She had an hour before her Hippotherapy session—ample time to go over the numerous pages of notes from her Equine Nutrition class. Hannah and Barbara had been waiting by the classroom door, offering her a fresh cup of tea they'd picked up from the nearby café. Even though she'd hoped for some solitude, she appreciated the gesture and expressed her thanks to them as they stepped outside into the crisp autumn air. She took a deep breath, savoring the warmth of the tea in her hand and the refreshing breeze against her thin blue button-up shirt.
Between classes, she enjoyed sitting by the fountain around the statue of Chariot du Nord. The gentle sound of water splashing into the shallow pool was comforting, and few people shared her free period; those who did often retreated to their dorms next door. Napping between classes was a temptation she knew well but avoided due to her tight schedule. Instead, she took her usual spot and opened her book to start reviewing.
Hannah and Barbara were accustomed to this routine and didn't interrupt her. They sat beside her, chatting about inconsequential things: Barbara gossiped about cute boys from Appleton, while Hannah discussed both cute girls and boys, and they both swooned over the adorable horses in the stables. Their chatter was endless and trivial, but Diana had learned to tune it out and focus on her thoughts.
That day's lecture had covered the basic nutritional needs of newborn foals, from their first nursing moments until they became yearlings. Diana knew this subject well; her family bred and sold high-end Warmbloods, and she had helped care for many foals alongside her mother and later the farmhands until they were weaned and either sold or kept for breeding.
Beatrix was an exception. Diana's mother always dreamed of breeding a foal from the distinguished stallion Balou du Rouet but never found an ideal mare until she was terminally ill. In honor of her mother's wish, Diana refused to sell or breed Beatrix; instead, she chose to own and compete with her as a final tribute. Beatrix met all expectations with conformational beauty and the athleticism of a high-dollar champion—even if she had been less perfect, Diana would have loved her no less.
Engrossed in her studies, with Hannah's and Barbara's voices mere background noise, Diana suddenly heard light footsteps nearby followed by Barbara's raised voice.
"Oh, look who it is," sneered Barbara. "It's the Captain of the My Little Pony Club."
Diana lifted her eyes from the book containing the day's readings, searching for the specific metabolic reaction of a three-month-old foal exposed to an unusually high iron intake, and saw Cellie. Clad in a sweaty, tight white tank-top that accentuated her form perfectly, showcasing her toned arms and the smooth skin of her collarbones, and red running shorts that flaunted her muscular legs, she was a sight to behold. Diana quickly redirected her gaze to Cellie's face to avoid obvious staring. Not that Cellie was noticing; her worried smile was directed at Barbara.
"Barbara," she cautioned. Barbara's tone with Cellie never led to anything good.
The Japanese girl rolled her eyes and pulled out some earbuds, letting them rest around a neck glistening with sweat. Her brunette hair, pulled back into a ponytail and damp around the forehead and ears, laid softly over her muscled shoulders. "Hi to you too," she replied, swiping at her forehead before turning to leave.
"Wait up, we wanted to talk to you."
Diana gave Barbara a warning look with narrowed blue eyes. Keep it civil, her eyes seemed to say.
She noticed Cellie turn around. Diana glanced down at Cellie's runners—they looked new and quite comfortable. She reminded herself that she needed new ones too; hers had almost 500 miles on them and were due for replacement.
"We just had a question about Mounted Games," Barbara said next to her. "You know, just curious."
"Uh, okay." Cellie stepped closer and lifted the bottom of her shirt—oh sweet mercy, those abs! Diana could barely keep herself composed as she took in the sight of Cellie's cut physique. She swallowed hard, steadying her breath and trying to keep her face neutral despite the intense gaze. When Cellie finally let her shirt drop, Diana quickly diverted her eyes to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. "What's your question?"
"We were just wondering how we could try out," Hannah interjected with a snide tone.
Cellie's eyes narrowed but she responded straightforwardly and calmly. "Selections are closed for now—only held in August. You'll have to wait until next year if you're really interested."
"Well that's rubbish," Hannah grumbled. "Had I known it was that easy to get into Stargate Equestrian, I would've tried out for the Games team too."
Distracted by thoughts of Cellie's physique—having always found her attractive but now utterly captivated—Diana snapped back to reality when Barbara spoke up again:
"Wouldn't have had to pay for private coaching, either."
"Girls," Diana chided, closing her book and shifting her focus back to Hannah and Barbara. Their behavior was becoming unacceptable. Cellie had done nothing to provoke them; they were just baiting her for no reason. "It's time for both of you to head to your next class instead of starting pointless fights."
"Us starting pointless fights?" Hannah shot her a look. "She's the one who had her team mess with us all weekend. They're a new team, one that Stargate Equestrian is wasting its money on, and they think they're something special."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cellie responded.
"Great Captain," Barbara muttered. "Doesn't even know what's going on with her own team."
Diana exhaled deeply. Enough was enough—they were venting their frustrations on the wrong person. The Games team hadn't done anything to them. Contrary to Hannah and Barbara's claims, no one but Amanda Rosings had caused any issues. Their insecurity baffled her; their positions on the Hunt Team weren't threatened by a sport unrelated to theirs. "I said get to class," she commanded, tucking her book under her arm and walking towards the Equestrian Studies building, expecting them to follow suit. She'd be very early for Hippotherapy, but Professor Finnegan wouldn't mind if she sat quietly and studied while waiting for class.
"Fine," she heard Hannah grumble behind her. And predictably, one last jab at Cellie: "Cellie should probably get busy taking a bath too, don't you think, Barbs? She looks pretty sweaty."
In all the right ways, Diana thought, sneaking one last glance at the girl in her athletic gear.
"That's where I was—"
She watched in shock as her two teammates grabbed Cellie, whose eyes widened in surprise, and unceremoniously tossed her into the fountain around the Chariot statue. "What the—!" Cellie's arms flailed wildly as she tried to regain balance but failed miserably. She crashed into the water, which splashed everywhere: on the statue's side, the stone bench, and the dry cobblestones.
Diana was livid.
"That was utterly childish! I can't believe you'd do that to her! Get out of here right now; I'm absolutely furious with both of you!" Diana shouted, anger causing her ears to burn as she stepped forward. Pointless arguing was bad enough; assaulting someone—especially a kind girl minding her own business—was unacceptable. She ignored Hannah and Barbara's immature giggles as they backed off and hurriedly helped Cellie up, ensuring she was okay.
"Cellie, are you alright?" Diana asked, concern written on her face. Noticing the scrapes on the back of Cellie's calves and the blood trickling down, she saw her friend was soaked, water dripping from her clothes and hair matted to her cheek and neck. As Diana watched, Cellie wrung out her shirt, a frown deepening on her face as she looked like she might burst into tears.
Cellie didn't respond. Instead, she shook off Diana's hand and glared at her. "Like you care, get off me," she snapped.
Before Diana could say another word, Cellie stormed off towards the dormitories, not glancing back. Hannah and Barbara continued to laugh, igniting a temptation in Diana to chase after Cellie—even though she lacked a key card for the dormitories—but instead, she spun toward her teammates.
"If you ever—ever," Diana wrestled to keep her voice steady—"lay a hand on Cellie or anyone from that team again, I will make sure you're kicked off the Hunt Team and out of Stargate Equestrian. Or you can spend your time mucking stalls until those delicate hands of yours are raw with blisters." Her eyes burned with fury as she finished speaking.
Hannah and Barbara's laughter died instantly; they almost appeared remorseful. If Diana believed they could feel shame, she might have let her anger dissipate. But she knew they would laugh it off later; that's who they'd become since their European Championship victory had gone to their heads.
Before Diana could utter another word, the two girls rushed away.
Turning towards the dormitory door, Diana traced the trail of wet footprints leading inside. The door was still swinging shut—if she hurried, she might catch up to Cellie. But deep down, she knew Cellie wouldn't want to see her now; probably grouping her with Hannah and Barbara. Maybe meeting up during Hippotherapy would be a better chance to apologize.
With a heavy sigh and the dull pain of an emerging headache, Diana trudged to class lost in a fog of anger and regret.