Back in the Saddle

by Bonnie Bryant

  Stevie rolled her eyes. Oh well, she thought resignedly. I suppose I should be glad that Phil isn’t the jealous type. Still, it would be nice if he were at least a tiny bit upset at the idea that there might be some competition out there.

  She couldn’t really get too worked up about that idea, though. She’d seen what jealousy and suspicion had done to Lisa and Alex’s relationship, and it wasn’t pretty. “Okay, whatever,” she told Phil, forcing a smile. “It’s just a theory. It’s not like I’m planning to say anything to him. I’m sure he’ll get over it if I just ignore it, right?”

  “Definitely,” Phil agreed. “I don’t know about Starlight, though. I think he’s had this crush on you for years.”

  Stevie couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, well, you’d better watch yourself,” she teased in return. “I’ve always thought Starlight was pretty handsome. If you don’t behave …” She waggled one finger in front of his face.

  Phil grabbed it with a grin and pulled her a little closer. “Is that a threat?” he murmured, his breath warm on her face.

  “No. But this is.” Stevie snuggled into his arms. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone—the Scott stuff, I mean—I’ll kill you. And then Starlight will have me all to himself.”

  Lisa lowered her book with a sigh and sat up straighter on her bed, rubbing her eyes. She’d just read the same paragraph about six times and still had no idea what it said. Her mind kept drifting. She couldn’t help wondering what Alex was doing at that moment. Was he at home, missing her like she was missing him? Or was he out somewhere having fun, not thinking about her at all? She wasn’t sure which scenario made her heart ache more.

  So this is what it’s like being single again, she thought, tossing the book onto her nightstand and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. This is what it’s like to be a social loser, spending Saturday night with no plans at all. This is what it’s like to be without Alex in my life.

  She knew she was being melodramatic, but she didn’t care. It was only a little after eight o’clock, and it already felt as if the evening had dragged on forever. Deciding that she couldn’t go one more minute without human company, Lisa stood up and headed for the door.

  Her mother was sitting in her usual spot on the living-room couch, watching some old black-and-white movie on TV. She had spent a lot of time doing that lately, ever since her first postdivorce boyfriend had dumped her the weekend after Thanksgiving. “Hello, dear.” Mrs. Atwood glanced up as Lisa entered the room, giving her a smile that looked so forced it was almost painful to see. “Heading out with your friends?”

  Lisa grimaced, glancing down at her plaid flannel pajama top, frayed sweatpants, and fuzzy blue slippers. “Dressed like this?” she said. “No, I don’t think so. Besides, my friends all have other plans tonight.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Atwood said with a frown. “That’s the trouble with friends. They always desert you when you need them the most.”

  Even in her current melancholy mood, Lisa wasn’t about to agree with that. “No, it’s not like that, Mom,” she said, sinking down onto the arm of an upholstered chair. “If I really needed them they’d be here in a second.”

  Mrs. Atwood shrugged, her gaze straying back to the television. “If you say so,” she said, sounding doubtful. “But the longer I live, the more I come to realize that people usually find a way to let you down in the end. No matter how much you think you can count on them.”

  Lisa opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. Sure, her mother was being pretty negative. And Lisa really believed that her mother’s bad attitude had more to do with her miserable life than the divorce or anything else. But was Lisa all that much better off herself when you got right down to it?

  I’m sitting here on Saturday night, dressed like a slob, talking to my mother, she thought. My friends are all out having a good time. I’ve got no boyfriend. My parents both think I screwed up my life by picking the college of my choice without their help. She did her best to banish that last thought. In her current state of mind, she didn’t want to start brooding over that whole situation. She had responded to her acceptance to Northern Virginia University without telling anyone, and her parents couldn’t seem to let it go, even though Lisa was still convinced that NVU was the best school for her. It’s all a mess. Even my favorite horse is dead. What’s left for me?

  But the question had hardly even formed in her mind before Lisa knew the answer. Her friends. No matter what, she still had her friends.

  I guess that’s the big difference between Mom and me, she thought, feeling a sudden pang of pity for her mother, sharp and deep. I know there are plenty of people who care about me and want me to be happy—Stevie and Carole and their families, Max and the others at Pine Hollow. But who does Mom have? She doesn’t really have any close friends around here. Just about the only person she talks to besides me is Aunt Marianne. And I know she doesn’t even talk to her as often as she wants to because she lives in New Jersey.

  Mrs. Atwood was staring at the TV with a slight frown on her lined face. “Yes, most people let you down in the end,” she muttered, reaching for the glass of white wine on the coffee table. She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Lisa. “It just makes you realize how completely empty your life really is.”

  “Um, I’d better go back up and do some homework,” Lisa mumbled, knowing that if she hung around her mother much longer she was liable to end up in tears. And that was just about the only thing that would make her feel like even more of a loser than she already did.

  Fleeing back to her room, Lisa flopped onto her bed and hugged her pillow to her chest, glancing at the clock. Eight-thirteen. Yes, maybe she was in better shape than her mother. But just at the moment, that wasn’t a whole lot of comfort.

  “Bye,” Stevie said, leaning over to give Phil one last kiss as she reached for the door handle. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Hold it.” Phil switched off the ignition. “Is that any way to say good night to the guy who bought you a pineapple-and-pistachio sundae—and then had to sit there and watch you eat it?” He grinned and looped his arm around her, pulling her close. “It’s payback time, baby.”

  Stevie giggled. “Well, okay. I guess you earned it,” she joked. Doing her best to wrap her arms around him without getting them tangled in his seat belt, she tilted her face up to receive his kiss. For a moment she forgot about everything and everyone else. Then an image of her parents floated into her mind, and reluctantly she pulled away. “I’d better go in,” she said. “It’s getting close to curfew, and even though I’m technically on the property already, I don’t want to take any chances arguing that with a couple of lawyers like Mom and Dad.”

  Phil chuckled. “Okay.” He planted one last kiss on the tip of her nose. “See ya.”

  As she walked toward the front door, humming cheerfully under her breath, Stevie glanced toward the garage. Both her parents’ cars were parked inside, but there was no sign in the driveway of the rattletrap blue two-door she and Alex shared.

  Stevie stopped humming and frowned. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost midnight, their weekend curfew. “Where is he?” she muttered with a flash of worry. Alex had to be awfully upset, even if he wasn’t showing it much—after all, this was his first weekend apart from Lisa. Stevie hated to think that he might do something stupid because of that, like miss curfew and get himself grounded.

  Before she could figure out what to do, she heard the sound of a motor heading down the street. Hurrying a little farther down the driveway, she squinted against the brightness of the headlights, trying to see the car behind the lights. A second later she jumped back onto the lawn as the car spun around the corner and coasted to a stop.

  Whew, Stevie thought with relief. In just under the wire.

  She waited until Alex had climbed out and was turning to close the car door before clearing her throat loudly. Alex jumped about a foot in the air and spun around. “Stevie!” he gas
ped, grabbing his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing standing around out here in the middle of the night?”

  “Never mind that,” Stevie snapped, her hands on her hips. “Where were you? I was about to call out the National Guard.”

  For a moment Alex didn’t answer. He swung the car door shut, giving it an extra nudge with his foot to make sure the sometimes sticky latch was fast. Then he turned and smiled at Stevie. “Don’t worry, Mom,” he teased. “I made curfew, didn’t I?”

  Stevie scowled at him. “Very funny. So where were you all this time? By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice that you took off with the car without bothering to let me know.”

  “Sorry about that.” Alex didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “But I needed it. I, um, had a date.”

  Stevie’s jaw dropped. “A date?” she repeated. “What are you talking about?”

  Alex shrugged, not quite meeting her eye. “Hey, that was the deal, remember?” he said. “Lisa wanted us to see other people. So I asked someone out.”

  “Who?” Stevie asked, still trying to take in what her brother was saying. Alex had gone out on a date already—just two days after he and Lisa had agreed to take a break from their relationship? It was too bizarre.

  “None of your business.” Alex was starting to look annoyed.

  “Who?” Stevie said again, more firmly this time. “You might as well tell me now, because you know I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he muttered. “It was Nicole, okay?”

  “Nicole Adams?” Stevie really couldn’t believe her ears now. “You’re kidding! You didn’t really ask out a loser bimbo like her, did you?”

  “Shut up, Stevie.” Alex frowned and brushed past her, heading for the house. “I can see whoever I want, and I don’t care what you think about it.”

  Stevie just stood there and watched him go, her mind struggling to catch up with this new information. Nicole Adams? she thought in disbelief. Is he serious?

  Nicole was a junior at Fenton Hall, and Stevie had known her for years. She was part of a group of shallow, silly, snobby girls at school led by Veronica diAngelo, one of Stevie’s least favorite people. Until a couple of months ago Stevie would have said that she and Nicole had absolutely nothing in common. But that had changed—sort of. Nicole had suddenly turned up at Pine Hollow one day, announcing that she was going to start taking riding lessons.

  But it actually began before that, Stevie reminded herself reluctantly. At that party we threw, Alex and Nicole were drooling all over each other on the dance floor.…

  She shuddered at the image. At the time, she had excused her brother’s behavior by reminding herself that he was drunk. But since then, she’d noticed Alex and Nicole hanging out together more than once, at the stable as well as at school.

  Still thinking about that, she headed inside, where Alex was hanging up his coat in the front closet. For a moment Stevie was tempted to grab him and shake him and demand what on earth he was thinking. How could he go from a great girl like Lisa to a total loser like Nicole?

  But she controlled herself. “Well, good night,” she said as calmly as she could. “See you in the morning.”

  Alex looked surprised but relieved. “Good night, Stevie.”

  After all, it won’t do any good to make a bigger deal out of this than it deserves, Stevie thought as she climbed the stairs toward her room. So I’ll just have to sit back, bite my tongue, and wait for it to pass.

  THREE

  “I’ll be out in a sec,” Callie told Scott the next morning, unhooking her seat belt as her brother pulled into Pine Hollow’s parking area with a spray of gravel. “You don’t have to come in.”

  “No hurry. I’ll just stretch my legs for a minute,” Scott said, turning off the ignition. “Besides, I think I may have left my chem notebook here on Friday. I’d better look for it.”

  Callie shrugged. “Okay, but don’t wander off. My appointment is for eleven-thirty, and I don’t want to be late.” Without waiting for her brother’s reply, she hurried toward the stable. She was feeling anxious and disgruntled—she hated to be late, and she hated it even more when it was her fault.

  Why couldn’t I keep track of a simple piece of paper? she thought irritably as she strode across the entryway. I mean, I took the trouble to write down the address. The least I could do was not lose it for a whole three days.

  She shook her head, disgusted with herself. She’d taken down the information carefully, and she wasn’t usually so scatterbrained. She knew she’d had the paper on Friday in chemistry class, because she’d pulled it out to double-check the time. But somehow it must not have made it back into her bag after that, though she hadn’t noticed it was missing until just an hour earlier when she was getting ready to go. She’d tried to call Pine Hollow to ask someone there to look up the address for her in the office address file, but the stable’s phone had been busy for a good ten minutes, and she hadn’t wanted to waste any more time. When Scott had suggested that they stop off at Pine Hollow on their way to the appointment, she had been quick to agree.

  I guess I’m just kind of worked up about this horse thing, she told herself as she crossed the entryway at a brisk walk. That was true enough. In fact, she couldn’t seem to think about anything else for very long these days. For a long time, most of her focus had been on getting well—recovering from the accident, learning to walk again, keeping her muscles in shape with her therapeutic riding. But now that she was officially better, she couldn’t wait to get back to where she’d been before the accident, and beyond. She’d already started working on her own conditioning by training with Barq, one of Pine Hollow’s horses. But Barq could only take her so far. As long as she didn’t have a real endurance horse, every second that ticked by felt wasted. I need to find the right horse, she thought. I can’t afford to mess up here. My whole competitive career depends on that. Everything is at stake.

  When she reached the stable office, she was surprised to see that the door was closed. Callie couldn’t recall the last time that had been the case—normally it was propped wide open with a bucket or the phone book or a heavy piece of tack.

  “Hey,” Callie called to an intermediate rider who happened to emerge from the tack room at that moment. She struggled to remember the younger girl’s name. Mary? Maddie? Meg? “Um, hi,” she said, giving up on the name. “Do you know if Max is in there?” She gestured to the office door.

  The girl nodded. “He’s interviewing someone,” she said, hoisting the bridle she was carrying a little higher on one shoulder. “You know, for the stable hand job.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” Callie glanced at the door again, sighing in frustration. She hardly noticed when the younger girl moved on.

  Just my luck, she thought, checking her watch. It was already almost eleven o’clock. If she didn’t get the information she needed soon, she was definitely going to be late for her appointment.

  Still, she wasn’t quite desperate enough to burst in on Max’s interview. Not yet, anyway. Glancing at her watch again, she turned and wandered slowly down the hall, trying to keep her impatience under control. She was nearing the end of the hall when someone came hurrying around the corner, almost crashing into her.

  “Oh!” exclaimed the pudgy, moon-faced guy breathlessly, his round gray eyes wide. “Sorry, Callie.”

  “That’s okay, George.” Callie bit back a groan. It just wasn’t her day. George Wheeler was about the last person she wanted to have to deal with that day.

  Of course, he’s the last person I want to see pretty much any day, she thought ruefully, forcing a bland smile onto her face. George was in her class at school, and he’d had a serious crush on her for a couple of months now. Callie wasn’t interested in George romantically, and for a while she had been trying to convince herself that the two of them could be friends. He was smart and kind and one of the best riders at Pine Hollow, despite his decidedly unathletic ap
pearance. But no matter how many times she’d reminded George that all she wanted was friendship, he still couldn’t quite seem to get it, and his lovesick puppy-dog act was making her uncomfortable. Finally she’d decided that something had to change, so just a couple of days earlier she’d told him that she was going to have to take a break from their friendship for a while. She was hoping that would give him a chance to think about what being friends really meant. If that didn’t work, she was going to have to figure out how to tell him that they couldn’t be friends at all.

  Thinking about that, Callie nodded to George. “Hello,” she said politely, preparing to continue on past him.

  But George was blocking most of the narrow hallway, and he didn’t seem inclined to move out of her way. He was gazing at her with a delighted smile stretching from one pink cheek to the other, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. “What are you up to this morning, Callie?” he asked cheerfully. “Going for a ride?”

  Callie blinked, wondering if he could have forgotten their agreement already. No way, she told herself uncertainly. I made myself pretty clear. How could there be any mistake?

  Still, judging by the way George was standing there grinning at her, he didn’t seem to remember their conversation at all. Callie cleared her throat, not quite sure what to do. Normally she didn’t have trouble handling people who were causing her problems. She’d always found that the direct approach worked just fine. But George was different. Somehow he managed to keep her just off balance enough to confuse her and make her wonder if she was somehow not getting her message across as well as she thought she was.

  “Um …,” she began, with no idea what she was going to say next. Fortunately, she happened to glance over George’s shoulder and spot Stevie walking across the entryway. “Stevie!” she blurted out in relief.

  Stevie looked over. Callie could almost see the wheels turning in her friend’s head as she took in the situation. A moment later, Stevie was hurrying toward her and George. “Callie!” she exclaimed cheerfully, pushing her way past George. “Excuse me,” she told him with an innocent smile. “I was just looking for Callie. I need to show her something. Come on, girl, this way.” She grabbed Callie’s hand and dragged her down the hall, past the tack room and the still-closed office door and straight into the ladies’ room.