I first saw her in English class. After a quick forty-minute search of Google, I found out that she had been an equestrian since middle school. My first thought was to immediately enroll in an eight month long equestrian program. I went the extra-mile and completed it in nine.

Now more confident than ever, I’m taking my horse Klaus to school and finally asking my crush out. The cars honk at us as we merge onto the highway. We make it two miles before we are pulled over by a police officer. He tells me that Klaus’ tags are expired. I check behind Klaus’ tail. He’s right. God, that’s so embarrassing. Thankfully the officer lets us off with a warning. He was young and in love once too.

When we exit the highway and enter my school’s campus, we are stopped by security. They tell me that I can’t go any farther because Klaus is the most beautiful horse they’ve ever seen. They reach out their hands to pet him, but I wave them off. Klaus isn’t some common animal, he’s a goddamn horse. I take Klaus into the building. We pass Principal Sullivan, and he points to the no-horses sign on the wall. He tears it down in front of us and gives Klaus an approving nod.

When we get to the classroom, I find my crush sitting alone. Our teacher and classmates are in the hallway still celebrating Klaus’ arrival. I tell my crush I love her. That’s when I remember that equestrians don’t love other equestrians. They love horses. She locks eyes with Klaus and then kisses him. Klaus whinnies uncomfortably. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “You deserve it.”