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Once we were under the trees there was little underbrush and we soon could see that it was a tiny stone house. It was obviously deserted, most of the windows were gone and all that really remained were the stone walls and chimney. It was apparent that people had been there, probably other kids. There were beer cans and broken bottles strewn all over and blackened earth from recent camp fires. Danny darted ahead of me and peeked in one of the open windows before going to the door. As Erika and I watched from a safe distance Danny pried the door open while Steve approached. As he entered the little house he yelled that it was cool and for us to join him. Steve followed him inside as Erika and I quickly ran to the door. When I got to the open door I could see Steve and Danny in the dim light checking out an old chair which, besides a bench, were the only things in the otherwise empty one-room dwelling. ‘This is great,’ Steve exclaimed as he plopped down into the worn dusty cushions of. You give your eyes another rub before swallowing and opening up your orientation guide.Oh fuck. If your head wasn't spinning before, it sure as hell was now. You told these people you had years of experience horseback riding? That you were deeply versed in all manner of period knowledge? That....that you won the fucking silver medal in fencing?! You moan, letting your forehead drop dramatically onto the carefully bullet-pointed list of all your outrageous lies. Maybe if you had told them you won the bronze instead, you wouldn't be in this mortifying situation.Abruptly, however, you sit back up. Hey, what's all this wailing and gnashing of teeth?! Fake it 'til you make it, right? A whole summer of peacocking around, waving a fake sword for cute actresses in more low-cut than strictly period gowns? That beats the shit out of tearing ticket stubs. The worst that can happen is they take one look at you and send you home, after all. And who knows, maybe you'll be great! You've ridden.
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