Shying at Trouble

by Bonnie Bryant

She leaned over to kiss him again. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not planning to let him go for a good long time.

  It was completely dark by the time Stevie approached the turnoff for Pine Hollow on her way home. On an impulse, she decided to stop in and say hello to Belle. She hadn’t been to the stable in a couple of days, and she missed her horse.

  The stable was hushed and dim when she entered, the aisles lit only by the safety lights, which stayed on all the time. Not bothering to flick on the brighter overheads, Stevie hurried across the entryway toward the stable aisle. When she turned the corner, she almost jumped out of her skin. Someone else was standing in the middle of the aisle.

  “Hello?” she called uncertainly, startled to find anyone in the place this late, with no lights.

  When the figure turned, she immediately recognized George Wheeler’s pale, round face. He looked as surprised to see her as she was to see him. “Stevie?” he called back. “Um, hi. I didn’t—that is, I wasn’t—I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

  “Neither did I.” Stevie wondered what he was doing on this side of the stable. His horse, Joyride, was housed on the opposite arm of the U-shaped row of stalls. Reaching his side, she glanced curiously at the stall closest to him and met PC’s placid face staring sleepily back at her. “I just stopped by to say hi to Belle.”

  George glanced at PC, looking embarrassed. “I—um, I came to check on Joyride. The farrier was here earlier, and I asked him to put new shoes on her if he had time.”

  “Oh.” Stevie didn’t bother to mention that they weren’t anywhere near Joyride’s stall. The fact was obvious. “Well, I guess I’d better be—”

  “Stevie?” George interrupted suddenly, his dimpled cheeks blushing a mottled pink. “Um, could I—I mean, I wonder if I could talk to you about something. It’s—well, it’s sort of private, but I thought you—that is, I just wanted to say it.”

  “Say what?” Stevie asked, feeling confused and uncomfortable. She’d never spent much time chatting with George, but as far as she knew he wasn’t usually this incomprehensible.

  George took a deep breath and glanced around. “It’s kind of hard to talk about,” he said in a stronger voice, seeming to take some strength from the cozy intimacy of the evening stable. “I’ve never really felt anything like this, and I—I’m not quite sure how to act. Or what to do. Or even if I should do anything at all. I mean, I know I’m not exactly the best-looking guy in the world, or—”

  Suddenly Stevie realized what this had to be about. “Are you talking about Callie?”

  George gulped. “How did you—I mean, I—”

  “It’s okay.” Stevie smiled at him reassuringly. “I sort of suspected you liked her.”

  George’s face turned a deeper shade of pink. “You did?” he said faintly. “How? I mean, I hope I haven’t been—”

  “Don’t worry. You haven’t been that obvious,” Stevie broke in. “I’m sure Callie herself doesn’t suspect a thing—I haven’t breathed a word.” She grinned at him. “But you’re lucky I’d already guessed. The way you were talking, I might never have figured it out.”

  “I’m not very good at these things.” George sighed, looking so sad that Stevie started worrying that she’d said something wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t making fun of you or anything. I know it’s hard to talk about these things sometimes.” Especially to someone you barely even know, she thought.

  George seemed to have an inkling of her thoughts. “I know you and I don’t know each other that well,” he said, sounding a bit sheepish. “But I know you’re friends with Callie. And at school you always seem … well, pretty confident and everything. I thought maybe you could help me. You know, give me some advice on what to do.”

  “Uh, sure,” Stevie said dubiously. “But what—”

  “It’s my father’s fault, really,” George interrupted in a sudden rush. As soon as the words were out of his mouth his eyes widened, giving him the effect of a rabbit who’d wandered into a stampede. “Sorry,” he said, gulping nervously. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “Say what?” Stevie was feeling more and more confused. She wasn’t really sure what George wanted from her. The only thing that was clear was that he was terribly stricken about something.

  George chewed on a fingernail for a moment, seeming uncertain how to answer. He glanced around the quiet stable aisle once more. “My father—he and my mom are divorced now. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

  Stevie nodded, waiting for him to go on. She had no idea why he was telling her this, but she couldn’t help being curious.

  “He always likes to call himself a ‘real man.’” A touch of bitterness came into George’s voice. “He’s really macho—the type of guy who never backs down from a fight, who never lets women or anyone else give him any bull.” His mouth twisted in an ironic smile. “My mom didn’t think much of that, I guess.”

  “Hmmm.” Stevie wasn’t sure what else to say.

  George shrugged, his face pained. “I guess I was a big disappointment to him,” he said softly. “I was never much into sports other than riding, which he considered a ‘girly’ thing to do. And I guess I—I used to cry too easily when I was little. When kids picked on me in school or whatever. He really hated that—used to say I was a big softy and I should’ve been born a girl.”

  “Wow.” Stevie shook her head sympathetically. “Sounds pretty harsh.”

  George laughed self-consciously. “Sorry to dump all this on you,” he said. “I just wanted you to understand why I—I never know what to say. Around Callie, I mean. I—she’s the first girl I’ve really—”

  He broke off again, but Stevie nodded. “I understand,” she said, though she wasn’t quite sure she did.

  “Please don’t tell anyone,” George said urgently. “What I’ve told you. About my father and—and Callie.”

  “I won’t,” Stevie promised. “You can trust me.” She was feeling a bit uncomfortable with this whole conversation. Why had George decided to confide in her about something so personal? Why had he chosen to speak to her about his crush on Callie at all?

  It would have been easier if she’d had the slightest suspicion that Callie might return George’s feelings. If this had been Ben Marlow confiding an interest in Carole, for instance … Stevie shook her head slightly, trying to stay focused. What was her responsibility here? Most of the time she considered people’s love lives their own business, to handle as they saw fit. But George was so earnest, so sincere and innocent and trusting. Should she really keep silent in this case, thereby tacitly encouraging him to continue a crush that was unlikely ever to be mutual?

  What else can I do? she thought helplessly. It’s not my place to speak for Callie. I don’t even know for sure that she doesn’t like George.

  Moving past that last thought, which sounded naive even inside her own head, she cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she told George brightly, “I’m glad I ran into you. You know Emily Williams, right?”

  “Uh-huh.” George looked a bit perplexed at the sudden change of topic.

  Stevie plowed ahead. “Well, then you probably heard she’s moving soon. We’re having a good-bye party for her a week from Saturday at my house—it should be a blast. We want all her friends to come.” She smiled. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”

  “The Saturday after this one?” George asked. “Um, okay. Is—uh, is Callie going to be there?”

  “Of course.” Stevie was careful to keep her smile as cheerful as ever. “See you then, okay?”

  As she hurried off toward Belle’s stall, she tried to tell herself she’d done all she could to help George. He probably just needed someone to listen to him, she thought. And at least now he’ll have a whole week to look forward to seeing Callie at the party. She bit her lower lip guiltily. Whatever happens after that is up to him—and Callie.

  FIFTEEN

  “This is kind of nice, isn’t it?” Lisa co
mmented, glancing around the Hansons’ comfortable living room. “Sort of like old times.”

  “Nice?” Stevie shot her a disgruntled look. “Nice? You wouldn’t be saying that if you were taking the PSATs in less than thirteen hours.”

  Carole smiled ruefully. “She probably would, actually,” she said. “She wouldn’t be worried because she’d know she was going to ace it.”

  “Very funny.” Lisa couldn’t help grinning sheepishly. It was true that it was easy to be relaxed and nostalgic when her PSATs and SATs were both behind her. She remembered how frantic she’d been while she was preparing for the important tests—not to mention how happy and relieved she’d been when her results had come weeks afterward and she’d found out that it had all paid off in excellent scores.

  All that aside, she still thought it was awfully nice to be sitting there with her two best friends in the world, with the house to themselves and most of Friday evening still in front of them. Carole’s father was out at some fancy political dinner in nearby Washington, D.C., but he had made sure the house was well stocked with pizza and junk food. “For once, I don’t even miss Alex,” Lisa commented contentedly.

  Stevie snorted. “I never miss Alex.” She was flipping through the pages in her PSAT study guide as she sprawled on the Hansons’ couch. “I still can’t believe my parents let him go to that soccer game at Chad’s college tonight. I think the only reason they let me come over here is because they thought Lisa would be a good influence. And because I swore I’d be home—in bed—by ten-thirty.” She glanced down at the page in front of her. “By the way, does anyone know what bucolic means?”

  “I think it means something having to do with rural-type stuff,” Carole volunteered, leaning forward from her seat in her father’s favorite easy chair to reach for her soda glass. “You know, like sheep or pastures or whatever.” She glanced at her watch, almost spilling the soda in her lap in the process. “That reminds me, Paradise Ranch comes on in a little while.”

  “I know. I’m watching the time.” Lisa had no intention of missing an episode of the television show she’d worked on all summer in California.

  Stevie checked her own watch. “Hey, we ought to take a break before it starts and call a few more people about the party.”

  Lisa nodded. They had all been spreading the word about Emily’s farewell blowout since the day before, and they planned to call and invite as many people as they could that evening in between watching TV and reviewing PSAT vocabulary words. “Who wants to hit the phones next?”

  “I will,” Stevie volunteered, sitting up and pushing her book aside. “But only if you’ll let me call Veronica and disinvite her.”

  Lisa and Carole exchanged a glance and a grin. None of them was happy that Veronica had heard about the party and invited herself via Scott, but the wealthy, self-centered girl had always irritated Stevie more than anyone. “Why don’t you call A.J. first?” Lisa suggested. “I know he’s not speaking to Phil these days, but we still ought to invite him.”

  “I guess,” Stevie agreed reluctantly. She sighed as she walked toward the phone on Colonel Hanson’s big mahogany desk. “I don’t know what good it’ll do, though. There’s no way he’ll come. He’s not exactly a party kind of guy these days, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “Call him,” Lisa said firmly. She knew it was probably an exercise in futility, but she couldn’t help hoping that A.J. would come. It would do him good to have some fun with his friends after his weeks of gloom and solitude. Besides, she was sure that if he and Phil spent a little time in the same room, A.J. would get over being angry.

  Phil only did what he thought was best, Lisa thought as Stevie dialed the phone. He was right to tell A.J.’s parents what was going on. How else could they help A.J. stop hurting? It reminded her a little of her fight with Carole. Some secrets were better not kept—they only ended up hurting people more by their existence. Phil had done the right thing by speaking up.

  Then again, there were secrets that might be better kept forever—like the secret between her and Alex. What would either of them gain if she told him she’d almost stayed in California? It wouldn’t change the fact that she’d decided to come home instead. It wouldn’t change the fact that she would have kept loving him either way. All it would do was open up wounds that had almost healed, cause arguments that might never lead to a resolution.

  Maybe it would be better if I never told him, Lisa thought. I don’t want it to stand between us from now on. Besides, I may have to face this issue again soon enough when it’s time to decide where I’m going to college. Why ruin the time we have together now?

  A month earlier it would have been unthinkable for her to consider keeping such an important secret from Alex. But just at the moment, it seemed even more unthinkable to risk their entire relationship by telling.

  She glanced at Stevie, suddenly remembering that she and Alex weren’t the only ones involved in this particular secret. Lisa had told her two best friends of her decision as soon as she’d made it. Carole seemed to have forgotten all about it, but Stevie had recently discovered that her twin still didn’t know and begged Lisa to tell him. Lisa knew it would be unfair of her to ask Stevie to keep secrets from her own brother.

  She didn’t know what to do. All she knew was that she’d better decide soon, before too much more time had passed. It would be difficult enough to explain to Alex as it was, assuming she did decide to tell.…

  Stevie hung up the phone, still hardly daring to believe what she’d just heard. “Amazing,” she declared. “He said yes!”

  Carole looked up from her study guide in surprise. “Really?”

  Stevie nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. People were really incredible sometimes. Just when you thought you had them figured out, they changed yet again. “He actually sounded pretty chipper,” she said. “He’s still mad at Phil—he made that clear enough—but otherwise he seemed almost normal.”

  “Maybe talking to his parents about this helped, then,” Lisa said. “I read that it sometimes makes adoptees feel better if they can really believe that they were chosen by their new families, instead of thinking of themselves as having been given away by their birth families.”

  Stevie shrugged. She wasn’t that interested in Lisa’s little research project on the psychology of adoption issues. She was just glad that A.J. was sounding better, and that he’d promised to come to the party. “He said he was in the mood to let loose,” she mused aloud. “That sounds like progress to me.”

  She returned to her seat on the couch, feeling optimistic. Things are definitely on an upswing these days, she thought, glancing down at her vocabulary list. A word jumped off the page at her.

  “Karma,” she said. “It’s karma.”

  “I know that one,” Carole said eagerly. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s sort of like fate, right? It means that the stuff you do to other people reflects back on you and affects your own life.”

  Lisa nodded. “Actually I think it has to do with Buddhism,” she said. “If you’re nice to people in this life, Buddhists believe you’ll be a better person in your next life. Or something like that.”

  Stevie shrugged. She hoped Phil wouldn’t have to wait for his next life to reap the benefits of his good deed. Maybe if he and A.J. got a chance to talk at the party, work things out over a sweet cup of cider …

  That reminded her that she had barely started thinking about refreshments. Making a mental note to discuss appropriate food and drink with Alex, she realized it was almost time for Paradise Ranch to start and she’d forgotten to call anyone besides A.J. Her conversation with him had wiped everything else out of her mind for a moment.

  “I’ll call more people at the first commercial break,” she said, reaching for the remote control. There was going to be a lot to do if she wanted to make Emily’s party a success. But she was sure she could do it with a little help from her friends—and some creative thinking. It had already occurred to her that th
e party would be a perfect opportunity for Scott to get in some extra campaigning for the election. Her mind was overflowing with ideas for him to get his ideas across.… She smiled as she thought about all her plans, looking forward to the coming days and weeks.

  Carole forced herself to put her study guide down and settle back in her chair as the familiar opening credits of Paradise Ranch appeared on the television screen. She’d spent every spare moment cramming for tomorrow morning’s test—in between taking care of business at Pine Hollow, preparing for the Colesford Horse Show, and trying to keep up with her regular homework. It was hard to believe that the week had passed so quickly.

  At least after tomorrow it will be over, she thought nervously. I just hope I can pull it off. I’ve got to pull it off.

  Glancing at her study guide again, she gulped. She had studied hard and was pretty sure she was adequately prepared, but the memory of that failed history test haunted her. That and the memory of what she’d done to pass the makeup test …

  I can’t ever let that happen again, she told herself firmly, hardly aware of the tiny figures moving about on the TV in front of her, though her eyes were locked on the screen. It was a mistake, and I’ve got to put it behind me. Nobody ever has to know. I’ve learned my lesson.

  She did her best to put that out of her mind and focus on the show. Onscreen, one character was arguing with another about something or other that Carole couldn’t quite figure out. It reminded her a bit of her fight with Ben the week before. She wasn’t quite sure what that had all been about, either. Why had he suddenly decided to pry into her life? It wasn’t like him.

  It seems like hardly anybody is acting like themselves these days, she thought with a little sigh. A.J. has turned from a nice guy to an ogre and back again so many times now that my head is spinning. Lisa sure wasn’t acting like her calm, rational self when she got so mad at me about the Prancer secret. Self-centered Veronica diAngelo shows up to help A.J. and actually gets through to him. And now Ben decides to change into Mr. Busybody.…