The Midnight Prince

Wildfire

(Natalie)

After Flint and the boys leave to go mow roadside ditches all day, I guide Chance upstairs with me to my lair. Mom’s words, not mine.

“Wow your room is so cool. Are all these trophies yours?” She strolls over to the shelf where all my ribbons and awards for barrel racing are. They come in various colors and sizes, ranging from several 5th place ones to over a dozen first place. My favorite is probably the fourth place ribbon I got from the world championship race I went to last year in Oklahoma. Fourth might not sound that great but when you compete a horse born at some small time farm to horses worth millions, I’d say fourth is pretty f*****g incredible.

I nod in answer and start ousting my way through the closet, looking for something better for her to wear. My closet is so full of clothes I have to shove the various fabrics and push my weight against them to be able to find what I want. What can I say? I’m a girl, I love clothes. For a girl who loves clothes, you rarely have enough on. My wolf remarks. I ignore her and focus on Chance, noting the unflattering khaki dress pants and boring white blouse. “Did you bring any normal people clothes with you here? I just feel like all my stuff is going to be too big on you. You have an amazing figure and I don’t want to ruin it by hiding you under my clothes.”

Chance laughs dryly. “If by amazing you mean the body of a 14 year old boy, then yeah it’s great. I brought some jeans and stuff but Flint took me to get things more ‘appropriate’ for what we’re here for. I bet he feels stupid now.”

We give up looking through my closet and go down to her room to find something that actually fits her personality. Chance opens up a suitcase and clothes pour out immediately. She sheepishly smiles and shrugs. “Sorry, I know it’s a mess.”

I wave her off and start going through the array of shirts and pants she has. “No need to apologize to me- my clothes are stuffed in every drawer on my dresser. It’s a middle child thing.” A black tee shirt with a hot pink stick figure on the front catches my eye and I pull it out. “This is perfect, I love it.”

Chance smiles in a way that makes me think she doesn’t hear that often. This poor girl has been ignored and shoved into a conformity box her entire life. When has she ever been praised for just being herself?

“Yeah? It’s a good shirt to wear with these acid wash jeans.” She pulls out the pants and I nod eagerly in agreement.

Something feels off about the shirt and I debate how to fix it. “How attached are you to this shirt? Well, more so the sleeves of it.”

I earn a puzzled look by Chance and a mischievous grin only deepens her wariness.

“Okay, you got the outfit, the makeup, now let’s talk about your hair.” Standing at a distance, eyeball the new Chance up and down. Her stick man tee shirt is now a stick man tank top, with the collar cut as well to give her a little cleavage, and the acid wash jeans have a few new holes in them. I gave her a pair of my boots to wear and did her makeup.

My new friend immediately seems to get uncomfortable when I mention her locks of flaming orange. “Okay.. but I should warn you, it’s crazy curly and is going to explode the second you take it down.”

I offer her a gentle pat of reassurance on the shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re going to get through this together.” She rolls her eyes at my dramatics.

Delicately, I reach into the bun on her head and free the frizz from its binds. Just as she said, a massive poof of untamed locks bounce out.

“Oh honey, what is going on?”

Chance’s body language changes and I instantly feel bad and try to rephrase what I said. “You have such beautiful hair, and so many gorgeous curls. Did anybody ever teach you have to manage them?”

She shakes her head No and her ivory cheeks flush with embarrassment. “My moms don’t have curly hair, nobody up north has hair like mine. I guess they just didn’t know how to take care of it, so then nobody taught me how.”

They could have learned. No wonder this girl is oozing self esteem issues. My wolf is as equally disappointed in the Queens as I am.

I wrap my arms around her from behind and look at her through the mirror. “Well today you’re gonna learn. I don’t have all the stuff we need, but I have a few things I have for my hair we can use to at least tone down your frizz. We can go to the store later and get you some better products.”

I spend the next hour washing, conditioning, and diffusing her hair. Little by little the frizz melts away and delicate little ringlets replace them. I use my diffuser at an angle to dry the curls into place, then I put the top half of her luscious hair into a high ponytail to keep it off her face and add dimension.

Finally, my masterpiece is finished and I spin her around to face my mirror. “Alright, we’re all done! Here’s how your hair should look.” I smile proudly at what I’ve done for her.

Chance’s jaw nearly hits the floor and she reaches up to touch the incredible crown of thick and voluminous curls that now cascade now her head and shoulders, stopping just below her collarbone. “Holy s**t, these look amazing. I- I’m speechless.” Her narrow fingers gingerly lift a curl and pull it so she can watch it bounce happily back into place.

I shrug casually and play with the back of her head. “And they’ll look even better once you start using your own products that are better for curly hair. I know the wash and styling time took a while but we can buy you these special bonnets to sleep in so you can go a few days at a time without washing it and-“

I can’t even finish my ramble before she swings around in the chair and wraps me into a tight hug. “Thank you. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.” Her voice cracks as she whispers the last part to me, and I can feel her genuine appreciation radiating off her thin body.

“It’s no big deal babe, you deserve to be happy and embrace the things that make you so special.” She squeezes me even tighter and I accept her gratitude and repay it by holding her back. After a few seconds, we release our grips on each other and I look deeply into her stormy, sage eyes. “You are a wildfire, and you should burn down everything that gets in your way.”

Chance’s eye seem to well with tears of appreciation and I pat her playfully to lighten the mood a bit. “Well, are you ready to learn how to ride a horse now?”