Carole slumped down more comfortably in her chair and gazed at her notebook again. She knew she should be thinking about those lab action steps. But the only actions she felt interested in planning at the moment were her own for the next couple of weeks. She was going to be busy, and she wanted to be ready.
The horse show’s a week from Saturday, she thought. That gives me ten more days to get Samson into his peak condition. At the same time, of course, I need to work on finding the perfect new owner for Starlight.
She paused to think about that second task for a moment, trying to hold down her emotional response to the idea of finding a buyer for her beloved horse and think about it logically. It helped a little to imagine how Lisa might look at it.
She would probably point out that matching up a perfect horse-and-rider pair is always tricky, Carole thought. But then she’d also remind me that Starlight is such a wonderful horse that anyone would be lucky to have him. He’s well trained, healthy, and sound. He’s still young enough to offer years of performance and companionship. He doesn’t have any serious vices. And he’s more than talented enough to win somebody a whole roomful of ribbons, to match the ones he’s won with me.
That made her feel a little bit better, and it made her feel better still to know that Stevie was already on the job, helping her find that perfect owner. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to handle it by herself, especially with everything else that was going on.
If I’m lucky, she thought, maybe we can even get it all taken care of before the show. Realizing that that was pretty unlikely, she amended the thought. Or at least get the process well under way. Maybe find a couple of likely prospects. Then, when Samson and I turn in a brilliant performance at the show—she paused long enough to rap lightly on the wooden top of her desk for luck, bringing another inquisitive glance from her neighbor across the aisle—and Dad is feeling proud of me, I can bring up the idea of maybe, possibly, somehow, figuring out a way to buy Samson from Max.
That last part was the only thing that was making her a little nervous. Samson was a valuable horse, and Max really couldn’t afford to let him go for less than he was worth. Still, Carole knew that she would find a way to meet the price somehow. The money from the sale of Starlight would help, of course—he was worth much more now than what her father had paid for him, thanks to all the training Carole had done over the years.
Again, Carole felt a pang when she thought about the reality of actually selling Starlight. But she was trying not to dwell on that. She needed to focus on the bright side of the situation, and that was Samson. She couldn’t wait until he belonged to her, and she needed to do everything she could to make sure it happened as soon as possible.
Returning her thoughts to the topic of money, she scribbled a few numbers in the margin of her notebook, trying to figure out how much she would need. Luckily, her birthday was coming up the week after the horse show. That has to be good for a few more bucks from Dad, she thought. Plus, I’ve got a little money saved up from work. …
Finally she gave up on trying to estimate the financial details. Max was a reasonable guy, and he knew how well Carole and Samson went together. She was sure he would let her work out some sort of installment plan, if that was what it took. The whole idea of her owning Samson was so perfect, so right, that Carole was positive it would work out somehow.
Whatever I have to do, it will all be worth it, Carole thought. An image of Starlight flashed into her mind again, but she blinked it away and stared fixedly at her notebook. It will definitely be worth it when Samson is all mine.
“… and so I figure if I don’t think about all the show experience the other riders have, I won’t be able to psych myself out, and I might actually have a shot to do really well.”
Callie leaned her elbow on the lab table and did her best to seem as though she were listening to George. “Hmmm,” she said when he paused for breath.
“All I need to do is prepare myself and my horse as best I can and then focus on our own performance instead of worrying about anyone else.”
Callie sighed. George had turned up to walk her to chemistry class again that day, and again she hadn’t known how to escape. Because they were lab partners, they sat together in class, and for the past five minutes, while the teacher explained something to another student, George had been sharing his views on the Zen of horse show preparation with her. She wasn’t sure she could stand it much longer. She wasn’t sure she could stand him much longer. No matter how many times she told herself that he was a nice person, that it wasn’t his fault that he was nerdy and annoying, she couldn’t seem to make herself like him any better.
“Anyway, no matter how I do, it’s a real treat for me just to be—” Suddenly George broke off in mid-sentence. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He leaned over to dig into his backpack, exposing a pale sliver of skin between his pants and the hem of his shirt. Callie averted her eyes and did her best simply to appreciate the moment of quiet. When George sat up again, he was clutching a foil-wrapped package about the size of a hardcover book. “I was going to give this to you this morning, but then Stevie interrupted us,” he said, presenting the package to Callie.
“Um …” Callie wasn’t sure what to say. She turned the package over, trying to figure out how to react. “What is it?”
“Open it.” George grinned. “It’s for you.”
With a feeling of dread, Callie peeled back the shiny gold paper until she could see the label on the box underneath. “Chocolates,” she said blankly.
“I remembered how much you said you love chocolate. You mentioned it at the dance.” George looked proud of himself. “Do you like them?” He peered at her expectantly.
Fortunately, their teacher walked to the front of the room at that moment and called for attention, so Callie was saved from answering.
Still, she knew she had to do something before the situation with George got any further out of hand. She had to end this relationship, if you could call it that, before she got so frustrated and annoyed with him that she wouldn’t be able to talk to him politely anymore and would say something that would really hurt him. Clearly the problem wasn’t going to go away on its own, as she had hoped.
“Listen,” Callie said as the teacher turned to begin writing the lab procedure on the chalkboard. “I need to talk to you about something. Can you meet me in the south stairwell before lunch?”
George’s face lit up. “Sure,” he agreed quickly. “I’ll be there as soon as I get out of fourth period.”
Callie nodded, turning away to avoid the eager, trusting look in his eyes. Now all she had to do was spend the next three class periods figuring out what to say.
FOURTEEN
As she changed into her gym clothes before physed, Stevie struggled to hold on to her positive feeling from earlier that day. But it wasn’t easy.
“Anyway,” Veronica diAngelo said loudly, “I’m sure Valerie will make an excellent president. She has so many good ideas. And unlike some people, her ideas actually are her own.”
Stevie gritted her teeth. Veronica was ostensibly talking to her friend Nicole, but it was perfectly obvious that she was aiming her comments at Stevie and Callie, who were only a few yards away. It was only third period and the election results weren’t in yet, but Veronica seemed to be assuming that she’d gotten what she’d wanted, as usual.
Callie shot Stevie a sympathetic look, seeming to guess what she was thinking. “Hang in there,” she murmured, leaning against the row of lockers as she watched Stevie pull on a pair of sweat socks. “It’ll all be over soon, one way or the other.”
“I just wish Miss Fenton would hurry up and announce who won already,” Stevie grumbled, shoving her feet into her sneakers. “Put us all out of our misery.”
Veronica’s voice got a little louder as she continued talking to Nicole. “Besides, it would be better if we had a president who couldn’t be influenced by so-called campaign managers who are actually just overinvolved gi
rlfriends.”
Stevie closed her eyes for a second, but she didn’t make a sound. Callie shot her a surprised look. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.” Stevie smiled pleasantly. “Just fine.” She leaned over to tie her shoes.
When she sat up, Callie was gazing at her in surprise. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean, didn’t you hear—”
“I heard her,” Stevie interrupted. “And yes, I’d really like to walk over there and tell her off. But it’s not worth it. It doesn’t matter.”
“Really?”
Stevie shook her head. “I realized something yesterday,” she said. “People are always ready to believe the worst about other people. It’s, like, human nature or something.”
Callie blinked. “What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t make people bad, necessarily,” Stevie explained. She’d been thinking about this topic a lot over the past twenty-four hours. Scrubbing out her mother’s sizable collection of empty clay flowerpots after her phone call to Phil had given her plenty of time to ponder it. “It’s like the way you almost believed for a second that Scott and I could have been sneaking around together.” She shrugged. “And it’s the same way that Phil was starting to think, too, just because I’ve been talking about Scott so much lately.”
“Wow.” Callie looked surprised again. “I didn’t know he felt that way.”
“I didn’t realize it myself until yesterday,” Stevie admitted. “I mean, it’s kind of ridiculous that the thought would even cross his mind. It doesn’t really mean he doesn’t trust me or anything like that, but actions speak louder than words, I guess. So that’s why I called him up right after school to apologize and let him know he’s still number one in my book, even if I haven’t been acting like it lately. That was all it took to make Phil feel better, and it kind of made me feel better, too.”
Veronica and Nicole walked past at that moment on their way out of the locker room. “Did I hear right?” Veronica said in mock surprise. “Did you just mention Phil? I assumed things were all over between you two, now that you and Scott are an item. Or aren’t you planning to tell him about that?”
Stevie rolled her eyes. “Do us all a favor, Veronica,” she snapped. “Go stick your finger in a light socket.”
Veronica and Nicole just smirked and continued on their way. Callie shook her head and watched them go with a little frown on her face.
“Okay, Stevie,” she said when the other girls were out of earshot. “I think I see what you’re saying. But if it’s true, then doesn’t that mean Scott is probably in trouble? I mean, look at it this way. He’s the action candidate, and like you said, actions speak louder than words.”
“Right.” Stevie grabbed an elastic from the top shelf of her gym locker and gathered her dark blond hair into a ponytail. “So?”
“So you also said that people are willing to believe the worst—meaning, in this case, all Veronica’s nasty lies and rumors. So if that’s true, too, then all Scott’s actions could still be for nothing because Veronica will be able to convince everyone that he didn’t really do anything.”
Stevie thought about that for a second. “I don’t think so,” she said at last. “Actually, I think the opposite is true. Veronica’s lifetime of sneaky, dishonest actions will make people know better than to believe anything she says for long, even if they listen to it at first. So that’s another way of actions speaking loudly. Or something like that.” She grinned and threw up her hands. “I don’t know. I think I’m starting to confuse myself now. Lisa’s the logical one, not me.” She swung her locker door shut and stood up. “All I know is that after all we’ve been through in this election, Scott has to win.”
Callie smiled. “Is that your logical side talking?”
“No way.” Stevie shook her head grimly. “Logic doesn’t have anything to do with it. He has to win because I couldn’t bear for things to turn out any other way.”
George was already waiting when Callie arrived at the south stairwell just before lunch. She had chosen the spot purposely because she’d known it was likely to be deserted at that hour—the cafeteria was located across from the north stairwell, so almost everyone went that way to get to lunch. Sure enough, George was alone, leaning against the baluster at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hi.” Callie stepped forward to meet him. Her voice echoed slightly in the deserted three-story stairwell. She glanced up briefly at the shafts of sunlight cutting through the stale, dusty air from the narrow vertical windows on the landings above. Then she turned her attention back to George. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“No problem,” George replied, taking a step toward her. “I’ll meet you anytime, anywhere, Callie.”
Callie cleared her throat, causing another echo. “Um, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I, um, I think maybe things are moving a little too fast here.”
It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him that she had absolutely no interest in going out with him ever again and she was absolutely positive that her feelings were never going to change. But she figured that was a little harsh—there was no need to be cruel about this.
George looked crestfallen. “What do you mean?”
“I just don’t think things are working out,” Callie said gently. “You know, between us.”
“But they are,” George protested. “I mean, we had fun at the dance the other night, right? And we have so much in common.”
“I know.” Callie didn’t bother to correct his assumption that she’d had as good a time at the dance as he had. “It’s not that. And it’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just that I don’t like you in that way, you know?”
“I see.” George was silent for a moment. His round, pale face wore a slight frown, but otherwise there was no sign of the heartbroken disappointment Callie had expected. In fact, he seemed surprisingly calm.
She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Um, are you all right?”
“I’m okay.” George gave his head a brisk shake, like a horse shaking off a pesky fly. Then he looked at her earnestly. “None of this means that we can’t still be friends, right?”
Callie felt slightly confused, as if she’d missed a beat somewhere. She had been sure that George would freak out when she broke things off with him. But he didn’t even seem upset. It was a little strange. She couldn’t have misjudged his feelings so completely, could she?
Realizing that he was waiting for an answer, she forced a smile. “Sure,” she said. “Of course. I hope we’ll always be friends.”
“Good.” George looked satisfied. “All right, then. I guess that’s settled.” He tilted his head to one side and smiled. “So is it all right if a friend walks another friend to lunch?”
“Um, sure.” Callie still felt confused, not to mention a little guilty. But as they left the stairwell together and headed for the cafeteria, she mostly just felt relieved that it was all over.
By the time sixth period rolled around, Stevie’s calm mood had evaporated completely. She was a nervous wreck as she walked into chemistry class and took her seat beside Scott.
“Hey,” he greeted her. “Hanging in there?”
“Not really,” she replied. Her anxiety had increased with every passing hour. She’d flubbed every answer when her teacher called on her in her fourth-period English lit class. And she’d spent most of her lunch period and her fifth-period study hall glancing at the PA speaker every two seconds. “What about you?
He shrugged and smiled pensively. “Let’s just say this isn’t my favorite part.”
Stevie nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. “I’m just glad you’re the actual candidate instead of me,” she told him. “Otherwise I really don’t think I could survive all this suspense.”
Scott patted her on the arm. “Hey, just remember,” he told her. “Whatever happens, I appreciate everything you did. You’re an awesome campaign manager.”
/> “Thanks.” Stevie managed a small smile.
She was pulling her lab notebook out of her backpack when the PA system crackled to life. She sat bolt upright, her heart pounding.
Most of the other students murmured with excitement as their headmistress’s familiar, reedy voice greeted them through the speaker. “This is it,” Scott murmured under his breath.
Stevie shot him a quick glance and then turned back toward the speaker over the door, as if by staring at it she could make Miss Fenton’s words come faster. This is it, she repeated to herself, crossing her fingers on both hands.
“Students,” Miss Fenton’s voice announced. “I’m sure that you’re all eager to hear the results of this morning’s special election for student body president. I won’t keep you in suspense much longer, but I want to take just a moment and say that it was a close and interesting race. All of our candidates had marvelous ideas about ways to improve our school, and they all deserve our thanks and respect for wanting to take the responsibility of serving us in this important office.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Stevie muttered, tapping the side of her foot nervously against the leg of her lab table. She was sure she would explode if she had to wait one more minute for the result. “Get on with it.”
Miss Fenton did. “Without further ado,” she said, “I am very pleased to announce that our new student body president is …”
Stevie held her breath. Beside her, she felt Scott tense and lean forward with anticipation.
“… Scott Forester!”
FIFTEEN
After school that day, Stevie still felt as if someone had pumped her full of helium and sent her skyward. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to have all her hard work on the election pay off.
Life is good, she thought as she pulled into the driveway of Pine Hollow. She smiled as she realized that it seemed like an odd thing to think. After all, she was still grounded.
But everything else really was pretty wonderful. Scott had won the election. She and Phil were back on track and better than ever. Belle was in terrific shape for next weekend’s horse show.…
Course of Action Page 15
