Scandals, Rumors, Lies Page 3
“I’m the opposite,” I said, laughing. “I really should be working on dressage more, though—it’s my weakest area. But Charm and I sooo heart jumping.”
Brit pushed open the tack room door. Eric, bridle over his shoulder, was inside, gathering Luna’s tack.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi, guys,” Eric said to Brit and me.
After fall break, Eric and I had talked. We’d decided we didn’t want to avoid each other all year. Canterwood was stressful enough. We’d even talked about practicing together soon, or trail riding when we got burned out. Our friendship was still new, but Eric was the kind of guy who was naturally, genuinely kind. He always made me feel comfortable and I still felt as if I could call him in the middle of the night if I ever needed him. But maybe that had been part of the problem—I liked Eric too much as a friend. With Jacob, there had always been boyfriend/girlfriend chemistry between us.
“How’s Luna?” I asked.
“Perfect,” Eric said, a smile on his light brown face. “We’ve been especially in sync the past few days. She’s moving well and really listening to me.”
“That’s great!” I said. “I definitely want to watch sometime.”
Eric loved Luna, the flea-bitten gray mare he rode. She was Canterwood’s horse, but Eric was the one who rode her the most. Though he wasn’t on the YENT, Eric was an extremely talented rider who was on his way to one day making the YENT. If he’d had the opportunities that Callie, Alison, and Julia had, he would have been testing with them on Wednesday.
“Maybe we can all practice together soon,” Eric said, extending his smile toward Brit.
“Definitely,” she said. “Our horses haven’t officially met yet.”
Eric brushed his black hair from his eyes. “That’s true. We’ll all have to text and figure out a day.” He lifted Luna’s saddle pad and English saddle onto his arm. “See you later.”
Brit and I waved bye, watching his back until he shut the tack room door.
“He definitely seems as nice as you’ve told me,” Brit said. “It’ll be fun to ride with him sometime.”
“For sure.” I rubbed my finger over Charm’s snaffle bit. “He is a great guy. Even after our breakup, he wasn’t a jerk.” I gathered Charm’s tack. “Do you think we should invite Rachel to ride with us?”
“Is Eric dating her?” Brit asked, referring to the seventh grader Eric had been hanging out with a lot.
“It seems like it,” I said. “I don’t know if it’s casual or serious, but I guess we should think about inviting her.”
I thought back to how I’d despised Rachel and her friends when I’d been with Eric. She’d been crushing on him and even though I’d trusted Eric completely, Rachel had made me jealous. Embarrassingly jealous.
Brit and I walked down the aisle and she reached Apollo’s stall first. The friendly gray gelding had his head poked over the stall door, almost seeming to want to push out the stall door when he saw Brit.
“See you in the arena,” I said.
I hurried down the aisle toward Charm’s stall, weaving around horses in crossties and groups of riders chatting between classes. If I could, I’d spend all day with Charm. It wasn’t just about riding for me—I loved everything about horses from caring for them to learning about nutrition. I dreamed about opening my own stable after college and after … the Olympics.
But first, I had to prove myself on the YENT.
“Hi, gorgeous!” I said to Charm as soon as I saw his copper-colored head with its white blaze over the door, reaching for me. I put down his tack, unlatched his stall door, and closed it behind me. One-on-one time was our thing before a lesson.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. I had to stand on tiptoe to reach him, he was so tall. Charm’s always-clean chestnut coat gleamed from his daily grooming.
“How are you doing today?” I asked, rubbing his cheek. I ran my finger over the gold nameplate on his dark brown leather halter. “Ready for a lesson?”
Charm, obviously able to understand certain words, nodded at “lesson.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I have a feeling that it’s going to be a tough one today.”
Holding on to Charm’s halter, I led him out of his stall and deciding to skip crossties, used a slip-knot to secure his lead line to bars on his stall. Sometimes, it was just nice to stay out of the craziness of the stable before a lesson. It gave me time to calm down after school before jumping into another intense activity.
I opened Charm’s lacquered wooden trunk and pulled out his grooming box. He wasn’t dirty, so I skipped the dandy brush and grabbed his blue body brush. Charm leaned into my brush strokes as I started at his poll and moved down his neck. He was just starting to grow a winter coat. In a couple of months, he’d be fuzzy, even though I blanketed him during every turnout.
The stable chatter got louder as I moved the brush across his withers—lightly flicking dust from him. After his coat was clean, I took his wide-toothed comb and ran it through his trimmed mane and tail.
My mind started to wander as I thought about Jacob and our date. What would I wear? Normally, that was something Paige and I would obsess over together. But, I reminded myself, Brit is just as chic as Paige. She won’t let me go on my first date with Jacob looking like an idiot.
“Are you trying to bald him?”
“Huh?” I said, looking up.
Heather, holding a tacked-up Aristocrat’s reins, looked at me. Troy stood next to her and shot me a smile.
“Our lesson starts in ten,” Heather said. “You better be in there on time, Silver. I’m not waiting for you.”
Ooops!
“I won’t be late,” I said. “Why don’t you go before you’re late?”
Heather just smoothed her sky blue shirt that matched her eyes. “Arena. Nine minutes.”
“See you, Sasha,” Troy said as they walked away.
For a second, I watched them. Heather was starting her first relationship and Troy was perfect for her. A rider, smart and funny—he was the guy for Heather. It had taken a lot of prodding to convince her to text him to say hi over fall break. But once she had, they’d started chatting more and more. I’d even seen them talking over steaming mugs of hot chocolate at The Sweet Shoppe.
Charm snorted, almost as if he was reminding me about the time.
“Right!” I said. “Tacking you up now.”
Being careful but with one eye on the big wall clock, I hurried through getting Charm ready and snapped on my black helmet. Charm walked beside me. He knew we were going for a lesson. He pulled on the reins, eager to get to the arena, and stepped ahead of me.
“Hey,” I said. “Take it easy.”
I pulled on the reins, slowing my own pace, and forcing Charm back beside me. His Thoroughbred blood made him a little overexcited sometimes and he was still a relatively young horse for the type of work we were doing.
Charm listened to me and fell back into place beside me, walking quietly. We reached the massive indoor arena and I halted him. Calm now, he stood still when I slid my left boot into the stirrup and lifted myself into the saddle.
I kept him at a walk and we made our way to the wall. Brit and Heather, already warming up, were trotting their horses. Heather took Aristocrat, her Thoroughbred gelding, through serpentines and while Brit posted as Apollo worked at a collected trot. Charm tossed his head, his mane flying. He pulled on the bit, wanting to catch up to the other horses that were on the other side of the arena.
I did a half-halt like Kim, my first instructor, had taught me. I made Charm stay at a walk. He couldn’t get away with doing whatever he wanted or he’d never listen to me. When we’d made a complete circle around the arena at a walk, I let him into a trot. He jumped forward, trying to break into a canter, when he saw Apollo only a few strides ahead of him.
“Charm,” I said, my voice low. I pulled him back to a walk, causing him to shake his head. It was going to be one of those lessons where I couldn’t lose fo
cus for a second. That wasn’t going to be easy since my mind wanted to be thinking about Jacob.
And his smile.
And his eyes, that were a sparkly green when he looked at me.
And …
Mr. Conner walked into the arena. I sat deeper in the saddle and guided Charm to the center of the arena. Brit and Heather rode up too, and we halted in front of Mr. Conner.
He wore his regular riding gear—a hunter green shirt with CCA’s logo stitched in gold, tall black boots, and breeches. I felt Charm settle beneath me. He was still intimidated by Mr. Conner too.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” Mr. Conner said.
Heather, Brit, and I nodded at him.
Mr. Conner tucked his clipboard under one elbow as he folded his arms. “We have a lot of work to get through today, but I want to speak with you first.”
In my place between Brit and Heather, I glanced quickly at each of them. They both had the same I don’t know what’s going on looks on their faces.
Mr. Conner smiled at us. “There’s nothing wrong and no one’s in trouble,” he said, obviously catching our worried glances.
I relaxed a little, but not much. Whenever Mr. Conner addressed us, there was always an important reason.
“You all performed incredibly well at the schooling show,” Mr. Conner said. “It was a great warm-up to the show season.”
Thinking about the show made me proud to be part of Canterwood’s YENT team. We’d performed well together and had rallied around Brit when Apollo had gotten injured. The bruised hoof had brought Heather, Brit, and me closer and I’d spent a lot of hours helping Brit ice Apollo’s hoof and walk him in the cushy grass in the big back pasture.
“Before Thanksgiving break,” Mr. Conner said. “There will be a show at Huntington Stables—the Huntington Classic.”
Huntington? The word reverberated in my brain. The grounds, only a few hours away, were legendary for hosting qualifying shows. Just being able to say you rode at Huntington was an honor.
“As I’m sure you know,” Mr. Conner said. “Riding at your level at Huntington is by invite only.” Mr. Conner paused, looking at each of us for a second.
“I’m proud and pleased to announce that you have all been invited to show at Huntington for Canterwood Crest’s YENT team before Thanksgiving break,” Mr. Conner said.
“But …” Brit said, shaking her head. “How? Apollo and I didn’t even finish our jumping class at the schooling show.”
“The committee at Huntington doesn’t just pay attention to a rider’s performance at one show,” Mr. Conner said. “They choose to invite teams who perform well on a consistent basis. Even though you’ve all only ridden together once, your individual performances have been taken into consideration whenever you’ve performed.”
“Wow,” Brit said, obviously ecstatic.
“Are we scheduling extra practices?” Heather asked.
Mr. Conner nodded. “We’re going back to morning and afternoon lessons. I don’t want anyone or their horses to be pushed, so on some days we will either do morning or afternoon lessons. If you want to practice more, your hours to be in the stable riding will be extended, but I have to clear your request first.”
Heather stiffened in the saddle. I knew she hated that new rule. She practiced, almost to the point of overworking herself and Aristocrat, on a regular basis. When shows were involved, she practically lived in the arena.
“If you have questions, please ask now or come find me any time,” Mr. Conner said. He held up three envelopes. “These are copies of permission slips that will be sent to your parents. It also explains an important aspect of the Huntington Classic that I’ve yet to mention.”
My heartbeat sped up. Brit, Heather, and I looked at each other again. Hello, potential whiplash!
“There will be seven other YENT teams competing at the Classic,” Mr. Conner said. “Individual riders will be rewarded for their performances and their points will be added together for a team score.”
P-R-E-S-S-U-R-E.
I clenched my fingers around the reins, trying to keep my breathing steady. I’d known since I’d made the YENT that my score would affect my teammates. But now, at the Huntington Classic, it suddenly felt like a bigger deal than ever.
Mr. Conner seemed to be watching us carefully with his dark eyes, judging our reactions. “The three YENT teams who score the highest in your level will receive an incredible honor—an invite to the Essex Fall Show.”
I thought I was going to slip from Charm’s saddle. First Huntington. Now Essex. These were shows I’d watched on DVD since I was a kid. Now I was competing in one with a shot at competing in the other.
“Wow,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Conner smiled. “Please keep in mind that this is all far off in the future and we don’t want to become a team that is only focused on showing. We will still maintain our level of dedication to horse care, nutrition, and most of all, love of riding—not just showing.”
Love of riding was something I never worried about losing.
“One more item in the letter,” Mr. Conner said. “Is to inform your parents that if—and please try not to immediately begin to focus on this—you perform well at Huntington and Essex, Canterwood’s YENT team will have a chance at going to nationals in the spring.”
I almost choked.
Mr. Conner raised his hand. “I did not want to bombard you with all of this information so early in the show season, but your parents had to be informed about possible traveling and how it would affect your school schedule.”
“We can so do this!” Heather said. Her confidence was infectious. It made me grin and Brit nodded.
“I really think we can,” Brit said. “We’re going to work hard, Mr. Conner.”
“We won’t disappoint you,” I added.
Mr. Conner’s smile was soft. “None of you are ever disappointments to me. I know you will all work hard, but I want you to maintain your grades, keep seeing your friends, and remember that showing isn’t everything. Yes, this is all important for your careers as riders. But I want you all to enjoy yourselves, too, and reward yourselves for the work you’ve already done and will do in the future.”
We nodded. And no matter how exciting (and terrifying!) all of these show dates were, I knew I wasn’t going to give up the balance I’d just found with school, friends, and riding. Plus, Jacob and I were just starting a relationship. I wasn’t going to give up my second chance with Jacob. But that didn’t mean I’d jeopardize my riding career. I could juggle everything—I knew it.
“And now that I’ve told you, oh, just a little bit of information—” Mr. Conner said, his tone teasing. “—ready to get started?”
“Yes!” we all answered.
WHO WILL WIN THE PRIZE?
STILL REELING FROM MR. CONNER’S announcement and the grueling lesson we’d just had, I eased Charm toward the arena wall. We were behind Aristocrat and in front of Apollo.
Aristocrat, a chestnut darker than Charm, was Charm’s ex-archnemesis. Charm and Aristocrat had hated each other until Heather and I had become friends. The two horses had seemed to sense that the tension had dissipated between Heather and me. It had only helped our team that Heather, Brit, and I were all friends.
We all dismounted and the second Mr. Conner left the arena, we let out girly squeals—even the never-impressed-by-anything Heather.
“Omigod, omigod,” I said. “I can’t believe it! We actually might be traveling! This is really, really it. These shows are huge.”
We started to lead the horses in lazy circles around the arena to cool them down.
“Don’t think about the names of the shows, Silver,” Heather said. “Or you’ll probably faint.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please.”
“Guys, this is big,” Brit said. “But I think Mr. Conner’s right—we can’t focus on all of the shows at once. We have to take them one at a time. If we don’t, we’ll miss the excitement of
one show because we’re already looking forward to the next.”
Surprisingly, Heather nodded. “You’re right.”
And that was a phrase I’d never heard Heather Fox utter. I almost wanted to mark the date and time that she told someone else they were right.
We walked the horses until they were cool and started to lead them in opposite directions. The three of us were silent as we walked the horses.
“But we do have one thing to keep in mind,” Heather called to Brit and me. We stopped and turned, looking at her.
“Jasmine.”
• • •
I blocked out Heather’s parting words as I groomed Charm, put a light blanket on him, and turned him out in the pasture. He deserved a break outside since the weather was nice and Mike had promised to bring him in before nightfall.
I walked past the outdoor arena, stopping as I watched Mr. Conner coach three riders in the arena.
Callie, Julia, and Alison were all cantering their horses around Mr. Conner. He was prepping them for Wednesday’s YENT testing.
Callie and Black Jack caught my attention first. The black gelding, always attentive to Callie, moved well under her. They crossed across the arena and he did a flying lead change without a second of hesitation.
Even from yards away, I could see the look of serious determination on Julia’s face. She’d pinned her blond hair back and her lips were pressed together. She thumped her heels into Trix’s sides and the bay mare leapt forward.
“Julia!” Mr. Conner called.
Julia eased Trix to a walk, then a halt. She ducked her head, already knowing she’d done the wrong thing.
“There’s no reason to use your heels that hard,” Mr. Conner said. “If you push Trix like that again, you’re sitting out the rest of the lesson. Understand?”
Julia’s face blushed Bubble Yum pink. “Yes, sir,” she said.
“Please try again,” Mr. Conner said. He folded his arms and his eyes followed Julia as she gently urged her compact mare into a trot, then a canter. This time, her movements were soft and when she reached the center of the arena, she signaled Trix to change leads. The mare seemed to freeze for a second, then did as Julia asked.