Meg Rosoff

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The lure of the bad boy.

Remember Ricochet?  The horse a three-year-old could ride? Well, I've been riding him for nearly a month now and I can safely say I wouldn't let a child anywhere near him.

Not that he's bad.

Oh no.

He never puts a hoof wrong.  Never.  Except when he does.

But here's the strange thing.

He's started to remind me of the boys I used to fall in love with back in my perpetually clueless youth.

You know the type: the unreliable unpredictable ones who never called or showed up when they said they would. The ones no sane person would approach without a pepper spray and a barge pole.

I always wondered about those guys, why they were so hard to resist.

But that's all in the past. I'm grown-up now, happily married, wise as anything.

Thank goodness.

So anyway.

Yesterday, I'm working and working with Mr Handsome Horse and my teacher says, "Excellent. He's going really beautifully for you."

My heart stops.

For me!  He's going beautifully for me!  Not for everyone, for me!

And that's it. (For me!)

Any minute now, he and I will be riding off into the sunset together.

He'll be galloping flat out.  And I'll be wondering what on earth I was thinking.