something else, but I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“I’m just thinking about next weekend. You know, first event of the year and all.”

“In Florida?”

He nodded. “Pensacola.”

“I’ve heard it’s pretty there. White sand beaches.”

“Probably. Not that I’ll see any of them. I’ll drive back after the event on Saturday.” He thought back to his practice yesterday, his first since the accident. It had gone pretty well – his balance seemed unaffected – but the pounding in his head forced him to quit after forty minutes.

“It’ll be late.”

“This one’s in the afternoon. I should be back around two or so.”

“So… I can see you on Sunday, then?”

He tapped his hand against his thigh. “If you come out here. But I’ll probably be wiped out.”

She squinted at him from under the brim of her hat. “Gee, don’t sound so excited about it.”

“I want to see you. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to come over.”

“Are you going to come to campus instead? Do you want to hang out at the sorority house?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then would you like to meet somewhere else?”

“Dinner with my mom, remember?”

“Then I’ll come here.” She waited for a response, growing frustrated when he said nothing at all. In time, she turned in her saddle to face him. “What’s gotten into you? It’s like you’re mad at me.”

It was the perfect opportunity to tell her everything. He tried to find the words, but he didn’t know how to begin. I’ve been meaning to tell you that I could die if I keep riding.

“I’m not mad at you,” he hedged. “I’m just thinking about the season ahead and what I have to do.”

“Right now?” She sounded doubtful.

“I think about it all the time. And I’ll be thinking about it through the whole season. And just so you know, I’ll be traveling a lot starting next weekend.”

“I know,” she said with unusual sharpness. “You told me.”

“When the tour heads west, I might not even make it home most weeks until late Sunday night.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not going to be seeing me as often, and when we are together, you’ll be distracted?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Probably.”

“That’s no fun.”

“What else can I do?”

“How about this? Try not to think about your event next weekend right now. Let’s just try to enjoy ourselves today, okay? Since you’re going to be traveling? Since I’m not going to see you as much? It might be our last full day together for a while.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

“What’s not like that?”

“I can’t just ignore what’s coming,” he said, his voice rising. “My life isn’t like yours. It’s not about going to classes and hanging out on the quad and gossiping with Marcia. I live in the real world. I have responsibilities.” He heard her gasp but pressed on, growing more righteous with every word. “My job is dangerous. I’m rusty, and I know I should have practiced more this past week. But I have to do well starting next weekend, no matter what, or my mom and I are going to lose everything. So of course I’m going to think about it – and yes, I’m going to be distracted.”

She blinked, taken aback by his tirade. “Wow. Someone’s in a bad mood today.”

“I’m not in a bad mood,” he snapped.

“You could have fooled me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

For the first time, her expression hardened and he heard her struggling to keep her voice steady. “You could have said that you wanted to see me on Sunday, even if you were tired. You could have said that even though you might be distracted, that I shouldn’t take it personally. You could have apologized and said, ‘You’re right, Sophia. Let’s just enjoy today.’ But instead, you tell me that what you do – in the real world – isn’t like going to college.”

“College isn’t the real world.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she cried.

“Then why are you so mad that I said it?” he countered.

She tugged the reins, forcing Demon to a halt. “Are you kidding?” she demanded. “Because you’re acting like a jerk! Because you’re implying that you have responsibilities, but I don’t. Can you even hear yourself?”

“I was just trying to answer your question.”

“By insulting me?”

“I wasn’t insulting you.”

“But you still think that what you do is more important than what I do?”

“It is more important.”

“To you and your mom!” she shouted. “Believe it or not, my family is important to me, too! My parents are important! Getting an education is important! And yes, I do have responsibilities. And I feel pressure to be successful, just like you do. I have dreams, too!”

“Sophia…”

“What? Now you’re ready to be civil? Well, you know what? Don’t bother. Because the reality is that I drove up here to spend time with you, and all you’re doing is trying to pick a fight!”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight,” he mumbled.

But she wasn’t hearing him. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “Why are you acting like this? What’s going on with you?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say, and Sophia watched him, waiting, before shaking her head in disappointment. With that, she jerked the reins and turned Demon, prodding him into a canter. As she disappeared in the direction of the stables, Luke sat alone amid the trees, wondering why he couldn’t find the courage to tell her the truth.

22

Sophia

“So you just rode off and left him?” Marcia asked.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Sophia replied, propping her chin in her hands. Marcia sat beside her as she lay on her bed. “By then, I was so angry, I could barely look at him.”