25
GABRIELA
A flutter of anticipation set off in my belly as I walked Prancer to the track.
The sight of his eager, pricked up ears reassured me in the saddle. Two days before the Sonoma fair, and finally, I got to ride again.
Even as early as ten a.m., the hot sun beat down on my skin as I approached the track, and a line of sweat trickled down the center of my back.
“Wait up, Gabriela!” A familiar voice behind me cried out.
“Matías! What are you doing here?” I pivoted in the saddle, resting my hand on Prancer’s hindquarters and shiny, black coat, and turned to see my friend with a wide grin on his face.
“Same as you. I came to win.” He said and we entered the oval-shaped dirt track surrounded by its white fence.
“That why you’re training when the sun is out, like me?” I asked.
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