She’s the kind of girl that gets her nails done every two weeks, that has riding outfits sorted in color-coordination. Someone changes immediately if something stains her clothes. A diva, or princess some might say. Just another rich girl at a fancy horse stable. The kind of girl that hates anything dirty and disgusting - rodents, spiders, frogs, mud. Someone that always gets her way, no matter what. And she knows it, too. And yet, she’s a show jumper. Precise, confident, controlled.

And that’s what intrigued him. Or maybe amused him? He was just the farm mechanic. His uncle owned an equipment repair company that’s contracted with the farm. And he’d been helping out there since he was about 13. He was 18 now. And he was pretty much the polar opposite of her. He smelled of gasoline and he was pretty much always dirty. Whenever he was seen, he was either working on tractors, arena groomers or horse trailers. And most importantly, something he was especially known for, he’d be riding his dirt bike. Training for his motocross competitions. The thing he loved most.

To her, he’s just a noisy chaos. A walking dirt block. She had never seen him wearing or doing anything proper. That wasn’t who he was. She was sure that his go to outfit when leaving the house were sweatpants and a hoodie, if he wasn’t on that stupid bike. To her he was just another immature boy.