Kristin popped the last bit of rhubarb and chewed slow. “Yaaah,” she said, thinking about how good it would be to eat rhubarb if she were stoned.
Sher and Billie looked at Kris.
“Okay, then,” Billie said, slapped a knee, and walked off.
“Kris,” Sher hissed. “What’s going on?”
“Nothin’,” Kris said, and returned to imagining being stoned, away from it all.
“We finally got a job,” Sher whispered. “We can’t blow it.”
“Sure thing.” Kristin laughed. But she felt bad. She couldn’t explain how or why this happened—sometimes the bottom fell out of her, and her feelings switched up on her for no reason she could discern. When it happened, she couldn’t stop it—it was like she sat at the bottom of a well, and watched herself above.
* * *
The day was a cooker. The girls exercised the horses in
