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by Jessica Burkhart

  I opened my mouth to respond, but the words never came out. It wasn’t like me to be shy around guys! But Drew’s compliment, coupled with the cozy warmth of his scent and the way my name sounded in his mouth, made me positively dizzy.

  “Drew! C’mon!” Before I could speak, a tall, unfamiliar-looking redheaded guy clapped Drew on the back of his shoulder and tilted his chin in the direction of the stable.

  Drew shot me a dazzling smile and started forward. “See you, Lauren.” He followed the guy, then turned back. “If you ever do want to tell me that whole story sometime, you know where I’ll be.”

  I shook my head, making a face I wasn’t used to making—impressed. “But,” I said, ready to lead with the foot I always stepped with first, “last one to finish warming up buys.”

  Drew looked puzzled. “We’re not even tacked up yet,” he said, incredulous.

  “Sounds like you should beat me easy, then.” I laughed.

  7

  FIVE HUNDRED

  AND FOUR

  I COULDN’T GET THE SMILE OFF MY FACE while I groomed and tacked up Whisper. I’d promised myself before school started that I would focus on just two things: school and riding. But I couldn’t help it. There was something . . . magnetic about Drew. Besides, Khloe would kick my butt if she caught me choosing my GPA over a guy like Drew.

  I leaned close to Whisper, stroking her neck. “Drew’s a good rider, girl. We could swap advice or something. Then, technically, no rules would be broken.”

  Whisper craned her neck, her big brown eyes on mine. Her expression was identical to the one Becca would have given me if I’d fed her that exception to my own lame rule.

  “Let’s see if we beat him, Wisp,” I said.

  But up ahead, a silky black tail swished as a blonde fumbled with her girth’s buckles.

  “Khlo?” I led Whisper next to Ever and halted her.

  Khloe’s fair face—not just her cheeks—was flushed. She looked kind of dazed but had a sort of perma-smile over her lips.

  “What’s . . . ? You okay?”

  “No!” Khloe replied. “Yes! I don’t know!”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, leading Whisper closer to her and Ever, out of the way of the main aisle.

  Khloe looked down the aisle at the wall clock. “I’ll make you late. You need to be in the arena right now. Argh! I want to talk now, though!”

  Drew was going to win, that I knew. On the other hand, I had to know what was up with Khloe.

  “Then I’ll be late,” I said. “There’s no way I’m going to my lesson without finding out what’s going on.”

  “Okay! Omigod, Laur!” Khloe practically pounced on me. She was inches from my face as she bounced on her toes. Ever eyed her—likely trying to process Khloe’s erratic behavior. “I’ll be really quick. I promise on—”

  “Spill it!” I said, shaking my head and laughing.

  “It was Zack. We ran into each other on our way to the stable and talked the entire way here!”

  “Khlo!”

  “Get this—he actually liked the text photo you guys made me send during Truth or Dare! He thought it was funny and that it was ‘cute.’” She giggled, using air quotes. “He liked that I went through with the dare.”

  “See! And you were afraid that picture would ruin your social life.”

  “I know!” Khloe shook her head. “When we got to the tack room? He opened the door for me! We took way too long in there. And . . . ,” Khloe trailed off, her grin growing.

  “Aaand?” I asked.

  “Zack asked if I wanted to go out and hit up The Slice with him sometime!” Khloe’s glossy pink smile couldn’t have been any wider.

  “Khlo! That’s amazing!” I grabbed her in a hug and we rocked back and forth, squealing when necessary. Whisper and Ever stood together quietly, heads down and eyes shut, as if they were just too embarrassed of their boy-crazy owners.

  Various riders who passed our tiny freak-out barely batted an eye at us. They all just kept moving as if Khloe and I just happened to be doing normal stable chores. Finally, one rider stopped.

  “Did someone get good news?” Riley cooed. “Aw!” Her finger oscillated between me and Khloe before settling on Khloe like the Wheel of Fortune needle (or in this case—misfortune). “Khloe, I bet it’s you! Did Ever finally take the ditch? I saw her balk at it a couple of days ago.”

  Khloe’s face went from being flushed with happiness to blotchy, angry red. “Something happened that I’m sharing with my friend,” Khloe said, glaring at Riley. The other girl didn’t budge. I looked from one to the other. Riley was beyond stubborn.

  But Khloe had it out for that girl lately, so no way would she give in either. If no one made a move soon, we’d be standing here staring at one other until the outdoor lights came on. Or Mr. Conner kicked us out. Whichever came first.

  Khloe tossed her blond hair, giving Riley a gigantic smile. “Well, you certainly don’t seem to have anywhere to go . . . or, for that matter, anyone to see . . .”

  Riley leaned closer. It was short-lived, but I could have sworn I’d seen a hurt—maybe even surprised—look cross her face. Quickly enough, Riley’s cool, indifferent mask covered her face again. “Actually, if you could not take forever? Clare’s waiting by the arena with Adonis.”

  Khloe made an exaggerated O with her mouth. “Oh, well, never mind, then! I wouldn’t want you to be late, precious.”

  Riley’s mouth opened and closed, guppielike. Poor thing wanted to know our gossip so much, I half expected her to stand on her tiptoes, clap her arms together, and start barking like a seal.

  I almost felt sorry for her.

  “Okay. I’m not saying a thing,” I taunted. “But if I said anything, I’d just mention that Khloe is most likely, almost for sure, soon to . . . mmm . . . very soon, probably be off the market,” I cut in.

  I said I almost felt sorry for Riley.

  “Byeee!” I said to Khloe. “Talk to you in our room later. I want to hear every detail.”

  Khloe and I traded ha! looks before I led Whisper down the aisle.

  Riley stayed a few feet behind us, her boots clomping against the ground louder than Whisper’s hooves.

  Clare, waiting at the indoor arena entrance, held her own horse, Fuego, and Adonis. She smiled at me, but it faded when Riley snatched Adonis’s reins from her hand and didn’t say a word. Clare pulled her black helmet down further over her forehead, whispering “hi” to me as she followed Riley inside.

  I mounted Whisper and looked around. Drew, Cole, and Lexa were already warming up their horses. Riley, Clare, and I had been the last ones to arrive.

  I trotted Whisper up to Drew. “When did you get here?” I teased. “I’ve been here forever.”

  He laughed—a deep, genuine laugh. “Strange, I was wondering where you were. I’m sure we were too wrapped up in practicing to notice each other.”

  “That, and this arena”—I swept my arm in an arc—“is huge. So easy to miss each other.”

  Drew and I laughed together.

  “Drew?”

  Our gaze broke. Riley, sitting tall in Adonis’s saddle, smiled angelically. She’d just appeared—like she’d somehow made Adonis tiptoe over.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt you guys,” Riley said. She made an apologetic face. “Drew, I can catch you later.”

  Riley pulled on Adonis’s left rein to turn him away.

  “You’re not interrupting,” I said. The second the words left my mouth, Riley reined Adonis to face us.

  “Drew, I know you’re crazy busy with swimming and everything, but would you have a second this week to help me with our class’s science paper? I have an idea for the subject, but I’m sure it’s bad.”

  Riley made a frowny-slash-sad face. I looked away from her, focusing on Drew. I hadn’t even known he was a swimmer. His pale skin and lack of chlorine smell hadn’t given the slightest hint. It would give us something else to t
alk about. I knew a lot about the sport from being with Taylor.

  “No prob,” Drew said. “Text me or something, and we’ll go over it.”

  Riley shot me a blink and you’ll miss it smug smile. “Thanks, Drew!” she chirped.

  “We better start warming up or we’ll be mucking stalls together,” Drew said. The three of us moved our horses along the wall, joining Clare, Lexa, and Cole. Each of us kept our horses spaced out—no tailgating—and moved through a smooth warm-up. My attention was fully on Whisper, and as I posted, it felt as if nothing else existed. The only sounds I heard were her hoofbeats and breath.

  I looked up—startled—to see Mr. Conner standing in the arena’s center, watching us. No one had moved to stop.

  “Exactly what I’ve been hoping to see,” Mr. Conner called. “Come to the center.”

  I eased Wisp to a walk and rode beside Lexa and Cole to halt in front of Mr. Conner.

  “Not one of you stopped when I came into the arena,” Mr. Conner said, his smile reaching his brown eyes. “Each of you had great focus, and it was the most fluid, together session I’ve seen from this group. I hope to see more of this in the future—you treating practice as important as the actual lesson.”

  We traded smiles with each other. Mike and Doug, two of the stable hands, carried plastic poles under each arm, and began creating a cavaletti course. They stacked wooden holders along the wall and laid poles on the ground, measuring the space with yellow measuring tape.

  “I was going to wait until the lesson was over to discuss some important news with you,” Mr. Conner said. “However, based on what I just witnessed, I think now is the right time to talk.”

  I glanced over at Lexa, then Cole, forgetting about the cavaletti. Both had the same expression: no clue what Mr. Conner was about to say. I gripped the reins a little tighter. It surely wouldn’t be bad news . . . would it?

  “As you’re all aware, this is the start of your second week at Canterwood,” Mr. Conner said. “We’re just beginning the season and getting used to lessons and riding on a regular schedule. Soon it will be time to ease into the competition circuit.”

  I took a sharp breath, almost making myself cough. If any of my teammates noticed, they didn’t react. Lexa and Cole leaned forward to see around me and grinned at each other. In the mirror, I saw Drew high-five Cole. Clare and Riley had matching grins.

  Flashes of past competitions—wins and losses—blinked in front of me. Part of me couldn’t wait to compete on my horse and show the judges what beautiful moves Whisper possessed. The other part wanted to gallop Whisper out of the arena and not hear another word about competing.

  “This is not a requirement,” Mr. Conner said.

  It wasn’t a choice if I wanted to move past Red Oak.

  “I’ve said it before, but I’ll remind everyone again that no one has to compete in this or any other show while on the intermediate team,” Mr. Conner said. “I’ve talked with each of you individually, and am happy to do so again at any time, about your plans and goals for this year.”

  I raised my head so I could see myself in the mirror. My pale skin looked a couple of shades lighter than normal. Breathe, Lauren, I told myself. I focused on slowing my heartbeat and looking at Mr. Conner. During my mini freak-out, Mike and Doug had disappeared from the arena.

  “In three weeks, Canterwood will be hosting the season’s first schooling show,” Mr. Conner said. “Invitations have been extended to nearby academies for their intermediate and advanced riders.”

  Three. Weeks. Twenty-one days. Five hundred and four hours until showtime.

  8

  STRANGE AND

  RIGHT

  “HOME ADVANTAGE!” DREW SAID, PATTING Polo’s neck. The excitement in his voice made me feel a tiny surge of excitement and competitiveness.

  Drew’s comment made Mr. Conner smile. “We have the perks of not traveling and being familiar with our riding spaces,” Mr. Conner said. “But don’t mistake that as a leg up. The visiting school’s instructors will have taken that into account in their preparation of riders.”

  Clare raised her hand and Mr. Conner nodded at her.

  “How many classes can we take?” Clare asked.

  “Two, maximum,” Mr. Conner said. “We can discuss options, but the choices are ultimately yours. After our lesson, I’ll post a sign-up sheet on the bulletin board near my office door. If you intend to compete, you have until midweek to sign up. Next to the sheet, there will be a list of classes available to you. Please write down your choices along with your name.”

  Mr. Conner motioned to Lexa, who had raised her hand. “How many schools are coming?” she asked.

  “RSVPs are still arriving,” Mr. Conner said. “I’m guessing three or four academies will attend. When we were deciding to host the show, we made it a priority that this event have every aspect of a schooling show. I made certain to keep the invite list short.”

  Mr. Conner glanced at our group. His eyes stopped on me for a second before shifting to Lexa. I wonder if he thinks I won’t attend the show, I thought.

  I’d explained to Mr. Conner that I’d come to Canterwood to ease back onto the show circuit. Even though my first reaction to his news had been panic, the feeling had slowly dissipated the more I thought about it. There wouldn’t be a more perfect scenario than this to re-enter showing. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. This wasn’t going to be like before. I wouldn’t be riding a different horse or counting points until I racked up enough to become junior champion. At Canterwood, I’d have the first chance to ride my own horse and show for fun. I couldn’t wait to show off Whisper!

  “If there are no more questions, let’s begin today’s lesson,” Mr. Conner said. “As I’m sure you noticed, Mike and Doug set up a cavaletti course. We’ll start with two poles on the ground and increase to four by the end of the lesson. Who can tell me why we might be working with cavaletti?”

  Cole raised his hand. “Pacing,” he said. “Usually, riders start with a couple of poles on the ground, then raise them and keep adding more, but height isn’t the goal. The poles are supposed to help the horse raise his legs higher and pay more attention to the placement of his hooves.”

  “Exactly,” Mr. Conner said. “Great answer, Cole.”

  Cole smiled, looking down and smoothing a section of Valentino’s mane.

  “We’ll start with two poles on the ground and increase to four by the lesson’s end,” Mr. Conner said. “I’ll add the holders after you’ve all taken your horses over the ground poles several times.”

  A giant sneeze came from a few horses away and everyone turned in Clare’s direction. Fuego shook his chestnut head, wiggling his upper lip. “Excuse him!” Clare said, giggling. “Giant Kleenex, anyone?”

  Everyone laughed. Everyone but Mr. Conner.

  Mr. Conner stood, silent, until everyone’s attention was on him again. “Cole brought up what the exercise is supposed to do, but I’d like someone to tell me why it’s beneficial for a competition.”

  I raised my hand.

  “Lauren, go ahead,” Mr. Conner said.

  “Working with cavaletti is important for showing because points can be deducted during equitation and hunter classes because it’s dangerous if a horse ‘hangs’ his hooves. It’s also great for jumping in general because it can help prevent accidents.”

  “Correct,” Mr. Conner said. “We won’t be able to use the cavaletti to the maximum in one lesson—it will take several practices to have the poles raised in varying heights. I want to work up to trotting over four poles on the ground by the lesson’s end.”

  This session would be good for Whisper and me. The mare’s Hanoverian/Thoroughbred blood gave her long strides, but she sometimes rushed jumps, and it threw off our pacing. We’d done some cavaletti work over the summer, but not nearly enough.

  Mr. Conner lined us up along the wall in random order. Cole. Riley. Me. Lexa. Drew. Clare.

  For the first round, five of us stayed ba
ck while Cole took the course twice. Then it was Riley’s turn. Both riders had no problems getting Valentino and Adonis to step over the poles.

  My turn.

  I loosened the reins and tapped my heels against Whisper’s sides. She moved forward at a collected walk. We aligned ourselves in front of the cavaletti course. Whisper stepped over the first pole and lifted her hooves higher over the second.

  I deepened my seat, turning her around to walk over the cavaletti again. This time Whisper picked up her hooves better over the first pole. She placed each hoof well away from the ground poles.

  With a tiny smile, I got back in line and Lexa began the exercise. When each of us completed the très basic course, Mr. Conner added a third pole. We started again. Fuego, rushing, took three short strides before the last pole and nicked it with his left back hoof. Clare did a half halt, circled Fuego once, and gave him more space as he walked to the first pole.

  “Clare,” Mr. Conner called. “Give Fuego a bit more rein and loosen your body so he doesn’t feel like you want him to rush.”

  Clare nodded, her red curls bouncing under her helmet. The liver chestnut, responding to Clare’s aids, walked over the cavaletti with ease this time.

  With each round, Mr. Conner changed the course. He added a fourth pole, then removed two and raised them a couple of inches off the ground. Soon the third pole was added back in. Whisper, loving the exercise, snapped her knees as she stepped over the low poles. The easy exercise made me happy, too—it bolstered my confidence about jumping.

  At the session’s end, Mr. Conner brought us in front of him. Whisper half-pranced, tossing her head as we halted. The lesson hadn’t winded her, but paying attention to the spacing of the cavaletti had kept her engaged.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Conner said, addressing us. “I saw improvement with each of you and your horses with each round. Drew, I’m especially impressed with Polo’s progress during this exercise.”