Hot Potato (Shelby and Blue) - Alyssa Brugman [33]
The doctor smiled. 'Shelby, I know it sounds boring, but it will be much more boring if you don't give the bone a chance to knit. It could end up taking twice as long. You could also end up with a permanent lump there.'
Shelby opened her mouth, but her mother interrupted with a warning. 'No more cheek from you!'
They picked up a small vial of painkillers at the chemist on the way out and Shelby soon found herself at home on the lounge with a half-eaten spaghetti jaffle on the arm of the lounge next to her and six whole weeks of convalescing to contemplate.
She tried to remember the longest time that she'd gone without riding since she'd owned Blue. There'd been heavy rain for four days in a row last winter, and that had been unbearable.
Blake had eaten most of his jaffle, except the crusts, and now he squatted in front of the TV cupboard perusing the animated movie collection.
'Nemo or Milo?' he asked, displaying the two cases as if he were a game show hostess. 'I'm thinking Nemo.'
Shelby huffed. 'I don't have time for this!'
Blake examined the titles, frowning with concentration. 'I don't think Milo and Otis is any shorter,' he said apologetically.
23 Self-pity
Shelby rested the novel she was reading for English against the pillow. She had been reading the same line over and over – unable to concentrate.
Everyone else was probably getting ready for Pony Club right now. There was an interclub gymkhana in a few weeks. She'd probably miss that too. Maybe her mum would drive her over to watch? Shelby doubted it, now that her mum had assignments to do as well as a part-time job and full-time family duties.
She imagined what Erin and Lindsey might do without her supervision. They might sell Hotty to a brutal cowboy for the rodeo circuit. She would be called 'The Pocket Rocket' – a humorous curiosity slotted in between other displays of cruelty and abuse. Or they might give her away to some ignorant family – tied in a back yard on the fringes of suburbia, between the chicken pen and the Hills Hoist.
They might even send Hotty back to the Dog Man. Shelby narrowed her eyes. Yes, Lindsey and the Dog Man were old friends, weren't they?
Shelby could imagine the scene – poor little Hotty trudging up the ramp of the rusty old cattle truck on the way to her doom. The Dog Man slapping her rump. 'Hurry up, Sausages!'
Erin would be saying, 'Shouldn't we wait? I'm sure Shel would want to say goodbye.'
'Who?' from Lindsey.
'Shelby.'
'Oh, her.' Lindsey would shrug. 'I don't think she knew Bess that well anyway.'
Erin nodding in agreement. 'You're right. That horse always hated Shelby anyway. Remember how she nearly killed her? Twice!'
Shelby threw her book against the wall. 'Stupid zygomatic ridge,' she muttered.
And then there was Tammy's money. That was a little time bomb she hadn't thought about all day. She had to find a solution soon.
How could she be expected to lie here when there was so much going on?
'Mum!' she shouted. 'I need a drink!'
'There's nothing wrong with your legs,' came the reply from the other room.
'Jeez, you'd think the sympathy would last more than a few hours,' Shelby growled under her breath as she hauled herself to her feet.
In the bathroom Shelby looked at her reflection in the mirror again. Her broken cheek had swollen to twice the normal size. Her eye was puffy and black, and her nose was a reddish purple. She could still see the imprint of the hoof in small abrasions.
'You can actually see how much this hurts!' she yelled. 'Don't you even care?'
'Since you're up, there's a full basket of washing in the laundry that needs folding,' her mother called out.
Shelby dragged her feet all the way to the laundry and began to fold the clothes. Although her face wasn't hurting right at that minute she knew that it would be if she hadn't taken a painkiller. And when she really concentrated on how much it should hurt, she did feel a bit