All of our friends. Not just the people in our group. But the nicknamed Sasha & Co. The older students weren’t just people we went to school with or knew from one holiday of volunteer work. They had become our friends. And opening a giant bag of marshmallows was Kim. It wouldn’t be a Briar Creek bonfire without her.
The flames covered a half-dozen giant logs, and sparks flew high into the sky. Heather waved at me from across the other side. She was barely visible over the tall flames. Sasha and Callie laughed as they roasted marshmallows.
“Want one?”
I looked over at the familiar voice. Drew, his face glowing from the fire, held out a perfectly toasted marshmallow on a stick.
“I’d love one. Thank you,” I said. I slid it off the end of the stick and popped it into my mouth. “It’s perfect,” I said through sticky lips.
“I grabbed this stick for you,” Drew said. He handed it to me. “Kim was upset before you got here. She bought roasting sticks for tonight and couldn’t find them. Lucky for her, I’ve grown up using real sticks, and so has Callie. We both went to the edge of the woods, gathered enough for everyone, and presto—roasting sticks.”
“Aw,” I said. “I’m so glad you and Callie helped. Let’s put these sticks to work!”
Soon I’d eaten enough marshmallows to lull me into a sugar coma. Drew and I snuggled next to each other on a log-turned-bench. Khloe and Zack had their arms around each other’s waists as they stared into the fire. I bumped Drew’s knee with mine.
“Look,” I said in a whisper.
Clare, looking Christmas chic in a red beret and matching wool coat, was hand in hand with Garret.
Drew followed my gaze and grinned. “I don’t think they’ll have any trouble finding some mistletoe.”
I frowned. “Not sure about that. I haven’t seen any tonight.”
“Really?” Drew asked. He shifted on the log, then raised his arm in the air.
“What are you—?” I looked up, and a sprig of mistletoe hung from a red ribbon around his finger.
My face grew warmer, without help from the fire. I locked eyes with Drew—his so ocean blue.
“We have to follow tradition now,” Drew said. “I’m sorry, Lauren. There’s no way around it.”
I sighed, pretending to be upset. “If there’s no other option. I wouldn’t want to mess with a Christmas tradition or anything.”
Before I could say another word, Drew lowered his arm, dropped the mistletoe, and put his hands on the sides of my face. His cool fingers sent chills over my body. We leaned forward and gently touched our lips together. When we pulled apart, I slipped my hand into Drew’s. We stepped closer to the bonfire, and the flames warmed my skin. Next to us, Khloe and Zack held hands too.
Even though it was the end of our time at Safe Haven, it was the beginning of lots of things. In a few days, we would all be counting down to the New Year, and we’d return to Canterwood to finish seventh grade.
Through the light snow and the flames, Sasha had her arms wrapped around Jacob as they kissed. They pulled apart, still holding hands, and grinned at each other.
“Merry Christmas.”
I froze at the sound of that voice.
It couldn’t be.
26
SECRET SANTA
Sasha
MR. CONNER WAS AT BRIAR CREEK! I stepped forward and hugged him. “Mr. Conner! I can’t believe you’re here!” I said.
He hugged me back, smiling. “How could I miss a bonfire on a snowy night like this?”
“Let me get you some hot chocolate,” Paige said, dashing off.
That was Paige—always the perfect, polite hostess.
“How did you know we were here?” Eric asked Mr. Conner.
“Kim was kind enough to inform me about tonight,” Mr. Conner said. “I’ll tell you all of the details, but I’d like to address my younger students at the same time. It’s wonderful to see each of you.”
Paige, mug in hand, came over and offered it to Mr. Conner.
“Thank you, Paige,” he said. “This smells delicious.”
“It’s not from a packet and water,” I said. I shot a proud smile at Paige. “Paige made it from scratch.”
“I’ve heard that you are quite the chef,” Mr. Conner said. He took a sip of the hot liquid and smiled at Paige. “What I’ve heard is true. This is fantastic!”
Paige ducked her head. “Wow, sir, thank you so much.”
Mr. Conner took another sip, and Kim came up to him.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, shaking his hand.
They moved away from our group and stood off to the side, heads bent together as they talked. It was beyond weird to see my ex-coach talking to my current instructor.
“Okay, Silver,” Heather said, folding her arms. “Either you spill your secret now or I’m going to turn you into a marshmallow over the fire.”
I giggled. “Hmmm . . . okay!”
I looked at the faces of all of my friends—Eric, Jacob, Callie, Brit, Heather, Alison—and couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this elated.
“When my parents called me into the kitchen,” I said, “I thought I was in trouble.” I wanted to give a little backstory, since only Brit and Callie had been in my room when it had happened. I explained what my parents had said, dragging it out a little until I couldn’t stand it for another second.
“My mom and dad said that when I’m ready—whenever that is—I can adopt a horse from Safe Haven!” I almost screamed the sentence.
“Sasha!” Brit said.
“Wow! Merry Christmas!” Jacob said, kissing my cheek.
“Omigod!” Callie said. She clasped her mitten-enveloped hands together.
“You’re kidding!” Alison said.
Eric one-arm-hugged me. “You totally deserve it! Wow!”
“Thanks, guys,” I said, bouncing on my toes. “I’m super excited. I’m not ready for another horse yet. I can’t even imagine having two right now, but just knowing that one day I can rescue one is amazing.”
“Somewhere out there, a horse doesn’t even know it yet,” Alison said, “but he or she just got the best Christmas gift a horse could ever want.”
27
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Lauren
SASHA HUGGED MR. CONNER. HE SMILED at her and her friends, and they all started talking.
“I can’t believe he’s here!” I said to Drew.
After a couple of minutes, Mr. Conner left Sasha and joined Kim. He shook her hand and they talked. I couldn’t hear them over the crackle of the fire and the chatter of everyone else.
“This is so crazy,” Drew said. “Mr. Conner is part of Canterwood. I guess that I kind of thought he never left the campus.”
I giggled. “I know. Me too.”
I stayed next to Drew, chatting with him and enjoying the warm fire on my face.
Shoes crunched in the inch or so of snow that had quickly accumulated on the ground.
“Mr. Conner,” I said, almost hopping up and down. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t know what to do—having Mr. Conner at Briar Creek was crazy. It must have been even more of a treat for Sasha. Briar Creek had been her old stomping grounds longer than it had been mine.
Mr. Conner smiled as my friends and I gathered in front of him.
“I thought it was only right that I pay a visit to this evening’s festivities,” Mr. Conner said, a mug of hot chocolate in one hand. “After all, almost all of my seventh and eighth grade riders are here.” He nodded to Taylor. “And their friends.”
That made Tay smile.
“Admit it,” Khloe said, grinning. “You came because we’re your favorites!”
“Khloe!” I hissed. She would never say that at Canterwood. I think she’d had one too many marshmallows already.
Mr. Conner fought back a smile—I could tell. He tilted his head and looked at Khloe. “I came, Khloe, because I want to support my riders after the tremendous
work they have done at Safe Haven. I received a phone call raving about the work done by the students of Canterwood. I am truly impressed and proud of each of you.”
I bit my bottom lip. Mr. Conner wasn’t one to dole out compliments. When he gave us one, it was something to savor.
Beside me, Khloe’s giddiness slipped away. In the firelight, she blinked back tears.
“Sasha,” Mr. Conner called. “Please join us over here with your friends for a moment.”
Sasha, Callie, Brit, Heather, Jacob, Paige, Alison, and Eric walked over from the other side of the fire, filling in holes in my group of friends.
“I want to take a quick moment to speak with you all,” Mr. Conner said. “Then you deserve to get back to enjoying the evening.”
Drew slipped his hand into mine. I squeezed his as we looked at Mr. Conner. Our riding instructor had come here to talk to us. There was something less intimidating about him. Maybe it was the red beanie over his black hair, or the fact that he wore a gray wool coat instead of a Canterwood Crest jacket. Or maybe it was because Mr. Conner had come to us.
“When Kim told me about the bonfire tonight,” Mr. Conner said, “she invited me to attend and asked that I get back to her with my answer after I checked my schedule.” Mr. Conner’s eyes roamed over each of us. “I didn’t need to call Kim back. I gave her my answer immediately. At Canterwood, you young students, those of you who ride and those who don’t, are put under tremendous pressure. Both academically and whatever sport or extracurricular activity you’re part of.”
I caught Taylor’s eye and smiled at him. He did the same back. Snowflakes continued to fall around us. The bonfire was the only source of light aside from the glow coming from the stable. It felt as though I was in a snow globe.
“Attending and excelling at Canterwood is not an easy task,” Mr. Conner continued. “Each of you had every right to rest, sleep in, go out with friends—whatever you chose—during the holiday break. Instead you decided to take your time and help horses in need.”
A tear dripped from my cheek, and Khloe wiped her nose.
Mr. Conner shook his head. “I don’t think any of you realize how far the volunteering you’ve done will go. You changed the lives not only of horses, but also of the people who took them home. You boosted spirits of other volunteers, and I know, without having been present, that you lifted each other up.”
I looked over and my gaze stopped on Sasha. She was already looking at me. I gave a single nod, and she did the same back.
Mr. Conner raised his white mug with candy canes in the air. “I toast each of you tonight. I am proud to be the instructor of most of you and a faculty member to those who don’t ride. I am beyond touched by your combined efforts this Christmas.” He smiled. “As I’ve heard around the stable, ‘Sasha and Co.’ and ‘Lauren and Crew,’ I wish you all health, happiness, and a holiday just as wonderful as the one you gave to countless horses and people this year. Cheers!”
Mr. Conner nodded and took a sip of his drink. We all burst into applause. I sniffled, wiping tears from my cheeks.
“Here.” Callie, smiling through her own tears, handed me a tissue.
“Thanks,” I said.
I squeezed Drew’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t be too long,” he said, smiling at me.
“I won’t.”
I left his side, weaving through the other people. I stopped in front of Sasha. It was as if she was already waiting for me.
Tears dripped from her cheeks onto the snow. Without a word, we hugged each other.
As I held on to the older girl, I thought about everything I’d gone through since I’d first heard her name. Before Briar Creek and Sasha Silver, I was a girl who was on her way out of Horse World. Sasha gave me a dream to chase. Now I was at Canterwood, with the best friends I could ask for, a kind, sweet boyfriend, and a horse I loved more than anything.
Sasha and I let go after a final squeeze.
“Thank you,” I said, still teary.
“For what?” Sasha asked, snowflakes on her long eyelashes.
“For inspiring me when you didn’t even know you were. For being someone that I could look up to and not compete against. For letting me take the reins. Most of all for being with my friends and me this Christmas.”
Sasha bowed her head. She took in a ragged breath. “That’s so sweet of you, Lauren. I want you to know that you and your friends have kept me on my toes at school. You’re all incredibly talented, and I have to stay at the top of my game. I have you to thank for that. All of that aside, I can’t think of any other people that I’d want to spend Christmas with.”
We turned our heads at the same time—everyone else had formed a circle around the bonfire.
“Dashing through the snow,” they started to sing.
Sasha and I laughed.
“C’mon,” Sasha said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the fire. “I want to show you my singing skills that make dogs howl.”
I giggled, letting her lead me to the group. “. . . in a one-horse open sleigh,” we both sang.
I looked around at everyone as we sang. This was the most perfect Christmas ever. I couldn’t think of a single present that I wanted. Everything that I needed was right here.
Joyeux Noël!
See where it all began. . . .
CANTERWOOD CREST
TAKE THE REINS
MY PARENTS’ SUV ROLLED INTO the school’s parking lot, past the imposing, ivy-covered wrought-iron gates. I had seven types of lip gloss in my purse and not one was Canterwood Crest Academy worthy. Peach and lime—too summery. Marshmallow and sugar cookie—too Christmassy. Reluctantly, I settled on strawberry.
“Mom,” I whispered, dabbing gloss on my lower lip—desperate situations really amp up my lip gloss addiction—“are you sure about this?” The rearview mirror caught my reflection. My naturally tan face was pale and I’d slathered on so many coats of lip gloss, my lips had turned cotton-candy pink. Oops.
“You’re going to be fine, Sasha. You were a great rider at Briar Creek!” Mom turned in her seat to look at me. She tucked a strand of golden-brown hair—the same color as mine— behind her ear.
I waved my hand toward the window. “This is not Briar Creek,” I said. “I’ll be lucky if I make the beginner team here.”
“You’re an excellent rider,” Dad said, pulling into a parking space and cutting the engine. “Don’t even talk like that.”
Parents are required to say stuff like that so they don’t ruin their kid’s self esteem. I’d seen an Oprah about it.
I tried one of those deep-breathing exercises from my yoga DVD. In May, when my acceptance letter had come from school, I’d taken up yoga. The thought of switching schools and riding for a new stable had been enough to give me major stress. But I couldn’t do any worse here than I had at UMS—Union Middle School—in my hometown of Union. Maybe I’d make real friends here. Breathe in, and then out. In, out.
“All right, Sash,” Dad said. “Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, I opened the door and took in the scene around me. Everything looked different, bigger somehow, than when I’d toured the campus in April. Beautiful stone buildings with climbing ivy, rolling green hills, lush trees with not one dead leaf to be found. And, best of all, a gorgeous, dark-lacquered stable ahead in the distance.
“Smile! Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa, honey,” Dad said, shoving his camcorder in my face. “This is Sasha’s first day of seventh grade. Wave to the camera, Sasha.”
“Dad!” I hissed. Oprah would so totally disapprove of this! I reverted to my yoga breathing. In, out. In, out.
He beamed. “Sasha’s first day at boarding school. I remember when—”
Oh my God. “Dad! Stop filming!” I slammed my palm over the lens. “Not. Now.”
“Oh.” Dad lowered the camcorder and switched off the blinking red light. “Sorry.”
Mom read the instruction sheet for students coming to school with h
orses. “It says to unload your horse in this lot,” Mom said. “And follow the signs to the stable area.”
At least there were signs, since I probably wouldn’t remember the way after five months.
Dad put away the camcorder and helped me unload my horse. Charm pawed the trailer floor—eager to get out. He had been in the trailer for two hours.
Charm, with nostrils flaring, backed down the trailer ramp. “Please behave,” I whispered to him. He pranced in place and huffed as he eyed his new home. His chestnut coat glistened, his gold halter rings flashing in the sunlight. Charm was acting like a yearling instead of an eight-year-old gelding. I touched the tiny silver horse charm on the bracelet my parents had given me for good luck last night, our last night together before Canterwood.
“We’ll go park the trailer and find you in the stable when we’re done,” Mom said.
“You’re leaving me alone?”
“Oh, honey,” Mom said, squeezing my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. And we’ll be right back.”
“Promise?” I asked.
She nodded. “Promise.”
My slick hands could barely grip Charm’s lead line. Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Ready, boy?”
My lips felt dry. I dug in my pocket for my strawberry gloss and globbed more on. Together, Charm and I followed a sign that read STABLE, with an arrow that pointed down a grassy path. Iron signs directed riders to cross-country courses and trail riding paths. As we approached the stable, the familiar scent of horses, hay, and grain soothed me more than my breathing exercises or lip gloss ever would.
Wow, Canterwood is even more gorgeous than I’d remembered, I thought, surveying the gleaming paddocks. The lush grass looked as if someone had cut it with fingernail clippers. There wasn’t a clump of horsehair or a wisp of hay out of place. Even the stones around the bushes by the sidewalks looked polished.
This place made Briar Creek look like a dollhouse-size operation. I still couldn’t believe I’d been accepted to Canterwood and was about to start riding for their nationally recognized riding program!
Charm tugged me forward. “Easy,” I murmured.
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