“Right,” I confirmed.
“Come get me if you need help.” Livvie gave us a smile and turned back to her books.
Paige tossed the sandwiches in the pan and I stirred the soup.
“Do you know anyone here?” Paige asked, while we leaned against the counter and waited for the food.
“Nobody. It’s a little scary.”
Paige flipped the grilled cheese. “I can introduce you to some of the other girls on the floor and we can go to breakfast together tomorrow if you want.”
“I’d like that,” I said, stirring the soup faster.
I flipped open my phone and went to my photo album. “That’s Charm.” Charm, looking right at the camera, sparkled in the sunlight.
“Oh, he’s adorable!” Paige grinned at the picture. “I wish I had a horse. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even let me get a puppy, so they started giving me plants. My room at home is full of them.”
“Why didn’t you want to go to school in Manhattan?” I asked.
“My parents thought I needed to see new things,” Paige said.
“I’m from a really small town,” I said.
Paige turned down the stove heat. “A small town sounds nice. Manhattan is too busy. Too noisy. I wanted to come someplace a little quieter. My mom found Canterwood, we went on a tour, and that was that. Did you know that they even have cooking classes and gardening seminars here? They’re my favorites!”
“Do you want to be a chef?”
Paige looked into the pot before looking at me. “Well, it’s kind of my dream to be the next teen chef on The Food Network for Kids.” Paige bit back a grin. “I went on a couple of auditions last year and didn’t get it, but I’m going to try again during the next casting call.”
I handed Paige a bowl for the soup. “I can help you practice—you’ll snag the part next time.”
“Deal.” Paige and I laughed.
After downing Paige’s grilled cheese and a bowl of soup, we each showered, brushed our teeth, and climbed into our beds to read. Paige chose How to Survive Seventh Grade While Looking Fabulous and I read National Velvet for the twenty-seventh time. It was one of my favorites.
At exactly ten thirty, just in case Livvie really was patrolling the hall, I wiggled under my covers and opened my nightstand drawer. I pulled out my plastic retainer case, trying to hide it.
“What’s that?” Paige asked.
“Retainer.” I smiled sheepishly. “It’s so embarrassing that I still wear one.”
Paige rolled on her side and reached for her nightstand. She opened her drawer and pulled out a familiar red container.
“I wear mine every night,” she said.
We put on our retainers and spent the first night in the dorm with my poster smiling over us.
4
PART OF A FAMILY
PAIGE AND I LEFT WINCHESTER AND HEADED for the cafeteria. Thank God Paige went with me. We got in the breakfast line and piled our plates high with eggs, cantaloupe, and toast. I scooted a couple of inches closer to Paige. I hoped she didn’t think I was too clingy. There was no way I could do this alone. It looked as if everyone already had a table.
“Hey,” Paige called to a table of girls across the room. They motioned her over. “Let’s sit with them,” she said to me. “They live in Winchester, too.”
We walked across the room, passing tables of students. The cafeteria was a mix of long rectangular tables, small circular tables, and a few booths by the windows. High school and middle school students—some with jerseys and some with sketchpads—sat together. I noticed the students didn’t seem to be as divided as they had been at my old school. At Union Middle School, I had eaten with the girls who had played team sports. None of my Briar Creek friends had gone to UMS; they had been in a different district or at local private schools. Even though I sat with the sporty girls at lunch, we weren’t really friends. I didn’t join them for slumber parties or go to the movies with them on weekends. We didn’t even share makeup or fashion tips in between classes. All I ever thought about was riding, and all I ever wanted to do was spend time at the stable.
The girls at Briar Creek were nice, but they had a better bond with each other than with me, since they went to the same school. I was excited about my fresh start at Canterwood. Here, I had the chance to start over and make new friends.
I looked around me. Unlike the kids at UMS, the Canterwood kids sat in mixed social groups in the cafeteria. Band students mingled with the basketball team. Kids with paintbrushes poking out of their backpacks laughed with guys bouncing soccer balls on their knees. Much to my relief, there didn’t seem to be a designated table for awkward newbies.
“Guys, this is Sasha,” Paige said to them, motioning for me to slide into the plastic seat next to her. “She’s my roommate in Winchester.”
“Canterwood didn’t scare you off yet?” an Asian girl next to me asked.
“No,” I said, digging into my fruit. “But I haven’t taken a science class yet, so we’ll see.” Paige introduced the girls.
“That’s Annabella, Kristen, and Suichin.” Annabella had a megawatt smile—and I vaguely remembered seeing Kristen around Winchester on move-in day. The girls acted as if I’d sat at their table every day.
“You’ll love it here,” Kristen said, finishing her orange juice. Her eyes caught on my horse charm. “Rider?”
“Yep, headed to the stables next,” I said.
“Do you have a horse?” Kristen asked.
“His name is Charm,” I said, grateful to talk about my favorite subject. “He’s a chestnut Thoroughbred with a little bit of Belgian.”
“Like a racehorse?” Annabella asked.
“He’s a bit too heavy to race, but yeah,” I laughed. “He’d love it that you thought of him as a racer.”
“I race, too,” Kristen said. “Suichin and I run track.” The girls flashed matching gold pendants of a girl running pinned to their shirts.
“Hundred-meter dash and cross-country,” Suichin bubbled.
Paige gulped down the last mouthful of cantaloupe. “I’ve got to swing by the student bookstore. Ready, Sasha?”
“See you later,” I said, smiling as I got up from the table.
“Bye!” The girls called after us.
Paige led me outside.
“Do you know how to get to the stables from here?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.
“I do. Thanks for everything!”
“I’ll see you back at the dorm,” Paige said with a smile. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes and walked off.
I managed not to get lost and when I stepped up to Charm’s stall, he let out a soft whicker and stuck his head over the door. “Hi, boy,” I said, gently pushing him backward so I could get inside the stall. “You okay?” He stepped up to me, letting me hug him, and I squeezed his neck. “I missed you.” Charm seemed to be begging for a treat. “Oh, I see how it is. The grooms must have spoiled you last night. It looks like they already brushed you. But let’s get you sparkling.”
I clipped Charm’s green lead line to his halter, grabbed his tack box off the ledge by his door and led him out of the stall. There was an empty set of crossties a few stalls down. He stood still while I clipped the ropes to his halter. “Let’s start with the currycomb, okay?” Charm seemed to blink in agreement. I grabbed the pink rubber currycomb and moved it in circles over his body. Barely any hair came off, thanks to Charm’s daily groomings. I switched to the dandy brush and swept it over his neck, barrel, and flanks. “Like that, huh?” I asked Charm. He snorted and leaned into the brush strokes.
This was my third year riding Charm. The first horses I had ridden were gentle mares, barely willing to trot. I rode dozens of horses until I found Charm. Instead of naming the horses, their owners numbered them so they wouldn’t get attached. High-spirited Charm had been starved for attention. Barely five years old, he was green and needed a firm rider.
I took Charm to Briar Creek two wee
ks later. Charm bucked me off for a few weeks, but then we settled into a rhythm. Now, he didn’t run when I tried to catch him in the paddock and he didn’t buck if his girth was fastened too tight. It took a few months of getting to know Charm before I decided to register him with the name Charm because he brought me luck from the first time I petted him.
I reached into the pink tack box and picked up the hoof-pick. “Hoof,” I commanded Charm as I ran my hand down his leg and squeezed about his fetlock. He shifted his weight and lifted his hoof. I bent over and picked dirt and sawdust out of it, rubbing my finger over his horseshoe. A little luck wouldn’t hurt anyone—especially not me!
“Sasha Silver,” a high-pitched voice called out.
I looked up and saw Heather, flanked by two other girls, making their way over to the crossties near our stall. I released Charm’s hoof and stood, brushing the hair out of my eyes. The girls were identically dressed in tall black boots and breeches. Heather’s lips curled into a glossy smile.
“Hi,” I said. I finished Charm’s hoof.
Heather and her friends squeezed together and sat on top of a tack trunk across from Charm’s stall. One girl sported a chic, platinum blond bob and the other had coffee-brown hair that hung in gentle waves around her shoulders.
“How’s your arm?” I asked Heather.
“Never better,” she chirped.
“I just want to apologize again for what happened yesterday,” I said. “Charm is usually so calm and easy to handle.”
Charm snorted and bobbed his head.
“Have you met Julia and Alison?” Heather motioned to the girls beside her. She said it like they were one person, Julia’n’Alison. “That’s Julia.” The girl with the bob smiled. “And Alison.” Alison gave me a bright grin and tossed her hair.
“Hello,” I said.
“So, anyway,” Heather said. “We were thinking that since you’re new and you test tomorrow, we’d love to give you a few tips before the team meeting. Not that you need them,” she added hastily.
“That would be great!” I said. “Lately, I’ve been struggling with keeping Charm’s head down. I thought about a standing martingale but—”
Alison shook her head and jumped in. “Mr. Conner doesn’t allow seventh graders to use martingales. He thinks we’ll overuse them.”
“Oh,” I said. “Then maybe you can give me a couple of pointers for testing.”
“We’ll meet you at eight tomorrow morning by your horse’s stall,” Heather said. They turned and headed down the aisle.
Charm was almost ready to get back to his stall.
“See, Charm?” I whispered, as he lifted his head and watched Heather and her friends walk away. “We’re part of a family.”
5
SORRY, WRONG WAY
MY ALARM CLOCK BLARED AT SEVEN FIFTEEN, way too early for a Sunday.
I awoke drenched in sweat and gasping for a breath. In my nightmare, someone had set Charm loose and no one could find him. I called his name until I had no voice left. I was alone in the woods when I found Charm standing in the rocky bed of a creek, holding his left back leg inches off the ground. I had known it was broken right away.
I shuffled out of bed, and headed for the bathroom, eager to wash away the bad dream. I changed out of my pajamas and slipped into my shirt and breeches.
“I have a surprise for you,” Paige said. I turned around and she handed me a plate of hot strawberry waffles and a glass of apple juice.
“How did you do that?” I asked, my mouth watering.
“Livvie,” Paige said. “I told her about your test and she helped me make these in the dorm kitchen.”
“Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome. You’re going to do great, I know it!”
After I finished my waffles, I took a couple of quick yoga breaths—in-out, in-out, and swiped on a coat of my favorite lip gloss—supershiny peach—and headed for the stables.
“Charmy,” I said. “Hi, boy!”
He grunted, sticking his head over the door, and eyed me. His ears pointed toward me and he checked my hands for treats. “Sorry, nothing now,” I told him. “After our ride, I’ll find you something.”
Heather and her friends weren’t here yet, so I grabbed a soft brush from Charm’s tack box. Ten minutes went by and there was still no sign of Heather. Charm enjoyed the grooming, so I continued to brush him while we waited. At eight forty-five, I put down the brush. “Sorry, boy,” I said. “Be back in a bit.”
I closed the stall door and headed for the indoor arena. Heather obviously wasn’t coming, so I went over to the meeting room. A neon green piece of paper on the door caught my attention. THE RIDING TEAM MEETING HAS BEEN MOVED TO THE OUTDOOR RING. I peered inside the indoor arena and saw chairs and a small table set up. It looked like the right place, but I’d follow the flier’s instructions.
I walked through the entrance of the outdoor ring and saw that it was empty. The arena dirt had lines in it, like it had been smoothed overnight. There were no chairs or tables. Hmm. Did we stand for the meeting?
Nine o’clock rolled around and I was the only one standing in the outdoor ring. The unusually chilly morning air pricked my skin. I waited ten more minutes, pacing tracks in the arena. Surely I wasn’t the only one who showed up today! There wasn’t a place to sit, so I leaned against the fence. Five more minutes ticked by. I kicked the dirt. Where was everyone? Mr. Conner didn’t look like the type of man to be late for anything.
Finally, I gave up and headed back to the barn. I walked slowly down the aisle, looking into a couple of stalls for Heather, Julia, or Alison. When I reached the indoor arena, I knew something was wrong. Where had the flier gone? My face flushed as I peered inside. Heather, Callie, Julia, and the rest of the team were gathered together, each of them seated on a folding chair. Did Heather forget about me? What about the sign on the door? Mr. Conner waved his hands as he spoke. I couldn’t believe I was late for my first lesson!
Heather glanced toward the door as I entered and gave me a smile with a beauty queen wave.
Mr. Conner stopped talking. Everyone looked at me.
“Ms. Silver,” Mr. Conner’s voice boomed over the arena. “We start meetings promptly at nine.”
“I saw a sign on the door that said—”
“No excuses, Ms. Silver. I expect you to be here on time. Prompt. Next time, you’re on probation until I say otherwise. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, my voice barely audible.
He motioned for me to take a seat and I headed for an empty chair in the back row.
When I passed Heather, she whispered, “Oops. Guess someone put the wrong directions on that flier.”
Was this payback for the Charm incident? I’d apologized a million times! She had probably faked her arm injury, too. I folded my arms across my chest and stared straight ahead. About thirty riders filled the rows in front of me.
“Had you been on time,” Mr. Conner started, with a glance in my direction. “You would have heard that this is one of the few times all of the students will be meeting together. From now on, you’ll only be meeting with your specific class—whether it is beginner, intermediate, or advanced.”
According to the riding team handbook, a student rarely reached advanced on his or her first test, so I’d be happy with beginner, but I was hoping, hoping, hoping for intermediate!
“Finally,” Mr. Conner continued. “Remember that the Connecticut State Horse Show is a month away. I expect to see some hard practicing. To the three new students who are testing today: please prepare for your individual rides. The rest of you are free to go.” Today, I’d use the F.A.B. technique that Kim taught me—focus, agility, balance. If Charm kept his head down, listened to my leg aids, and didn’t get distracted by the new arena, maybe that would make up for Friday’s disaster.
Heather got up and grinned. “Good luck, Sasha! We’ll be in the skybox cheering you on!”
Just what I needed—an audience.
“She made me late to the meeting,” I said.
“She pulled that trick last year,” Callie said. “She, Julia, and Alison—the Trio—act like they own the place. Mr. Conner likes them because they’re good riders, but he doesn’t know how they really are.”
“Mr. Conner thinks I’m a total idiot now. He’ll be gunning for me the rest of the semester.”
“He wants the team to succeed,” Callie said. “If he sees you working hard, he won’t pick on you.”
“Any tips for impressing him on my ride?” I asked.
“He’s a stickler for the basics. Keep the toes up, heels down and don’t let your horse be in control. I’ve gotta go tack up and practice, but do you want to trail ride with me sometime?”
“That would be great,” I said. “You can show me all of the good spots around here.”
Callie nodded and headed off. I looked over at Mr. Conner. He gathered a massive stack of papers off the table and eyed me as I approached him.
“I don’t have an excuse for being late,” I said.
“Go tack up and be back here in fifteen minutes. Let’s determine what level you’re on.”
“It won’t happen again,” I said. “I promise.”
He put his stack of papers down, took a seat, and said, “We’ll see.”
6
PERFECT PAYBACK
“AGAIN!” MR. CONNER BARKED, HIS VOICE echoing in the large arena.
This was my chance to show him I belonged on this team. The Trio watched me from above. I chanted Callie’s tips over and over in my head. Toes pointed up, heels pushed down. Toes pointed up, heels pushed down.
The Canterwood Crest Stable of Books Page 3
