The quiet of the office was the sound of victory. I spent the next two hours completely lost in the data, the pivot tables, and color-coded outreach plans, and the only thing I had thought about was what I could fix next. Weston’s final command—"Stay in your chair."—was the only permission I needed to breathe. For the first time since landing in Arizona, I had a purpose that wasn't about perform...

I never cared if people didn't like me. So be it, if the internet saw me as the villain, right? I could get over it. Then why did I so desperately want this muscular, sandy blonde, flannel-wearing stranger to like me?

Weston and I mostly ignored each other the next day. God, if not like, at least acknowledge me.

The ranch house was too quiet, the floorboards too loud. We played a painful game of ...

The rest of the night was mostly awkward conversations that followed the same equation. Sure, the awkwardness wasn’t ideal, but at least it followed a pattern.

“Hey there! My name’s Haven Collins! Relative of Clara Erikson Holt.” 

“Ah, good old Clara! What brings you here, m’lady?”

“Just recently at my aunt’s, a horse was born with a damaged foot, and coming to her ranch August 25th for a fancy di...

The barn was massive, its rafters strung with fairy lights so bright they turned night into day. I looked around, reeling from all the overwhelming chatter and scent of alcohol, hay, and BBQ smoke. Sierra, Noah, and I walked in the open barn doors, and the sound erupted, boots clattering, instruments tuning, and talking. 

People came up to Noah and Sierra one by one, and it felt like everyone in...

I didn’t want to admit it, but it really was the best massage I’d ever had. For the first time since 2 weeks ago, on that early June summer day when I’d arrived, my shoulders were untensed and slouching, and even in my heels, I was relaxed.

“How was it, Haven?” Sally and Sierra looked drunk, either on the champagne the spa gave, or the freedom of our staycation. 

I shrug nonchalantly, remaining ap...

By the time the sun rose the next week, the shine of being “the new girl” had worn off. No one looked twice at me in the kitchen anymore. Clara just passed me in the halls, her salt and pepper curls flipping in my face.

Sierra had already gone to drop off her kids, Rio and Liam, at their dad’s. Noah whistled out the door like he was late for something. Weston didn’t even glance at me—though maybe ...

im not lazy.

god, you have no right in calling me that.

stop calling me lazy.

you don’t know how hard it is to just get up.

to eat.

take a shower.

brush my teeth.

you don’t know how much energy it takes to keep myself from crying when i’m around other people.

god, i don’t know why i flinch away from people when they put theyre hand out for a fucking high five.

because i never got beat

bu...

in a world full of roses

be a rose

oblige to the standards

curl your frizzy hair

wear that stupid makeup

pull on that fifty dollar shirt

and put that smile back on

because what else are you going to do?

be unique?

in this world

with these standards

with these people

trim those thorns and be as pristine as possible.

but never be too pristine

you can’t be better than the rest.

then your a slu...

but where is my happiness?

when do i get a turn?

when can i shine

without beginning to burn?

i wear more makeup

get more pretty

but where is the light

in the dark of this city?

sure im more pretty

but i was happier then

sure i have friendships

but when will they end?

where is my happiness?

when can i stop pretending?

where did it go?

why is what i had ending?

-blank.page...

“You’re naming the horse?” Sierra eyed me suspiciously, watching over me the next day as I prepared another bottle of goat's milk for the foal. “You?”

“Can I not? Do you usually leave your horses unnamed?” My brain was like clockwork all last night, and I was convinced I hadn’t gone to sleep till 2 AM at the least. There was a whole notebook filled with my ideas. I just needed to work up the cour...