Penalty Points

by Bonnie Bryant

  “Not at you,” Stevie assured her. “I know you have to be totally careful because of who your father is and all that. No, the only one I’m mad at is Veronica.”

  “Why?” Lisa looked surprised. “Callie just said that she was the one who got them out and saved Scott from being caught.”

  Stevie scowled. “I know. That’s the problem. I hate being grateful to a snake like Veronica.”

  Callie smiled. She hadn’t been around for most of the years that Stevie and Veronica had known each other, but she’d heard enough stories to know that the two of them had never exactly been bosom buddies. “Well, then you’re really going to hate this,” she said. “Veronica has promised to be Scott’s alibi in case any of his political opponents get wind of what happened and try to use it against him. Everyone in school knows she doesn’t drink and doesn’t tolerate anyone who does.”

  “And besides, nobody will want the hassle of arguing with her.” Stevie cracked a grudging smile. “Well, she’s a pain in the butt, but I guess she does have her uses.” She cleared her throat. “As it turned out, she even managed to do some good while she was hanging all over Scott last night. I thought she’d end up monopolizing his attention, but instead she made the rounds with him, talking him up to everyone she knew.”

  “Does this mean you’re thinking of taking her on as your assistant campaign manager?” Carole teased.

  Stevie snorted. “Hardly,” she declared.

  At that moment, Scott himself appeared at the end of the hallway and hurried toward them. “Hi, everyone. What are you all doing hiding out back here?”

  “Talking about you,” Stevie replied pertly.

  “Really?” Scott grinned. “May I join in? That’s my favorite topic.”

  Callie rolled her eyes as the others laughed. “Actually, we were talking more about your new shadow, Veronica,” she told her brother.

  “Oh, in that case, I should probably let you know”—he turned to Stevie—”Ronnie had some really fantastic ideas last night for issues we could talk up before the election.”

  Stevie wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Veronica? Really? Like what?”

  Scott scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Let me see. For one thing, she thinks that we ought to jump on the bandwagon on that school dance idea a couple of the other candidates have mentioned. She thinks it’s an issue that everyone will care about, that it could make the difference in a close race, and I’m not sure she isn’t right about that. And she isn’t sure we should focus so much on the class budget stuff, since most people really don’t—”

  “Whatever,” Stevie cut in. She was a little annoyed that Veronica was second-guessing her campaign strategy—and that Scott actually seemed to be listening—but she didn’t want to get into it right then. She noticed Carole and Lisa exchanging glances and guessed they had sensed her irritation, but fortunately Scott seemed unaware that anything was wrong. “We can talk about it at school tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay,” Scott agreed cheerfully. “I’ll make a list, and maybe we can go over it before chemistry.”

  “Fine.” Stevie didn’t bother to tell him that most of “Ronnie’s” ideas were probably worthless. She would talk some sense into Scott tomorrow—after all, she was still his campaign manager, whatever delusions of grandeur Veronica might have.

  Scott glanced at his sister. “Ready to go, Callie?” He grinned. “Or do you need to stick around for some more girl talk about your big date next weekend?”

  Stevie’s eyes widened with sudden curiosity as Callie shot her brother a sour look. “What’s this?” Stevie cried. “Callie, is there something you’ve neglected to tell us?”

  Lisa felt curious too, suddenly remembering her last view of Callie at the party, talking earnestly with George Wheeler. But she knew that Callie was a very private person, and she didn’t think it was fair for them to put her on the spot. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t—” she began tactfully, but Stevie cut her off.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “Of course she has to tell us. I’m grounded for the rest of my life, remember? The only joy I’ll have from now on is hearing about what other people are doing.”

  Scott looked abashed. “Sorry, sis,” he told Callie. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t said anything about it.”

  “It’s okay.” Callie played absently with the ends of her long blond hair, not meeting anyone’s eye. “I hadn’t said anything because I haven’t decided what to do about him yet.”

  “Who?” Carole asked. “I mean, sorry to pry, but …”

  “George,” Callie replied frankly. “George Wheeler. He’s the one who asked me out. He wants to take me to dinner next Saturday night.”

  “That’s nice.” Stevie was doing her best to keep her voice neutral, but she was burning to know more. Once the party had started she had almost completely forgotten about George’s crush on Callie—she’d meant to keep an eye on the two of them to see what happened, but more pressing matters had intervened. “Um, so you’re not sure you’re going to go out with him?”

  Callie shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure about anything,” she admitted. “I mean, I had a really nice time dancing with him and talking to him last night. And he’s nice and smart and everything.… But I’m just not sure I see him that way, you know?”

  Stevie knew exactly what she meant. But she also knew how bad George had it for Callie, and she hated to think how hurt he would be if she didn’t even give him a chance. “I understand completely,” she said brightly. “Still, what’s the worst that could happen if you went out with him just this once? At least you’d get a nice dinner out of it.”

  “True.”

  Callie still looked uncertain, and Stevie could tell she wasn’t ready to make up her mind yet. “Well, good luck either way,” she said, glancing at her watch. “And I hate to say it, but I think I’d better run. I don’t want to tee off the folks on my first day of grounding or they’ll never parole me.”

  As they all said their good-byes and parted ways, Carole was still thinking idly about Callie’s news. Somehow, people’s romantic lives always seemed to take her by surprise. As she grabbed a pitchfork out of the tool closet and wandered down the stable aisle, she did her best to imagine what might have happened between Callie and George, what conversations they’d had to bring them to this point. But whatever she did, she couldn’t quite picture beautiful, elegant, self-possessed Callie actually going out with shy, bumbling, pudgy George.

  Suddenly her heart stopped as she recognized a familiar head of shaggy dark hair at the far end of the aisle. Then again, she told herself as she dodged into the nearest stall to avoid being spotted by Ben, who had apparently showed up at the stable that day after all, I don’t exactly have the best instincts about that sort of thing.

  She was thinking about the embarrassing incident with Ben, but she was also thinking about her ill-advised comment to Alex. Somehow, she always felt as if she was about three steps behind everyone else when it came to romantic relationships. She never quite knew what was expected of her or why other people did some of the things they did.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the pressure of a soft nose shoving gently at her shoulder. Turning, she realized for the first time that the stall she was hiding in was Prancer’s.

  “Hi, girl,” she murmured, rubbing the mare’s head and then slipping her arms around her neck for a hug. “What do you think? Do you know why people never act the way I expect them to?”

  The mare merely let her eyes droop half shut, obviously enjoying all the attention. Carole loosened her grip and started scratching Prancer in her favorite spot just behind her ears.

  Watching the mare’s gentle, contented face reminded Carole of Judy’s good news a little while earlier. It’s amazing what a difference something as small as an unborn foal’s tiny heartbeat can make to so many people, she thought as she absentmindedly scratched Prancer’s head. But I guess it’s that way with a lot of th
ings. Little details can have a big impact. When Samson and I compete in the horse show a few weeks from now, we’ll know that one misstep, one little penalty, could make the difference between winning and losing.

  Her thoughts wandered to her friends. A horse show was one thing, but at least there she knew what she was getting into. Real life could sometimes seem even trickier, she realized, because you weren’t always sure what penalties to watch out for before they tripped you up. Her mind flashed to Ben, then to Stevie and Alex and Lisa and A.J. and Scott. They had all survived the party; Carole and her friends had made up and forgiven each other for all the mistakes and misunderstandings; Lisa and Alex were back together. But still, Carole couldn’t help thinking how one night, one party, and a few little missteps had changed so many things … maybe forever.

  Turn the page to continue reading from the Pine Hollow series

  ONE

  “Don’t let her shy away from the road,” Carole Hanson called, tightening her reins as a large delivery truck roared past on the two-lane highway near where she and Stevie Lake were riding. “She needs to be ready for any distractions that may come up when she’s in the ring—you can’t let her forget you’re in charge.”

  Stevie gave Carole only a brief, disgruntled glance, saving most of her concentration for her horse, a spirited bay mare named Belle who was currently prancing sideways and shaking her head. “It’s okay, girl,” Stevie murmured, using all her riding skills to stop the mare from skittering away from the loud noise. She could tell the horse had been startled by the truck—the quiet country road was sparsely traveled, especially at four o’clock on a Thursday afternoon, and not a single vehicle had passed them in the five minutes they’d been trotting along the grassy verge.

  Once the truck had disappeared around a bend, Belle settled down. Stevie gave her a pat, then turned her away from the road and onto a faint path that led through a line of evergreens and into a broad, sun-dappled field. Even though it was the last day of October, the grass in the field was still green and lush, thanks to the lingering warmth of Indian summer in the girls’ northern Virginia town of Willow Creek.

  Carole caught up to Stevie on the other side of the trees, matching the pace of the big black gelding she was riding to that of Stevie’s horse as she shifted down to a walk. “Sorry if I sounded like Max junior back there,” Carole said apologetically, tucking a strand of curly black hair back under her hard hat. “I know you knew what to do.”

  “No biggie.” Stevie grinned at her friend. “I know you can’t help it. Anyway, you’ve got a long way to go before you’re as bossy as Max. You didn’t say a word about keeping my heels down.”

  Carole grinned back. “Well, now that you mention it …”

  Stevie adjusted her position slightly and tossed Carole a sloppy salute. “Thanks for the tip, Max junior,” she joked. She knew Carole wouldn’t mind the teasing, especially if it involved being compared to Max Regnery, the owner of Pine Hollow Stables, where both girls boarded their horses. Everyone who knew Carole knew that Max was one of her role models, and Stevie knew her better than most. The two girls had been best friends since junior high. Stevie knew that Carole’s dream was to work with horses full-time someday soon, just as Max did, although Carole still hadn’t decided whether she wanted to be a stable owner and riding instructor or explore some other career involving horses. At sixteen, she still had time to narrow down her choices. But she had gotten a jump start on her goals by taking on a part-time job at Pine Hollow.

  Stevie glanced forward between Belle’s pricked ears, automatically judging the footing ahead and noting the brief incline at the far end of the field. The sun felt warm on her face, and she was enjoying the nice weather, the fresh air, and the feeling of the responsive horse beneath her.

  But this was different from the many pleasure hacks she and Carole had taken over the years. For one thing, their other best friend, Lisa Atwood, wasn’t with them. And instead of meandering through a few of the many miles of quiet, remote trails behind the stable, where the silence was broken only by the sounds of birdsong and the soft clopping of the horses’ hooves, Carole had mapped out a wide-ranging course that would carry them past as many unusual and distracting sights and sounds as possible. It had begun on a short trail past Max’s house, where the stable owner’s young daughters and their puppy were playing noisily outside. After a quick jaunt through some thickly wooded parkland, the riders had emerged at a spot where a small stream tumbled down a steep hillside in a splattering waterfall. Taking a short detour past an electrical substation, they had reached the country highway and trotted along it for a short while, passing a cow field and several houses. Now they were leaving the road behind on their way toward a local goat farm.

  Despite the unusual route, Stevie was having a wonderful time, as she almost always did when she was riding her horse. It was definitely a pleasant change of pace from all the chores her parents had been making her do at home all week. “This is fun,” Stevie commented contentedly, steering Belle around a large stump in the field. She shot Carole a slightly guilty glance. “I mean, I know it’s totally serious and everything, too, and that it’s supposed to help the horses get used to unexpected sights and sounds or whatever, so they won’t get spooked.” She shrugged. “But it’s nice to just get out and ride like this, Colesford Horse Show or no Colesford Horse Show.”

  When she said the name of the upcoming event, she felt a little thrill of excitement that belied her casual words. The prestigious Colesford Horse Show was being held in a nearby town in a couple of weeks, and it was attracting top competitors from all along the East Coast. Stevie could hardly believe that she and Belle were really going to be a part of it. The other four riders Max had chosen—Carole, Ben Marlow, George Wheeler, and Denise McCaskill—were the best of the best. Stevie knew she was a good rider, too, but she also knew that it had been a leap of faith for Max to choose her to help represent Pine Hollow. She wasn’t going to let him down if she could help it.

  “I know what you mean.” Carole glanced over at Stevie and smiled. “Nobody says serious training has to be a drag, right?”

  “No way.” Stevie grinned and returned her glance. When Carole turned to check on their path, Stevie’s gaze lingered on the big black horse her friend was riding. Samson, a talented half-Thoroughbred gelding, had been born at Pine Hollow, but he had only recently returned to the stable after an absence of several years. During that time he had blossomed into an athletic, talented jumper, which was why Max had asked Carole to ride him in the Colesford show. Carole’s own horse, an eager bay gelding named Starlight, had always been a good jumper, but Max had thought he wouldn’t be a match for the level of competition expected at the show.

  Samson should be up to it, though, Stevie thought, still watching the black horse appraisingly. Carole, too. I know this is going to be a tough show, but if the two of them don’t place somewhere in the ribbons in show jumping, I’ll eat my hard hat.

  She didn’t tell Carole what she was thinking, knowing that her modest friend would only launch into a description of all the stiff competitors she would be facing. Instead she glanced at the farm they were approaching. Just ahead was a small pasture where half a dozen goats grazed, but Stevie’s gaze wandered past it to the farmhouse visible just beyond the goats’ enclosure. The white frame house was decorated with cutouts of witches and ghosts. A large jack-o’-lantern sat grinning on the slightly sagging front porch, and fake cobwebs drooped from the mailbox.

  Stevie’s good mood flagged slightly as she took in the decorations. “I can’t believe it’s Halloween and I’m grounded,” she said. “While everyone else is out having fun tonight, I’ll be stuck at home, probably helping Mom organize the attic or changing the oil in her car or something. I’m going to miss the whole holiday. If that’s not cruel and unusual punishment, I don’t know what is.”

  Carole noticed that Stevie’s voice had suddenly taken on a grumpy tone. Halloween had always been one of Stev
ie’s favorite days of the year—it was tailor-made for her fun-loving, adventurous, fearless personality. In her younger days she and her three brothers had found countless ways of getting into all sorts of spooky mischief and causing mayhem, playing endless practical jokes on each other and everyone else they knew. These days they were all a little older and more mature, but Stevie and her twin brother, Alex, still weren’t above dressing up and doing their best to scare the trick-or-treaters who came to their door.

  “Look on the bright side,” Carole advised. “At least your parents are still letting you be in the horse show. That’s practically a miracle, right?”

  “True,” Stevie agreed, tugging firmly at Belle’s reins as the mare tried to stretch her neck toward a patch of weeds near the goats’ fence. “Plus they’re okay with my running Scott’s campaign.”

  “How’s that going?” Carole asked. With everything else that had been happening lately, she had almost forgotten that Stevie was in charge of their friend Scott Forester’s campaign for student body president at Fenton Hall, the private school that he and Stevie attended. Carole went to Willow Creek High, the local public high school, so she had to rely on Stevie for updates. “Was there any fallout from the party? You know, because, well …”

  “Nope.” Stevie shook her head. “Veronica was as good as her word. She’s been telling anyone who’ll listen that she and Scott were practically the only ones who kept their heads and didn’t drink.” She grimaced slightly. “Believe me, it’s not easy for me to admit, but Veronica diAngelo has actually been a help. I don’t know what we would have done if word had gotten out that Scott was drinking. Even though he really only had a few sips of beer, I’m sure Valerie Watkins’s friends would have made him out to be some kind of total boozer loser.” She shuddered at the thought.