Charm trotted ahead and I followed the sound of jangling to the silver heart charm bracelet glinting off Alison’s wrist. I flashed back to the poster I’d seen in Winchester.
“Hey, do you know what the Sweetheart Soirée is?” I asked Callie.
“Supposedly,” she said. “It’s some big Valentine’s Day party for seventh and eighth graders. Very secretive. No one in Orchard Hall knows much. But I bet Heather knows something about it. If anyone does, she will.”
I angled Charm beside Heather. She glared at me and Aristocrat laid back his ears when he saw Charm. I knew I’d probably—no definitely—regret asking her but, I was too curious to let it go.
“Do you know anything about the Sweetheart Soirée?” I asked Heather. I braced myself for a rude response.
Julia and Alison looked amused.
“You wish, Silver,” Heather said. “It’s for people who actually have a chance at a date for Valentine’s Day.” She let out the reins and Aristocrat propelled into a smooth canter with Trix and Sunstruck flanking him. I rolled my eyes, but Callie and I didn’t waste a second before charging after them.
When I got Charm warm, dry, and into his stall, I pulled out my cell and texted Jacob.
Sorry, I can’t make it. Took 2 long 2 clean Charm. C U soon?
My phone dinged a few seconds later.
No prob. Ttyl!
My new goal: uncover the secrets behind the Sweetheart Soirée, and see if a certain someone has a valentine …
THE NEW GUY PAIGE
PAIGE WAS OFFICIALLY OBSESSED.
It was superearly on frigid Sunday morning and while I dressed for my riding team meeting, she was fixated on writing an essay. On. A. Sunday.
“You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow to do that?” I asked. “We still have twenty-four hours before school officially starts again. Then we’ll have to do homework on the weekends.”
“This is a BIG deal, Sash!” Paige said. “It’s The Food Network for Kids! The essay has to be perfect or they won’t even watch my demo DVD.”
Paige had decided to try out again to be the new host of Teen Cuisine. It was the hottest show on The Food Network for Kids.
“If you want,” I offered,“I can help you with the DVD. The judges will love it.”
Paige played with the blue chopsticks that held her golden-strawberry hair in a loose bun. “You think?”
“Absolutely.” I rifled through my desk and found my favorite pen with pink ink. “Here. Write with this—it’ll bring you luck!”
Paige took the pen. “Thanks. See you after your meeting?”
I nodded and left Paige scribbling on her paper. It was stable time.
Heather, Julia, and Alison were already seated and waiting in the small office off the indoor riding arena. They were always here first for meetings.
Callie sat beside me.
“Welcome to the seventh grade advanced riding team’s first unmounted meeting,” our coach, Mr. Conner said. He stepped inside and closed the door. “This semester, we’ll have a few unmounted meetings when necessary. I’ll call these meetings when we have pressing topics to discuss—such as training techniques or other related matters.”
The five of us nodded.
Mr. Conner sat on an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair and peered at the clipboard in his lap.
“The first thing we need to discuss is the show,” he said. “It will take all of our time and energy to prepare for this show in the next several weeks.” Callie and I eyed each other. Charm loved shows—especially the crowd. Cheering energized him and he loved to show off. “On the first weekend of February, the six of us will be going to Fairfield to compete in the Junior Equestrian Regionals. I received the good news yesterday.”
“What?” Callie yelped. “No way!”
Regionals were huge. I had only ever dreamed about watching the competition in person—much less riding!
“This show is the biggest event of the year for young riders in New England,” Mr. Conner continued. “There will be scouts for the Youth Equestrian National Team and admissions officers for leading workshops and clinics. Riders who do well here could qualify for nationals in the fall.”
W.O.W. Nationals!
“We have a month to train, so from this point forward, I expect all of you to step it up.”
We all nodded. Even the Trio looked excited.
“On weekdays,” he said, “you’ll be riding before and after class. On weekends, your schedule is up to you—unless I call a special meeting.”
Julia raised her hand.
“Yes, Julia?” Mr. Conner said.
“How many classes will we show in?” she asked, twirling a lock of her platinum blond bob around her finger.
“Two,” he said. “We’re training in all three areas—show jumping, dressage and cross-country—but for this show, two classes each will be plenty. In group lessons, we’ll work all three areas and in pairs sessions, we’ll focus on your specialties.”
Pairs sessions?
Callie leaned into me. “What’re you showing in?”
“I’ll probably do show jumping and cross-country,” I whispered. “What about you?”
“Dressage and maybe hunter under saddle. I need a break from cross-country.”
Mr. Conner gave his clipboard to Alison. “You should each know your strengths by now. Go ahead and jot them down next to your name.”
Alison flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder and scribbled something down. She passed the clipboard to Heather who wrote down her preferences and passed it along. Julia did the same and then handed me the clipboard. I scanned the list. Heather had written down cross-country and dressage, Alison had signed up for hunter hack and dressage and Julia had marked down hunter hack and show jumping.
Next to my name, I wrote show jumping and cross-country. Callie took the clipboard and wrote down dressage and hunter under saddle. She gave the clipboard to Mr. Conner. He read over our choices.
“I’ve taught you well,” he said with a grin. “Now, I want to break you up into pairs and when I cannot conduct lessons, you’ll work with your partner. You’ll be paired according to your strengths and weaknesses.” Mr. Conner consulted his clipboard.
“Julia, you’re one of our best jumpers, so you’ll be working with Alison who is a strong dressage rider,” Mr. Conner said. Julia and Alison high-fived.
Callie and I looked at each other. Mr. Conner wouldn’t break us up, would he?
“Sasha, you’ve got a strong jumping seat,” Mr. Conner started. “You’ll be working with Heather, who is an exceptional dressage rider.”
What? No!
When Mr. Conner looked away, I looked over at Heather. She stared straight ahead, not blinking. Impossible to read.
Mr. Conner smiled at Callie. “I’ve left Callie without a partner. Since she’s equally strong in dressage and jumping, Callie is going to alternate between the two groups.”
Heather’s glossy mouth fell open. Mine almost did the same. Callie was a fantastic rider, but was she really better than Heather? The look on Heather’s face suggested she didn’t think so. It would be weird to take directions from Callie and Heather.
I nudged Callie. “You have to keep Heather from trotting me to death,” I whispered.
Callie hooked her pinky to mine. I tried to shake off my insecurity and be happy for her. Callie was one of my best friends and she always worked hard. She deserved recognition from Mr. Conner.
Mr. Conner smiled at us and put his clipboard on the table. “Please remember, you need to have at least a B average to go to regionals. I need every single one of you to be sure and keep up your grades. Okay?”
We all nodded.
“All right, see you at your next lesson,” Mr. Conner said.
We got up and headed for the door.
I took Charm out of his stall and clipped him to the crossties. His coat still wasn’t shiny enough after the mud slinging yesterday that had kept me from meeting J
acob. We’d wanted to meet today instead, but we were both busy. I was actually kind of glad—I needed the extra day to wash my hair again and choose the perfect outfit. Tonight, Paige and I were making egg and banana facials—Paige promised pore tightening and complexion brightening. I’d settle for not getting a giant zit before seeing Jacob for the first time this semester!
As I groomed Charm, my mind drifted back to what Mr. Conner had said about grades. I didn’t even want to think about my fall report card. Before Canterwood, I had been a straight-A girl, but my first Canterwood report card included half of the alphabet! As, Bs, and an ugly, glaring C+ in biology.
I’d been embarrassed to show it to Mom and Dad. I’d never gotten a C before—ever. But they had said they’d understood. I was at a new school and they expected me to take a semester to settle into classes and life at boarding school. But I’d vowed never to get another C. EVER. AGAIN.
Charm snorted and tugged on the crossties. I looked up and saw that a guy about my age was walking toward us. He stopped in front of Charm.
“Hey,” he said, flashing a smile that popped against his deep brown skin. His jet-black hair was tousled. I wondered what he was doing here—he didn’t look like a rider in his graphic tee and worn, vintage jeans. Then I spotted his paddock boots.
“Hey—I’m Eric,” he said. “Seventh-grade transfer student. As if that wasn’t obvious.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry—it’s not obvious. I’m Sasha,” I said. “I’m a seventh grader, too.” Eric walked up to Charm and offered him a hand to smell. “He yours?” Eric asked.
I nodded. “That’s Charm.”
Eric’s eyes ran over Charm’s legs, barrel, and chest. “He has great conformation,” Eric said. “You can really see his Thoroughbred lines.”
I smiled. Charm loved the word “Thoroughbred”—Eric would forever be his BFF. Charm stretched his neck to Eric and got his pink and black muzzle rubbed.
“Did you bring your own horse?” I asked.
Eric shook his head and I saw a sparkle in his dark brown eyes. “I’m riding school horses for now, but I want my own horse soon.”
“Nothing beats having your own horse. Are you finding your way around the stable?” I remembered my first few days here and how easy it had been to get lost on Canterwood’s sprawling campus.
Eric smiled. “I think I’m okay. But if you see me looking lost during classes tomorrow …”
“I’ll point you in the right direction,” I finished.
“Thanks,” Eric said. He gave Charm a final pat and disappeared down the aisle.
I let myself into my dorm and found stacks of dozens—no, maybe hundreds—of recipe and dessert books open and strewn around the dorm. They covered both beds, and almost every inch of the floor.
“Paige?” I called. I tried not to knock over any of the stacks. “Did a book swallow you?”
“No,” a voice muttered from behind a pile of books in the corner. “I just can’t find the recipe.”
“I’ll help after I shower,” I said. I pulled off my boots and hopped over a book pile to get to the bathroom door.
Paige peeked at me from Just Desserts. “It has to be perfect,” she said, sounding a bit panicked.
“It will be,” I soothed. “We’ll stay up all night until we find the right recipe.”
“We have to go to bed at ten thirty,” Paige reminded me.
“Okay, we’ll stay up till ten thirty!”
“What if we pick a top four and I’ll let you taste them?” “If I have to taste, let’s do top ten,” I said.
“Deal!” Paige said.
We both burst into giggles. I was glad to be back at Canterwood with Charm and all my friends.
SCORE WAR
THE GLEAM IN MR. CONNER’S EYES SUGGESTED today’s practice would be tough.
“Good morning!” Mr. Conner’s voice boomed in the indoor arena as we finished our warm up. When the arena was heated, it smelled like horsehair and hay—bad for Alison’s allergies. She sneezed nonstop and caused Sunstruck to shake his head in annoyance.
“Everyone ready to get started?” Mr. Conner asked.
Callie, Alison, Julia, Heather, and I nodded from our horses’ backs. It was almost seven on a frigid Monday morning and we had forty minutes of practice before we went back to our dorms to change and run to class.
Mr. Conner walked around the arena and pointed to four stadium jumps. “This morning, we’re going to work on show jumping.”
He stuck his hands in his black parka. “But this practice is going to be a little different than most.”
The Trio, Callie, and I eyed each other for a second.
“Instead of me giving you feedback, you’re going to score each other,” Mr. Conner said. “On a scale from one to ten, you’ll score how you think each rider completed the course. Watch for speed, hesitation, form, and approach.”
I had to stop myself from groaning out loud—Heather was going to give me a zero. Or a negative two.
Callie and I frowned at each other. The Trio was going to knock us no matter what.
Mr. Conner strode over to us. “You’ll need to explain your score after you give it—a one-sentence answer about your choice will do. Callie, you’re up first.”
“Good luck,” I whispered.
“Start on my go,” Mr. Conner instructed Callie.
She pushed down her white practice helmet and straightened Black Jack in front of the first vertical with blue and white poles. Mr. Conner pressed the red buzzer in his hand and Callie and Jack cantered forward. Callie sat still and allowed Jack to eye the first jump and then soar over it. She gathered Jack in collected canter and pointed him over a faux brush jump. Jack leapt the plastic greenery with inches to spare and yanked his head once—tugging the reins through Callie’s fingers. Callie sat deep in the saddle and tightened the reins before allowing Jack to take off over the liverpool and hop over the final vertical.
Mr. Conner always deducted us for rushing or losing focus, but Callie hadn’t done any of that. She slowed Jack to a trot and lined up with us. The four simple fences hadn’t winded Jack a bit and he struck the ground with his front hoof—eager to take the course again.
“Scores, please,” Mr. Conner said. He pointed to me.
“Eight,” I said. “Jack drifted for a second, but you easily got him under control.”
“Seven,” Julia said. She shifted Trix’s reins from one hand to the other. “Jack rushed the third jump and he almost tugged the reins out of your hands once.”
Callie frowned slightly, but didn’t say a word.
“Seven, too,” Alison offered. She pulled at the end of her ponytail. “You could have circled him before taking the last fence. I think he needed extra time.”
All of our gazes went to Heather.
“Three.”
Oh, please. I folded my arms across my chest and glared at Heather. A bucketful of cold water to dump on her head would be nice.
“Three?” Callie sputtered.
“You’re lucky,” Heather interrupted. “I was going to say two, but I didn’t want to completely crush you.”
“But—” Callie started.
“Callie,” Mr. Conner cut in. “Don’t defend. Just listen. You can talk when Heather’s finished.”
Heather glared at Callie with arched eyebrows. “Black Jack wasn’t collected, he didn’t pay attention to your cues, and you had to work way too hard just to get him over four simple fences. Obviously, you didn’t practice once over break.”
Ouch. But now that I’d heard her explanation, I realized Heather was right. Callie hadn’t been in control.
Callie’s face reddened. She urged Black Jack forward until he stood next to Aristocrat. “I practiced every day over break at my old stable,” Callie argued. “Jack may have acted up, but our ride wasn’t even close to a three. You’re just jealous.”
“Girls,” Mr. Conner called. He waved the clipboard in the air. “That’s enough. This is not the p
oint of the exercise. No arguing with your judges. Listen to your scores, but don’t defend your ride. Use this as a critique circle. Julia, please get ready.”
Julia and Trix breezed through the course. We all gave Julia eights and she whispered, “Yes!” when we were finished. Trix’s bay coat didn’t even have a hint of sweat.
Alison rode next. Sunstruck took the course easily, but Alison couldn’t keep the hot-blooded Arabian’s head down. Everyone, even Heather, gave her a seven and she nodded in agreement.
“Heather,” Mr. Conner said. He watched from the side of the arena. “You’re up.”
Smiling under her helmet, Heather pulled on Aristocrat’s reins until he lowered his head and backed up straight to the starting line. I couldn’t even get Charm to back like that yet.
Heather’s slim legs gripped the new Christmas present I’d heard her talking to Julia and Alison about before practice—a gorgeous, supple Stübben eventing saddle. She settled herself into the expensive leather. Mr. Conner hit the buzzer and Aristocrat shot forward. Heather wasn’t even pushing him. His taut muscles rippled beneath his shiny coat and, unbelievably, he looked even better than he had last month. He was focused and agile, and he took the jumps as if they were ground poles. Heather guided him over the second, third, and final jump. Aristocrat’s ears flicked back, awaiting any command from Heather, and he didn’t lose focus for a millisecond. Per-fect.
With a triumphant smile, Heather pulled Aristocrat to a stop in front of us and he tossed his mane and eyeballed Charm. Charm raised his head and mouthed the bit. He knew we had to beat them.
“Julia,” Mr. Conner said. “Your score.”
“Ten,” Julia said confidently. “You guys were amazing.”
Alison nodded. “Ten. He listened to every command and your signals were invisible.”
With a small sigh, Callie whispered, “Ten. Good job.” If Heather had just knocked me like she had Callie, I don’t know if I could have given her a ten.
“Ten,” I muttered. “He was fast, but didn’t rush. And you went with him instead of over-controlling him.”
The Canterwood Crest Stable of Books Page 17
