"Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost."

~ Erol Ozan

"Here you go, miss," said the suited waiter with a faint smile as he settled the frosted glass of mint lemonade onto the wooden table.

The coolness of the beverage sizzled under the heated gaze of the sun, forming droplets on the outside of the glass. Beads began sliding down, each drop racing the next ultimately merging at the base, only to form a ring. The sun's reflection shone through the condensation, creating blurred hues of green and yellow.

Through my reading glasses, my restless eyes followed the rays of the sparkling sun to observe the plethora of shades that painted the afternoon sky. It was what I loved most about coming home for the summer. Amidst the heat, there was a sense of happiness that often consumed me.

It was my escape from reality; a break from the world and all its flaws. Having lunch at the riding club with my parents and siblings wasn't what made me feel content. Instead, it was the alluring scent of mother earth mixed with that of horses that made my shoulders unwind. Sipping lemonade whilst watching the trotting horses was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

Oh, how I missed this.

It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the company of my family, or that I hadn't missed them while I was away at college; I had just missed the feeling of being able to do whatever I wanted more. I missed the feeling of galloping on a horse, the wind in my hair, and the freedom which empowered me when I used to attend the riding academy as a teenager.

My gaze flickered towards my mother and father momentarily only to notice just how little they had changed in a year. Dad, or as the rest of the world knew him, Harold Parker, was enthusiastically stuffing his face with whatever he could lay his hands on. I laughed inwardly at how dearly he enjoyed eating his food. He was always dressed smartly, and on the weekends, whenever we would come to the riding club for lunch he almost always paired his polo shirt with khaki shorts.

My mother, on the other hand, didn't just always dress smartly but chose to overdo it every time. Allison Parker, the infamous salon owner in our quaint little hometown on the outskirts of Chicago. With her fame came the responsibility of always wearing a fully caked face of make-up, false eyelashes, and a blow-dried bob cut. She used to be a significantly different person when Stacy, Jonah, and I were younger but ever since she started her salon business two years ago, her priorities changed for the worse.

Stacy, my older sister, who was nearly three years older than I was had recently moved back to town after dropping out of college. She did, however, make money on the side as a model which was one of her reasons for dropping out. Mom obviously encouraged her when that happened whereas Dad wasn't too supportive of her career choices and gave her a cold welcome when she initially returned.

I focused my attention back towards the paddock but was distracted from my own thoughts when a silhouette on horseback came into view. A dark figure eclipsing the sun mounted on a pale white horse. To my eyes, the change in scenery was majestic and worthy of a quick sketch.

I lowered in my seat, propped my glasses further up the bridge of my nose, and immediately turned to my sketchbook to roughly recreate my muse. The rider and his vessel galloped systematically around the paddock as if they were one being.

Wow...

I hadn't even realized how captivated I was until I heard the voice of my mother, snapping me out of my trance.

"Huh?" I asked mindlessly, reluctantly averting my gaze away from the direction it was in and instinctively gulping down a large sip of the ice-cold lemonade through the straw.

"Dear God, Harry, just look at your daughter! She looks like a homeless person," she complained to Dad, tugging at his elbow in the process. "Fix your hair before someone sees, Ariel. And take those hideous glasses off!" she added sternly.

Breathe.

Don't let her get to you.

"Oh, leave her be, Allie." Dad waved his hands in the air dismissively which made Mom scowl.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, leaning forward once again to sip my lemonade. "I'm not a real-life fucking Barbie doll," I murmured under my breath but Mom was too busy discussing something about a fashion show with Stacy to care anymore. Still, my comment didn't fail to amuse Jonah, my younger brother, who chuckled from beside me.

"Tell me about it," he said in a low voice while adjusting his black cap. He leaned towards me with a wide grin and added, "Besides, I happen to think you look perfect." His words made me giggle slightly but I didn't believe them. I didn't look perfect. I wasn't perfect.

I pulled off his cap and ruffled his jet black hair which made him pout. "Is this what I get for being nice?" he deadpanned.

I let out a chuckle and simultaneously plopped his precious cap back onto his head. "At least you have the privilege of saying that I only missed you while I was away," I said, looking down at my sketchbook to admire the drawing I had made just moments ago.

"Ari, take a quick snap of Mom and me." Stacy handed me her iPhone, fluttering her eyelashes at me. I rolled my eyes, inwardly judging them while I clicked a few photographs as they posed, huddling together and tilting their heads.

Stacy and Mom were similar in some respects; make-up and flash lashes. But, in others, Mom was twig-thin and Stacy was definitely an hourglass. All through high school, I remembered boys lining up to become friends with me just so they could hook up with her. On the other hand, I wasn't too thin or too curvy, and to be honest, I was insecure, not just about my body but about my features, my acne, my personality. The whole shebang.

College changed a few things though. I got better at hiding my insecurities. I still didn't like being photographed though, like Mom and Stacy, and whenever I was forced into it, my hand would come up to hide my face. I didn't think I was ugly but I didn't think I was beautiful either. Mom and Stacy never made it any easier. Despite the relaxation I felt to be home, I didn't exactly appreciate the family time that came with it.

Enough with the pity-party.

"Come on, Jonah." Dad motioned for Jonah to follow him as he stood from his seat. "Let's go see what Mr. Cameron has to say about your progress." I let out a low whistle knowing all too well what that meant. Jonah pleaded for me to do something through his eyes, nervously getting up from his seat.

Think. Think. Think.

"Daddy, why don't I take Jonah and you can enjoy your dessert? I haven't met Mr. Cameron ever since I left so it would be nice to say hello." I improvised, tossing my sketchbook into my backpack, propping my glasses onto my head, and rushing to my feet.

"Darling, sit down. Let them go." Mom put in her two cents.

Dad nodded in agreement and sat back down, "Alright, alright."

Jonah draped his arm over my shoulder and smiled at me gratefully, "Do you see what I have to deal with when you're not around, sissy?"

"I've heard you've been quite the trouble maker this past year, Joe." I peered up at him as I spoke.

Despite being three years younger than I was, Jonah had grown considerably taller than me. It was safe to say that Jonah had physically changed the most. His dressing sense had changed for the better but like any older sibling, I feared that he was going to grow up. He had turned sixteen last week and I was too familiar with the whole teenage rebellion phase. I just hoped that he would be better than mine.

"I got a tattoo," he told me with pride as we walked side by side.

"Stacy told me," I replied, adjusting the neckline of my white t-shirt.

"Are you mad?" His voice was a little unsure.

"No, I'm not mad." I rolled my eyes at him, "But I mean, you could've been smarter about the whole ordeal."

"Yeah...not my finest moment." He chuckled.

I immediately felt a sense of warmth as the familiar wooden structure came into view. Jonah waited outside the stables while I went inside. After exchanging pleasantries with Mr. Cameron, I exited his office and mindlessly wandered back to the stables. The gentle breeze blew strands of my loose curls onto my face, making me close my eyes instinctively and take a deep breath. My hand rose to tuck my hair behind my ear but almost instantly my hair blew back onto my face.

While turning a sharp corner, I was taken aback when I almost bumped into something, my hand instantly reached up to stop my glasses from falling.

Breathe.

I hastily stepped back only to come face to face with a pair of large hazel eyes tainted with tiny specks of gold. It was the same beautiful white horse that I had drawn earlier. I immediately began admiring its wildly elegant features.

Deep breath.

"You should really watch where you're going. Horses aren't fond of being headbutted by humans."

Huh. Duly noted.

Instantly, my eyes searched for the source of the deep voice. His tone was firm with a hint of sarcasm yet somehow it sounded polite. I discovered the source to be a young man who seemed to be in his early twenties. Before I could fully absorb his features or even formulate a response, he began to lure the majestic creature away, making it snicker.

I cocked my head to the side as I watched their retreating figures. He was a rider that much I was certain of; helmet in one hand reigns in the other. But he wasn't dressed in the conventional riding attire, instead, he was covered head to toe in black, a polo shirt, and sweatpants. As they crossed from in front of me I was only able to catch a brief glimpse of his side profile. Thick curly hair, light stubble, and sharp features.

Deep breath.

"What's his name?" I called out, causing him and the horse to come to a halt.

Without turning around, he articulated a curt reply, "Bolt."

Inhale.

I tiptoed towards Bolt, trailing the length of his body with my hand until his large head came into view once again. "I'm really sorry for headbutting you, Bolt." I smiled as I caressed his shiny coat which made him lean into my touch, clearly enjoying the action. After planting a soft peck on the side of his neck, I sauntered away but not before I was briefly able to lock eyes with the rider.

"What took you so long?" Jonah questioned me as I jogged towards him. "Why are you smiling like that?" He gave me a perplexed look.

Exhale.

"No reason," I replied while shrugging, pulling my lower lip into my mouth to suppress the smile which was dancing on my lips.

Amber.

His eyes were amber.

————

Don't forget to smile every now and then, it's your most attractive feature.

Please don't forget to vote, comment, and share if you enjoyed this chapter.

Love, Ari