Riding on Air by Maggie Gilbert

cooped up in a tiny yard at night with no grass. A week in the paddock to stretch his legs and graze will do him the world of good.”
    Even as I blinked back unshed tears, I scowled at my father. Bringing in Jinx’s welfare was a low, low blow.
    â€œA week? You said a few days,” I protested, but I was done and both Dad and I knew it. That meant I was going to be back at school before I was even allowed to ride again. And with winter coming, the days were getting so short I’d be pushing it to ride by the time I got home off the bus. It wasn’t fair.
    â€œThis isn’t a punishment, honey. It’s a precaution. I want to make sure this flare up has run its course before you go aggravating those joints. OK?”
    â€œYes,” I mumbled, throat thick with frustration. So much for the silver lining. Whoever thought up that saying up is a total moron.
    After Dad left I sat staring at my plate, blinking frantically to keep the tears from falling. Gary would tease me for being a sook if he saw me cry over something so stupid. Only, it wasn’t stupid to me.
    â€œMelissa, are you gonna eat that?” Gary said finally.
    I shook my head, my appetite gone. “You can have it,” I said and went to push the plate towards him at the same time he reached out to grab the slice of toast. His hand banged into mine and a molten-steel explosion of pain engulfed me from my fingertips to my shoulder. I yelped and snatched my hand back, too late. I could only hunch over with it cradled to my chest, trying not to let the pathetic whimpers escape along with the tears that gushed helplessly out of my eyes.
    â€œCareful, Gary, dickhead!” shouted Brendan.
    â€œShit, Melissa, shit. God, I’m sorry.”
    I sensed them hovering, hangovers and toast and everything else forgotten as they had to sit and wait for the pain to ease, me just as helpless to do anything about it as they were. I rocked, gritting my teeth, unable to speak or think or move. Only able to wait and pray and hope that eventually the millions of razor-sharp little knives slicing and dicing inside my fingers would stop waging their war on my joints. And after an eternity, they did.
    I trembled, gulping back tears and carefully sat up a bit, letting out a shuddering sigh that turned into a hiccup as the wicked claws finally released their grip on my bones. My vision cleared and I blinked as my stepbrothers’ anxious faces came slowly back into focus. Brendan was green again and Gary looked as though he might cry himself. I grinned at the thought and the relief that washed through their expressions would have been funny if I wasn’t still frozen on the edge of the pain shadow, when the dull throb of the after tremors started rattling up from my bone-marrow.
    I drew another cautious breath and leaned back gingerly in my chair. I lifted my other arm and used the back of my arm to swipe at the tears drying stickily on my cheeks. When I felt like I was steady enough to speak I looked at Gary. I didn’t want him getting all anxious and over-protective on me. He hadn’t meant to hurt me, it was just one of those things. I managed to give him a reassuring smile, even though my hands were doing a little crappy-dance, the pain tango.
    â€œI still need someone to do my hair,” I said.
    â€œI’m really sorry Melissa.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œI didn’t mean it.”
    â€œI know.”
    Brendan hopped up and turned the kettle on. “I’ll make you a tea, Melissa. Do you need a pill? I’ll think of something to tell Dad.”
    â€œThanks,” I said and hesitated, really tempted. “Nah, not yet. I’ll wait and see if it settles down.”
    â€œI’m so—”
    â€œYeah, yeah, we get the picture,” Brendan said. “Dickhead.”
    â€œShut up.”
    The kettle boiled and switched itself off, distracting Brendan, luckily, because he looked as though it