Palmer stretched, exhaling, as Arthur handed her her headband. She took it and put it on, then thanked him.

"No thanks necessary," Arthur said, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, his black curly hair bouncing in the wind, "Are you sure this is what you should be doing right now? Shouldn't you be...I don't know...resting?"

"No. I need to stay occupied. Focused. Anything to take my mind off everything," Palmer said, as she stared at the girl stretching beside her. Her name was Anita Cook, and Palmer hated her with a passion, but she couldn't understand why. She looked back at Arthur and nodded.

"Alright, well, I'm gonna take a seat, get some work done while you run," Arthur said.

"You don't wanna go to the library or something?" Palmer asked.

"Nah, the fresh air will do me good," Arthur said, turning and heading back to the bleachers. Palmer was incredibly grateful to have Arthur as a friend right now, and she wasn't sure how she would've gotten through the last month without him, honestly. Palmer then looked back at the track ahead of her, and waited for the whistle to ring into the air. As soon as it did, she and Anita took off like a shot, quickly outpacing every other runner there.

                                                                              ***

Dodie was standing near her appointed horse in the stables, trying to lift his hooves so she could clean them. Unfortunately, she was still not strong enough. Thankfully, her partner - a teenage girl named Sarah - was there, and she smiled and easily lifted the horses hoof. Dodie knelt and started scraping the stuff from between his shoes.

"Thank you," Dodie said quietly.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah asked.

"...empty," Dodie finally said after a moment of hesitation, "I don't feel good. I don't feel much of anything. I just miss my dad."

"I'm sure. I'm so sorry," Sarah said, letting the horses leg down as Dodie stood back up and put the tool back on the wall, then picked up a small brush and started to combing the horses mane.

"I like working with Gus, but I only get to do it once a week," Dodie said, "I'd love to own him, but mom doesn't wanna pay for a stable spot, and vet stuff."

"Understandable, a horse is a pretty pricey pet," Sarah said, "but isn't it nice that you get to do this once a week at least?"

"I guess," Dodie said, shrugging.

Sarah felt bad. Ever since her fathers death, Dodie had lost her sense of childlike joy that she used to have, and understandably so, given what had happened. Still, she wished there was some way she could make Dodie feel better. As her partner in their horse training, Sarah often felt partially responsible for the well being of the little girl she was paired with.

"How about, instead of me doing the trail riding this week, you do it?" Sarah asked.

"Really?" Dodie asked, looking up, "but that's for advanced riders."

"Well how you ever gonna become an advanced rider if you don't try it?" Sarah asked.

Dodie smiled for the first time in weeks, and this made Sarah feel better. She could stand to give Dodie one of her trail riding days, if it meant making Dodie feel better. Sarah had never lost either of her parents, so she could only imagine what Dodie must be feeling. She couldn't imagine losing her father so suddenly, and so violently. If horse riding was what distracted Dodie and made her feel better, then Sarah felt like it was the least she could do to help her feel happy again.

                                                                              ***

Palmer was sitting on the bleachers beside Arthur after the race had ended, and she was drinking from her plastic water bottle while Arthur continued doing course work. After a few minutes, he put his pencil down and looked over at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You're pretty fast," Arthur said, "did you ever run before coming to college?"

"I went for the occasional jog, but otherwise no," Palmer said, "I don't know what's really possessed me to take interest in it now, I guess it's just nice to have a hobby that takes place outdoors for a change. Feels like between course work, classes and general hobbies, I spend most of my time indoors."

"All that sitting can't be good for us," Arthur said, reaching behind him and rubbing his lower back, making Palmer chuckle. As they sat there, the girl she'd raced beside, Anita, walked by, checking her nails and not even paying any notice to her surroundings. Palmer felt herself want to shout something mean at her, and couldn't even explain why. She'd never been rude to people for no reason before, especially not other girls. She'd always fancied herself a feminist, always raising other girls up, not putting them down, so this behavior really made her feel bad.

"Ya know," Palmer eventually said, "I wonder if I should actually join the track team."

"You think you're that interested in running?" Arthur asked, making Palmer shrug.

"I mean, what have I got to lose?" Palmer asked, "Besides, give me something physical to do. Exercise is good."

"Is it?"

"That's what I'm told."

Arthur smirked, Palmer herself smiling as she took another long sip from her water bottle. She had never been a part of any teams or clubs in high school, but she could certainly use something to distract herself from how she felt these days, and running felt more or less appropriate, considering she was using it as a literal metaphor to escape her problems.

                                                                           ***

Dodie was definitely what would be considered a "horse girl", a hobby her father had all but encouraged. He'd used to come to her training, sit around and watch, encourage her, and she loved having him there. Since his death, her mother had done this a few times, but she more often than not had to run errands instead during the time Dodie was training. Sitting on her bed at home, looking at a large book full of horses, she couldn't help but feel somewhat excited about doing the trail ride that weekend. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and her mother stood there, wiping her hands on a dish towel, like she'd been washing something.

"Watcha doin'?" Regina asked.

"Looking at horses," Dodie said, "Sarah said I could do her trail ride this weekend."

"Well that was really nice of her," Regina said, walking in and sitting down beside Dodie, rubbing her back, "so...what do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know. Hamburgers? Can we get fast food?" Dodie asked.

"We could. I didn't really wanna cook anyway," Regina said, "Get your coat on and we'll go."

Dodie did as she was told. She slipped her shoes back on, pulled her jacket on and together, she and her mother headed out to the car. It was raining lightly, but they didn't mind. Dodie got into the backseat and Regina pulled out of the driveway, then headed toward their favorite fast food place downtown. As they pulled up into the drive through, Dodie peeked out her window and looked at the board, seeing the toys that came with the kids meals, and saw that the toys for the girls were horses. She immediately felt a pang of need.

"Can I get a kids meal?" Dodie asked.

"You sure? You don't get as much food," Regina asked, looking in the rearview mirror back at her.

"Yeah, please," Dodie said.

Regina looked over at the board, looking for whatever it was she might want for herself and then spotted the kids meal and realized why Dodie had asked. She smiled to herself and appreciated that Dodie was still such a kid. After they ordered and were given their food, Regina started driving home. Pulling up into the driveway, Regina got out of the car and walked around to Dodie's door, sliding it open only to find Dodie sitting in her seat, holding her horse toy in her hands, choking back tears.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked immediately, kneeling to her eye level and stroking her hair.

"...I miss dad," she said, and Regina pulled her daughter into her chest, soothing her.

"I know baby, I do too," she said.

She used to have a father. All she had now were horses. Sure they were nice...

...but they weren't the same.

                                                                           ***

Anita Cook was in the locker room, rubbing lotion on her leg, when she saw a pair of feet stop near her. She looked up, her braids falling back behind her as her eyes landed on Palmer, who was standing there watching her. Anita stood fully up and rubbed her hands together.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I hate you and I don't know why and it makes me incredibly upset," Palmer said, being surprisingly direct.

"Well," Anita said, putting her hands on her hips, "that does sound upsetting. I don't even know your name, so I can't imagine why you might hate me. We've never even spoken."

"I think...I think it's subconscious," Palmer said, leaning against the lockers, "A little over a month ago, my father died. Seeing your parents coming by to cheer you on during your runs, it just...it makes my blood boil. Not only is my father gone, but he was never really all that openly supportive of whatever I did. He was super supportive of my sister, for some reason, and that always made me feel awkward."

"I definitely understand feeling awkward right now," Anita said, making Palmer smirk.

"I don't wanna hate you. It isn't fair to you, or me. I'm just...I guess I'm weirdly jealous that not only is your father still alive, but he's far more supportive than mine ever was. I guess part of it was my fault. I never really did anything to warrant support. I was never in any clubs or groups or played sports or anything, but still, he could've said he supported whatever my hobbies or interests were, ya know?"

Anita pulled her uniform off and pulled her regular shirt on over herself, pulling her braids out from the collar and letting them fall behind her, not interrupting, just listening.

"Why did you start running?" Palmer asked.

"I just like the feeling," Anita said, shrugging, "I guess I like it because it's a fairly solitary activity. I'm not an introvert or anything, but I'm also not exactly a social butterfly, and I hate playing stuff with others, so this is a good sport for me. I was always kinda athletic, but I always preferred solitary sports, like bowling. Things that don't automatically require a team or a league or whatever."

Palmer nodded, looking at her nails.

"...why are you running?" Anita asked.

"Because I'm a goddamned cliche," Palmer said, "I'm literally using it as a metaphor, because I'm such a trope. How original. Running from my problems..."

A moment passed as Anita picked up her own backpack and slung it around her shoulders, then looked back at Palmer.

"You wanna come running with me sometime?" Anita asked, "Like, not here at the school, but on an actual run."

"...really? Even after I openly admitted I hate you for no valid reason?" Palmer asked.

"Least I can do is try and make you like me," Anita said, smiling.

Palmer felt warm inside. She'd rarely had any girl friends who actually enjoyed hanging out with her, and since coming to this college the only friend she'd managed to make was Arthur. Seems like perhaps her fathers death did ultimately have a silver lining of some kind.

"I'd really appreciate that, yeah," Palmer said.

"Walk with me to my class, we'll make a plan," Anita said.

Palmer followed Anita out of the locker room and back into the school proper. It'd been so long since she'd actually done something with someone that wasn't grief related, and she felt appreciative of this change of pace. Unfortunately for Palmer, Dodie was having the opposite situation.

                                                                             ***

"I don't think she should do your ride," Regina said to Sarah, the two of them standing in the stalls while Sarah brushed her horse.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"Because I don't think she's emotionally ready," Regina said, "I don't wanna hold my daughter back from the things that matter to her, but she...she's doing so poorly since her father died and I just don't think it's the right time. If maybe, in a few months, you wanna give her the offer again, then sure, but...not yet. Not right now."

Regina looked over her shoulder at the barn doors, seeing in the driveway Dodie sitting in the car and she sighed.

"...she wasn't anywhere near ready. My other daughter wasn't ready either, but she's apparently seeming to be more capable of handling this, but Dodie's only in 3rd grade. Her sister's in college. Dodie didn't expect to grow up without a father, and she doesn't know how the world works anymore. When you're that young and something that traumatic happens to you, it turns the world into this terrifying place instead of something curious and wonderful."

Sarah nodded, brushing her hair back behind her shoulders and pulling it up into a ponytail.

"...I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it just...it isn't the right time," Regina asked.

"I understand," Sarah said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Were you ready?" Sarah asked, catching Regina by surprise.

In the last month or so since her husbands death, she'd been consoled, comforted, and even given plates and plates of food from friends and neighbors. But she'd never really taken a moment to consider whether or not she herself had expected his death either, or if she too were as shocked and potentially traumatized as her daughters were. She chewed her lip for a moment and then shook her head.

"No, I really...I really wasn't," she said, "He was my whole life, besides the girls, and...and he was my best friend and..."

She lost it. She started crying. She felt Sarah hugging her, and was surprised by this random teenagers generosity and kindness. After a few minutes she managed to recompose herself and finish her sentence, albeit her voice still shaky.

"...I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just...I haven't really processed it myself just yet. I've been so busy trying to make Dodie feel better that...that I haven't really had any time to grieve for me, you know? He was the love of my life, and I thought he'd always be here, at least until we were older. I never could've expected that he might not be."

"I've never really lost anyone," Sarah said, "but I understand, or at least I'm trying to. If you'd like, my mother does grief counseling. You could talk to her, and probably for free, considering how close Dodie and I work together here."

"...that's not a bad idea," Regina said, and then, checking her watch added, "I have to go. I'm sorry."

As she turned and began to leave, Sarah watched this poor woman get back into her car and pull away. Sarah had never expected to be involved in something like this. She'd always just assumed she and Dodie would be friends because of their interest in horses - sort of a voluntary big sister situation - and it'd never occurred to her that someday she might become more invested simply because of her proximity. Sarah turned back to the horse and continued brushing, thinking to herself how she would react if she lost one of her parents.

Sadly, she didn't have an answer, and she wasn't in any kind of hurry to find out.

                                                                               ***

That weekend, Anita drove Palmer up to a small old trail that she liked to use for running. Palmer and Anita both wore tanktops and shorts and sneakers, and Anita told Palmer she'd most likely want to put her hair up, because the worst thing to deal with was hair whipping in your face when you ran. As she parked and the girls got out, Palmer took in the nice clean forest air and shut her eyes.

"Smells good out here doesn't it?" Anita asked, and Palmer nodded in agreement.

"It does," she said, kneeling down and doing up the velcro on her sneakers.

"You ready?" Anita asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Palmer said.

With that, the two girls took off running down the provided paths. What a mantra she was coming to live by, Palmer realized. She was now facing everything with the fact that she was as ready as she'd ever be, and she'd never really be ready, so she'd better get used to winging it.

Life kinda sucked like that, but at least she had a running mate.