“Thank you,” I said. I patted Charm’s neck and he bowed it, proud of his performance.
“Let’s run through a few flatwork exercises and then you can cool your horses,” Mr. Conner said. “Everyone please move out to the wall.”
And for the next half hour, Brit, Heather, and I worked as a team to sharpen our YENT skills.
18
CONFIDENT, NOT COCKY
“WHEEEW,” BRIT SAID. “THAT WAS INTENSE.”
“No kidding,” I agreed. We led two tired horses beside us. “Mr. Conner is always focused before a show, but that was a crazy practice session.”
“Are you taking tomorrow off?” Brit asked. “Or are you practicing?”
“I’m going to do a light workout with Charm, but nothing too stressful. He needs to be rested before the show.”
“I was thinking the same about Apollo,” Brit said, she smiled. “And, it sounds so wimpy, but I’m glad for the break too!”
“It’s not wimpy!” We both laughed. “I’m going to need a break tomorrow too, trust me. You are definitely not the only one.”
We led the horses in slow circles along one of the quiet lanes by the side of the stable.
“How are things with Paige?” Brit asked.
I sighed. “Weird. There’s definitely tension about Callie, and even though I told her I’m glad they’re still friends, I still feel like she’s going behind my back to see Callie. It’s so unnecessary.” I blew out a breath—frustrated. “It’s just hard. Paige and I used to be supertight, and we told each other everything. Things have really changed a lot this semester.”
Brit nodded. “I know what you mean. I had the same best friend from kindergarten until sixth grade. We could have been sisters—we were that close. Then, she fell in with the popular crowd in middle school and I didn’t. I didn’t care about being popular. But she did. She started ditching me to hang out with her new friend and after a while, she didn’t even text me back.”
“Wow,” I said. “I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“It was,” Brit said. She rubbed Apollo’s neck as we walked. “But it also showed me that I never wanted to be one of those girls who was in a clique or thought she was above everyone else.”
“Honestly?” I said. “When you first came here, I thought you were probably the most popular girl at your school. I was sure you’d join Heather and her friends. Or act like Jasmine—this awful girl who transferred here and made everyone miserable.”
Brit burst into laughter. “Are you serious? You thought I was going to be a crazy popular girl who ran Canterwood?”
“Only until I got to know you,” I said. “Then I realized you’re not cocky and you don’t think you’re better than everyone else. You’re confident. I wish I had more of that.”
Brit and I walked in silence for a few seconds, listening to the even sound of our horses’ hoofbeats over the grass.
Brit looked at me, her expression serious. “You don’t give yourself enough credit for how good of a rider you are. If you saw yourself in the arena, you’d be walking around with what ‘confidence’ you think I have. You’re a great rider, Sash, and it doesn’t matter if you’re on the YENT, at Canterwood, Briar Creek, or any other stable—you’d still be just as good. I’d bet you that the talent was always there and it just needed to be drawn out.”
I kept walking, unsure what to say. “Thank you,” I finally managed. “That really means a lot, especially right before a show. I know we’re on the same team, but you didn’t have to say any of that.”
Brit shook her head, smiling. “I wasn’t saying it as a teammate. I was saying it as your friend.”
We smiled at each other, turning the horses back toward the stable.
“And if you ever want to talk about the Paige sitch,” Brit said. “I’m here to listen. If things don’t get better and you can’t deal, it would be so much fun to be roommates.”
“Thanks so much,” I said. “For both offers. I’ll definitely talk to you about Paige if things don’t get better, but I know we’re going to work it out. But you’re supercool for offering to be my roommate.”
The horses’ shoes clinked as they hit the aisle, and we walked them to crossties. We couldn’t find a pair together and, just this once, I was glad. I untacked Charm and started grooming him on autopilot. I couldn’t even believe it, but I was thinking about Brit’s offer. I knew I’d never move out of Winchester and leave Paige, but right now, living with Brit sounded tempting.
19
GUEST STARRING AT LUNCH …
ON SATURDAY, I CROSSED THE COURTYARD, heading for the stable. I knew it was going to be packed today with everyone who was attending the show wanting to get in a last-minute practice session.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my jacket pocket.
Ur prob already @ stable but g luck w ur practice
Jacob’s text made me smile.
Thx! Hope u have a fun Sat.
I put my phone back in my pocket took in a breath of fresh air. Two major things were happening tomorrow, but I could only focus on one at a time. And first up? The show. The weather was perfect today, and Brit and I had texted and agreed to meet in the big outdoor arena at ten. We planned on having a light practice, then going for lunch. I still didn’t know what class she was showing in. Mr. Conner had restricted us to one, since it was our first show of the season. I’d already decided on show jumping.
It didn’t take long for me to groom and tack up Charm. I led him down the aisle, weaving around the other horses and students. We got outside and I mounted, letting him move at a springy walk toward the arena.
“Just an easy practice today, boy,” I said. “We both have to rest up for tomorrow.”
Charm snorted like he agreed, and we reached the arena. Brit was walking Apollo in slow circles.
“Hey!” she called, heading for us.
“Hey,” I said back. “Final chance before the show. You ready?”
Brit nodded and patted Apollo’s shoulder. “So ready. I was planning on riding for about forty-five minutes—that seems long enough.”
“Agreed,” I said. “I’m not pushing Charm either. I’m just going to run him through a bunch of flatwork exercises to loosen him up.”
“Same.”
Brit and I moved our horses to opposite ends of the arena. I hid a smile when I watched an intermediate rider move his horse far out of the way from Charm and me. That used to be you, I thought. It had taken me forever to adjust to saying I was on Canterwood Crest’s advanced riding team. Now, I had to almost force out the words “I’m a rider for the YENT.” It seemed surreal.
I started Charm with figure eights at a walk, then a trot. I let the pattern get bigger and moved him into a canter. With each completion of the exercise, I felt his muscles loosen. After a few more rounds of figure eights, we did serpentines. Looking down at the opposite end of the arena, I watched Brit work Apollo at a collected trot. The gray gelding had his head down and his legs moved with precision. I squinted, focusing on his left foreleg. For a second I thought he’d favored it. I kept watching, waiting for any warning signs, but he didn’t take a misstep or act at all like his hoof was sore.
Satisfied, I focused my attention back on Charm and asked him to halt. My lower back felt tight, so I did a few twists in the saddle, then reached down to touch my toes. Charm stood still as I worked out my body.
After a few more stretches I asked Charm for an extended walk around the length of the arena. I let him trot, relaxed, and noticed the arena was starting to fill up with other horses and riders. I slowed Charm to a walk, reaching down to feel his neck and shoulders. He felt warm and loose.
I looked over at Brit, waiting for her to look in my direction. She did, and I pointed to the exit. Nodding, she trotted Apollo over, and we left the arena together.
“That was perfect,” she said. “Just enough.”
“I agree,” I said. “There’s nothing else we can improve between now and to
morrow morning. We’re as ready as we’re going to be.”
We cooled and groomed the horses, then mucked their stalls and gave them fresh hay and water.
I kept Charm on the crossties and pulled out the clippers from his tack trunk. He wasn’t spooked by the seminoisy clippers, so I didn’t need help holding him. Loosening his halter, I slid it down his neck so his bridle path was clear. I plugged in the red clippers and turned them on. They whirred as I ran them up and down Charm’s bridle path until it was smooth and neat.
I changed the blade and carefully ran the clippers over Charm’s muzzle until his long chin hairs were gone. He blinked at me, sleepy, as I got him ready for tomorrow.
“You couldn’t enjoy this just a bit more, huh?” I teased.
After his bridle path, chin, ears, and fetlocks were trimmed, I turned him loose in his stall.
Charm took a not-so-dainty slurp of water, dribbling everywhere. I laughed, watching him from outside the stall.
“Get a good night’s sleep, boy,” I said. “Love you and see you in the morning.”
I picked up his tack and walked to the tack room. Brit was inside, sitting on a saddle pad and cleaning Apollo’s bridle.
I grabbed a sponge and went to work on Charm’s tack.
“Is it weird that I actually like cleaning tack?” Brit asked.
“No way,” I said. “I don’t mind it either. It’s probably because we’re doing it for our horses and we want them to look and feel good.”
“Definitely,” Brit said. “Agreed.”
We cleaned our tack regularly, so after soaping our bridles and saddles, we buffed them to a soft sheen.
“Nice work,” Brit said, high-fiving me as we put on our saddle covers and hung up our bridles.
“I think we deserve dessert with lunch, don’t you?” I asked as we headed out.
“Um, most definitely,” Brit said.
We walked to The Sweet Shoppe and washed up in the bathroom. At the counter, I ordered a corn dog and fries while Brit got a burger and a shake. We took our food to a comfy booth and, starving, I shoved fries into my mouth.
Brit, who’d taken a giant bite of her burger, saw the fries sticking out of my mouth and covered her mouth as she started to laugh.
“Stop!” I said, laughing too, but trying to swallow. “I’m so hungry!”
“Me too,” Brit said, wiping her eyes. “I was just thinking how ridic we probably both looked right then.”
“Point,” I said. “I probably looked like Charm when he stuffs his face with hay.”
We grinned at each other and went back to our lunches.
I looked up when I felt someone waiting at the counter staring at me.
Callie.
She took her bag and headed toward us.
“Good luck tomorrow,” she said. Her comment seemed directed at both of us, not just Brit.
“Um, thanks,” I said.
“You too,” Brit said.
“I’m sure you’ll do well for Canterwood’s YENT team,” Callie said.
And, with that, she walked out of The Sweet Shoppe. Brit and I looked at each other—neither of us having the right words.
20
KILLER DISTRACTION TECHNIQUE
“GOOD LUCK, EVEN THOUGH YOU SOOO DON’T need it,” Paige said, hugging me. It was early Sunday morning, and I was dressed in my pre-show clothes: yoga pants and a hoodie. I wore my breeches and show shirt under my casual clothes in case Charm decided to sneeze on me, which he’d done before. Several times.
“Thanks, P,” I said. “I keep telling myself that it’s just a schooling show, but I’m so nervous because it’s my first time as a YENT rider.”
Paige let go of me and shook her head. “You should walk in there like you own the place because you are a YENT rider.”
That made me smile. She was back to the old Paige this morning, and I felt comforted by that.
“Right,” I said, taking a breath. I shouldered my bag with my show boots and pulled open our door. “Text you later!”
“Go, Team Sasha!” Paige cheered.
I made a “shhh!” motion with my finger. It was barely five in the morning, and everyone else on our floor was probably still asleep. But Paige had gotten up with me when my alarm had gone off, and she’d distracted me with entertainment gossip until I’d been ready to leave.
I tiptoed down the hallway and eased open the door. It was still black outside as I made my way across campus and walked to the stable. I looked up at the sky, focusing on a star.
This is superlame because it’s not even a shooting star, but whatever, I told myself. I wish I could do well at the show today. I don’t even have to win—I just want to prove to Mr. Nicholson that he made the right choice in choosing me for the team.
I stopped, closed my eyes for a second, then kept walking. The chilly air had made me alert and awake the second I stepped outside, and I shivered in my jacket. I couldn’t wait for the sun to come up.
Lights blazed in the dark as I neared the stable. Mike, Doug, and Mr. Conner were all moving from rider to rider. I waved to a sleepy-looking Alison who was wrapping Sunstruck’s legs with blue wraps for the trailer ride over. She was keeping him in his stall instead of on crossties since the Arabian had a tendency to get nervous when he knew he was going to travel. But Alison’s calm personality meshed with the Arabian’s high-strung personality and the two were a perfect match.
“How’s he doing?” I asked her. I reached over the stall door and rubbed Sunstruck’s cheek. The Arabian’s nostrils were flaring pink and the palomino was sweating even in the cool air.
“He’s nervous, you can tell,” Alison said. “But I know he’ll be fine. After he’s bandaged, I’m taking him away from the craziness of the stable. Mr. Conner told me to lead him up and down the lanes with Mike or Doug’s help if I need it.”
“That’s a good plan,” I said. “Let me know if you need help.”
Alison smiled. “Thanks, Sash.”
Julia had Trix on crossties and I ducked under them. The black mare was unfazed by the commotion of the stable, and she looked half-asleep as Julia groomed her. We traded quick smiles, and I headed for Charm’s stall. I wanted to start waking him up before I got his tack.
“Hey, guy,” I said, softly. “Time to wake up.”
Charm’s tail was to me and he had his head down in the corner. His hind leg was cocked and he was in a deep sleep.
“Charmy …” I called him a name I knew he hated.
He lifted his head and turned around to face me.
“Sorry,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I know how much you hate that name. But I had to wake you up. I’ll be right back with your tack and then we’ll get you groomed and ready to go.”
On my way down the aisle, I passed Callie. Like me, she was in sweats. She stared ahead, not saying a word or looking at me. In the tack room, I grabbed Charm’s gear and put it on top of his trunk. Mike or Doug would load it in the storage bin in the trailer.
I reached Charm’s stall and led him out. He’d stayed clean overnight, so it only took minutes for me to brush his body, pick his hooves, and run a comb through his mane and tail.
“Listen up, please,” Mr. Conner called. “The trailers will be leaving in fifteen minutes. I suggest you start leading your horses out front so we can begin loading. It should take us about twenty minutes to get there, so no falling asleep on the ride over.” He smiled at us.
I tried to force my stomach to stop flip-flopping.
“Let’s go, boy,” I said to Charm. We walked outside, and I led him over to Brit who was waiting with Apollo.
“Is he a good traveler?” I asked Brit.
“The best,” she said. “What about Charm?”
“Oh, he’ll only sleep the entire twenty-minute ride.”
We laughed and waited for our turn to have Mike or Doug load our horses.
Mike came and held out his hand for Charm’s lead line. I kissed Charm’s muzzle and handed the lead t
o Mike.
“See you there, boy.”
Doug came and took Apollo from Brit, and we both climbed into the same truck, Brit sliding in next to Heather.
“Here we go,” Heather said. “We’ve all got about twenty minutes to think about how we’re going to win and not mess this up.”
I shook my head at her. “Very inspiring pep talk, Heather. Thanks.”
Heather flashed a cocky grin at me. “Oh, Silver. It wasn’t a pep talk. It was a you-better-not-mess-up-on-my-team-or-I’ll-have-to-hurt-you talk.”
As much as I didn’t want to, I laughed. Heather’s attitude distracted me from being afraid.
21
FOUR, THREE, TWO …
“HERE WE ARE,” MIKE SAID, PULLING THE trailer onto the show grounds. There were hundreds of horses and riders everywhere—I’d never seen so many. Because it was a schooling show, riders of all age group and levels of riding had come to prep for show season. Mike pulled the trailer up to an empty parking spot and turned off the ignition. He got out of the truck, heading for the back to unload the horses.
“There are so many riders,” I said, my voice squeaky.
Heather looked around Brit and glared at me. “Okay. Look. Half of them are, like, what? Under seven? The other half beginner and intermediate with very few YENT riders. You’ve probably seen one in this entire crowd. So shut up and get out of the truck.”
“Okay, okay,” I grumbled. But I was secretly glad for her not-so-scientific breakdown of the competition.
Brit, Heather, and I got our horses and headed to open stalls to groom and tack them up.
The three of us were ready in record time, and I pulled off my jacket and sweat pants. I looped Charm’s reins around my arm and sat on an empty tack trunk, swapping my paddock boots for my show boots.
Mr. Conner met Heather, Brit, and me near the exit of the stable. “Take your time walking the course. Then, warm up your horses and then we’ll head to the show jumping arena,” he said. “The three of you have your jumping class first.”
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