Elite Ambition Page 9

  Aristocrat slowed, listening to Heather’s cue, but still took off a few inches too close to the jump. His knees knocked the top rail and it tumbled to the ground. Heather let him canter for a few more strides before pulling him to a trot, then finally a walk. She patted his neck, but shook her head.

  “What’s the verdict?” Heather asked.

  I shifted in the saddle. “It was a perfect round until the final jump. Aristocrat didn’t respond in time to your cue, so maybe you need to work him through a refresher with flatwork and then try the course again.”

  Heather nodded. “That’s a good idea. What about my posture?”

  “Your legs slid too far forward a few times, but, otherwise, you were great.”

  Heather smiled. “Thanks. After I watch you jump, I’ll do flatwork.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I asked Charm to walk and moved him away from the course. Like Aristocrat, Charm had a tendency to get excited on courses. We moved through a few circles before I held him at an easy, slow canter up to the first vertical. Just like Aristocrat, Charm flew over the first jump and the next vertical. His attention was on the oxer, and I let him increase his speed just enough to get him over the spread.

  I started counting strides in my head. Three, two, one …

  On “one,” I rose out of the saddle and Charm leaned back on his haunches, pushing off the dirt ground. Adrenaline kicked in and I loved the feeling of hovering in the air, even for a few seconds, above the ground. Charm landed softly on the other side, his hooves hitting the dirt with barely a sound.

  The next vertical, with flower boxes on the sides, was strides away. But Charm was prepared. He moved with ease over the vertical and didn’t even glance at the faux flowers. The next vertical and the second oxer, with a wider spread, were no problem for Charm. The daily workouts we had with Mr. Conner kept us both in good shape.

  Remembering how Aristocrat had rushed the final jump, and not wanting to make the same mistake, I slowed Charm well before we reached the vertical. I kept my fingers closed around the reins and my legs light against his side, signaling that I wanted him to keep the same speed. Charm responded to my cues and didn’t try to yank the reins through my fingers to move faster.

  We’ve got this! I thought, smiling to myself.

  We finished our half circle, and I pointed him at the jump. My head snapped up as I saw Callie and Brit. There was no doubt what they were doing—they were battling. It wasn’t a dangerous, pushing-the-limits-with-the-horses type of fight. But Brit and Callie’s battle looked like a carefully calculated, well-practiced ballet on horseback.

  Omigod! I looked back between Charm’s ears, desperate for a clean ride and to get him over the higher vertical. But I knew it was too late. His takeoff was too late and he knocked the poles.

  Cringing, I pulled him to a halt—not wanting to look back at Heather. She was going to know exactly what had happened.

  And she was going to rip me for it.

  I swallowed and turned Charm toward Heather. The look on her face was exactly what I’d expected. She had her head cocked, an eyebrow arched, and her eyes were locked on my face.

  “Do it again,” she said. “Right now. That was ridiculous.”

  “I know,” I said. “I shouldn’t have—”

  Heather waved her hand. “Stop talking.”

  I closed my mouth—embarrassment making me sink into the saddle.

  “That was worse than a beginner mistake—I don’t even know what to call it. You could have hurt Charm or yourself, especially with a jump of that height.”

  I lowered my head, knowing she was right. The most dangerous time to lose focus was when jumping. I reached down to rub Charm’s neck, feeling awful for putting him at risk.

  “Don’t,” Heather said. “The mushy stuff wastes my time. Turn around and do the course again.”

  “Okay.” My face was flushed from Heather’s comments, but at least she’d kept her voice low and Callie and Brit couldn’t have heard what she said.

  I didn’t even circle Charm, I directed him back to the course, shook off my nerves, and kept my focus where it should have been in the first place—on my ride. Charm responded to the extra attention. His back became more supple, and the tension I hadn’t noticed during our first ride disappeared.

  I kept my eyes trained on each jump in front of us, and my own breaths seemed to match Charm’s.

  We headed for the final jump with no doubt in my brain that we’d clear it. At the right second, Charm pushed up off the ground and launched into the air. This round, our timing was right. He landed cleanly with his back hooves hitting the dirt well away from the jump.

  “Good boy,” I said. I patted his shoulder, letting him canter for a few more strides before slowing him to a trot and then a walk.

  Allowing him to stretch his neck, I gave him a few extra inches of rein. I halted him in front of Heather and she looked at me, not saying anything.

  “What?” I asked. “That was way better! You can’t say I wasn’t focused.”

  “Omigod, calm down. Did I say you weren’t paying attention this time?”

  “No,” I grumbled.

  “Then shut up and listen.” Heather half smiled. “That was actually a good ride. When you’re only thinking about the next jump and your horse, you’re not an awful rider. Your hands did move around too much on landings and you can’t plop back in the saddle like you did when Charm landed after the oxer.”

  I listened, even though it was hard to be critiqued, because I knew if anyone would be right—it would be Heather.

  “Charm also did better during this ride. He knew you were paying attention to him, and he didn’t try to pull anything. You need to get over being distracted by other riders—it’s only going to get worse as we start showing for the YENT.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I know. Charm and I worked so hard to get on the team and I can’t mess it up now. Not for anything.”

  “Good.” Heather’s tone was serious. “Prove it and run through flatwork with me.”

  Without another word, we exercised the horses until sweat darkened their coats. Heather and I looked at each other, nodding, and slowed the horses from a working trot to a walk. For forty minutes, I hadn’t watched Callie or Brit. Everything Heather had said resonated with me, and I’d kept my concentration on Charm. With the schooling show only days away, I didn’t have time to be distracted.

  “I’m going to cool him out,” Heather said. She dismounted and looked up at me. “You finished?”

  “Yeah, we’re done. I’m waiting for Brit. We’re going on a trail ride.”

  Heather gave me a lazy wave. “Have fun.”

  She loosened Aristocrat’s girth and led him out of the arena.

  Brit turned Apollo in a circle, noticing Heather leaving. She walked her gelding over. “I’m so done,” she said. “You still up for trail riding?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “It’s time to get out of the arena.”

  Side-by-side, we let the horses walk toward the exit, leaving Callie and Black Jack alone in the arena.

  14

  SQUIRREL PHOBIA

  IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN A BETTER TIME TO get away from the stable, campus, and, well, everything. Brit and I were quiet as we walked the horses over the grassy space behind the stable and headed for the woods. With every step Charm took, the anxiety I felt about everything going on lessened. Trail riding was one of my favorite things to do, and I needed it before tomorrow, when Jacob told Callie the truth.

  “Callie’s a fantastic dressage rider,” Brit said, almost as if she could tell that I was thinking about her.

  “She’s amazing,” I said. “She works harder than anyone I know. It was really awful when she didn’t make the YENT at our last tryouts.”

  “Well, the way she just rode, I can’t believe she didn’t make it,” Brit said. “What happened?” She shook her head. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me that. I know she used to be your bes
t friend.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I said. “It actually feels good to talk about the situation with someone who wasn’t around when it happened.”

  The horses stepped onto the dirt path and I neck-reined Charm, taking in every bit of enjoyment from the ride.

  “Callie was the most focused rider ever. Probably in, like, school history,” I said. “We were almost immediate best friends when I came to Canterwood. But …”

  Siiigh. I just couldn’t tell Brit about the Jacob sitch yet. It was too risky before tomorrow.

  “But,” I continued. “We let a guy get between us and now we’re not friends. Callie sort of lost focus on riding, which had been all she’d cared about, and it cost her a spot on the YENT. It was hard to see her go through that.”

  I flashed back to the moment when Callie had left Mr. Conner’s office after he’d told her his decision. Heather and I had been waiting outside the bench, probably both equally nervous to hear the decision. Callie and Heather had never been friends, but Heather knew Callie was a great rider who deserved to make the team despite her mistakes in the days before testing.

  “Hey,” Brit said, her voice soft. “Sorry. You look so sad. I didn’t mean to bring up something that made you upset.”

  “No, no. It’s not that at all. I was just thinking about how Callie handled it when she didn’t make the team. At least when she tests this time, she’ll know she did everything she could—no matter what happens. Last time, she accepted the decision because she didn’t think she’d been focused enough.”

  “That’s hard,” Brit said. “I went through something kind of like that last year. I crushed on this guy in science class and pretty much obsessed about him every second. Instead of practicing like I should have for a big show, I was going to all of his basketball games and hoping he’d notice me.”

  “Did he?” I asked.

  We both ducked as our horses entered the woods and walked under a low-hanging tree branch.

  “I finally went up to him to say hi at one of his games,” Brit said. “And he had no clue who I was. He was like, ‘Don’t we have math together or something?’ I was so embarrassed! We’d shared a science textbook before and he didn’t even remember.”

  “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed,” I said. “He should have been for not remembering you.” I sighed. “Boys.”

  Brit and I laughed, letting Charm and Apollo pick their pace as they walked down the dirt path. Both horses seemed content with an easy walk, and Charm bobbed his head as he moved.

  “I think they’re enjoying the scenery as much as I am,” Brit said. “It’s gorgeous out here.”

  “I know—I love it too. There are a zillion trails around here that I can show you.”

  Brit grinned. “Awesome.”

  Apollo and Charm started down a slight incline, and Brit and I leaned back in the saddle to keep our balance. The dirt path leveled off after a few yards, and now the trees were so dense around us that I couldn’t see any part of campus. I tried to stay relaxed, but my mind kept shifting to Callie and Jacob. There was no way I could predict what was going to happen between them. Part of me wondered if Callie would want to talk to me tomorrow, but the other half felt like she wouldn’t, once Jacob told her that he and I were going to try dating.

  A squirrel darted onto the path and then tore off into the brush causing a loud rustling. Apollo snorted, yanking on the reins and crabstepping. Brit pushed her heel into his side, but Apollo took another step sideways and caused my boot to bump against Brit’s. Caught off guard, I steadied myself in the saddle.

  “Sorry!” Brit said. She halted Apollo and rubbed his neck. White showed around the gelding’s eyes and his nostrils flared pink.

  “Omigosh, don’t worry about it,” I said. “It happens! He’s in a new surrounding, and Charm’s spooked plenty of times.”

  Brit took a breath and turned Apollo in a few circles. “Thanks, Sash. I’ll keep a better eye on him. Your leg’s okay, right?”

  I waved my hand. “Totally fine. You barely brushed against me. Let’s keep going. The trail gets even better—you’ll see.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to let him think we’re going home because of that,” Brit said. “He’ll calm down again as we keep walking.”

  We started the horses forward at a walk and the trail widened. I scooted Charm a few inches away from Apollo, giving Brit extra room in case Apollo spooked again.

  “He’s always been afraid of squirrels,” Brit said. “I don’t know what happened before I got him, but he has definite squirrel phobia. How long have you had Charm?”

  “I got Charm when he was five, and I’ve had him for about four years. He was supergreen when my parents bought him. During our first few weeks together, I spent more time on the ground on my butt than in the saddle.”

  Brit grinned. “I’ve ridden plenty of those horses. But it seems like you guys are bonded now.”

  “We definitely are,” I said. “I swear that he knows what I’m thinking sometimes.”

  “I feel the same about Apollo. We’re usually so in tune—I should have anticipated his reaction to the squirrel—it all just happened so fast. I’ve only been riding him for about six months, but it feels so much longer than that.”

  “Six months?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. “Are you serious? You guys look as if you’ve been practicing together for years.”

  “Thanks,” Brit said, blushing. “I’ve always ridden stable horses and my parents couldn’t afford to buy a horse. We’re leasing Apollo from a girl at my old stable who’s away at college.”

  “That’s cool that she let you lease him,” I said. “So do you get to lease him for as long as you want?”

  Brit looked at me, sadness in her dark brown eyes. “Probably only until she graduates. Or, if she decides she wants more money, she could sell him. Our lease was for a year, so I could lose Apollo in six months if she ends our deal then.”

  I stared at her. “No way. That couldn’t happen. You guys are perfect for each other. I’m sure if she ever decided to sell him that you could talk her into letting you keep leasing him. I mean, you made the YENT with him. And who knows, maybe she’ll grow out of horses. Some people do when they’re in college.”

  “Not me,” Brit said. “My dream is to take Apollo with me wherever I go. I’m crossing my fingers that I can buy him eventually.”

  I felt for her. It had to be a constant worry if she was going to lose her horse. I’d never had that with Charm.

  “I’d keep doing what you are by working hard and proving you both make the best team.”

  “That’s all I can do for right now,” Brit said. “I’m grateful every day to have this guy.” Apollo bounced, arching his neck as if he understood her. “Oh, don’t get a huge ego,” Brit told him, laughing.

  The trail narrowed and twisted, so we had to ride single file while we talked.

  “So we’ve covered how we got our horses,” I said. “What about family? Got any brothers or sisters?”

  “Two older sisters,” Brit said. “Ainslee’s a junior at MIT, and Rachelle’s a freshman at CalArts.”

  “Wow, they’re both so different. MIT and CalArts—that’s awesome. So you’ve got one sister who’s a math genius and one who loves art.”

  “Rachelle’s an amazing painter,” Brit said. “She’s always wanted to live in California. She almost died when she got accepted.”

  “I’m awful at math, and I can’t even finger paint,” I said. “So it’ll definitely never be either of those schools for me. I love to read, though. English is my favorite subject.”

  “I love books too,” Brit said. “History’s my favorite class. I love my teacher, and I’ve always liked history as long as I don’t have to memorize dates. I’ve got the worst memory with that!”

  “Meee too. I’m awful with dates.”

  We reached the meadow and had enough room to ride side by side. Apollo seemed much calmer once he was out of the woods an
d in an open field.

  “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” Brit asked.

  “Only child. That’s why I never learned how to share,” I joked.

  Brit laughed. “So that’s what your problem was when I asked to borrow a dandy brush the other day.”

  We bantered back and forth as the horses walked. It seemed to only take a couple of minutes for us to reach the fence that separated Canterwood property from a neighboring farm.

  “We’ve got to turn around here,” I said. “But we can go back a different way that’s out of the woods, mostly, and has a few places to jump. Interested?”

  “Um, yeah!” Brit turned Apollo in a circle away from the fence.

  “We’ve got tons of room to canter and let the horses stretch their legs after that workout. Charm doesn’t seem tired from the lesson, so I don’t think he’ll mind a few jumps.”

  “Same with Apollo. He’s good to go.”

  “Follow me!” I said. Leaning forward in the saddle, I ran my hands along Charm’s neck and gave him rein. Charm moved into a smooth canter that carried him with ease over the grass. I could hear Apollo behind us, and I guided Charm to the side of the meadow so he could canter alongside the stone wall. We moved fast past the gray stones with ivy growing over and around them.

  Up ahead, I spotted the first of three brush hedges. Apollo’s hoofbeats dropped slightly further behind Charm to give us plenty of room. It was common courtesy and safety in case something went wrong. But Charm was ready for the jumps. He cleared the first brush hedge with barely a pause and cantered for the next. We soared over the second jump, and I heard Apollo and Brit land. Charm pulled against the reins, wanting to go faster, but I held him at the same pace. He didn’t need to get into a bad habit of always rushing the last jump.

  Charm didn’t fight me again in the final stride to the hedge. He leaped up and cleared the jump. I knew his hooves didn’t even come close to touching the greenery.

  We kept cantering, and a few strides later Brit and Apollo were beside us.