11
“The conversation at breakfast has given me a wonderful idea,” Trevor says, leading me back down the path toward the pasture. “I know how to catch my stallion.”
I come to a halt. “I said milk comes from cows…”
“No, no,” he waves his hand in the air. “Everything you said was inane, of course. It’s what the other girls said that caught my interest.”
I take a second, mentally replaying breakfast. “Oh,” I say, hitting on it. “Boobs. Of course. Boobs is what caught your interest.”
“Precisely,” Trevor says. Except, he’s not really Trevor anymore.
He’s a horse…kind of. The head isn’t quite right.
I squint trying to figure out exactly what about it is wrong—beside the fact that the boy I was just talking to is now a horse. Finally, I put my finger on it. Trevor isn’t able to change the e
