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Authors: Jessica Burkhart

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8
TRAIL RIDING AND DAYDREAMING

“THIS IS THE BEST PART OF THE TRAIL,” CALLIE
said, looking over the hill.

Charm slowed and Callie pulled her gelding, Black Jack, next to me. Black Jack was a Morab—a black Arabian and Morgan mix.

The rolling Connecticut hills boasted a forest with millions of green leaves tinged with red and gold, hinting that autumn was near.

This part of the trail reminded me of the woods behind Briar Creek where Charm and I had gone every week. Charm loved exploring the dirt paths that snaked around Kim's property. If we went out early in the morning and waited by one of the field's edges, we sometimes found a herd of deer. The deer
seemed to like Charm; if I sat still, they'd stare at him for minutes.

Callie turned Black Jack as he picked his way down a rocky path littered with broken twigs and pinecones.

“How long have you been riding at Canterwood?” I asked.

Callie steadied Jack. “Since I started middle school in sixth grade. But if Canterwood would have had an elementary school, I would have so been here. I rode for the New England Saddle Club before this.”

“I've heard of them. Did you ever do an event in Worthington?” I asked.

“Two years ago.” Callie said. “The Sommersby Show. It was really exciting! I won first in dressage and second in cross-country and show jumping.”

“I was in the audience!” I said, stopping Charm from taking a bite of leaf.

I remembered that show well—it was the first time Kim had broached the idea of me applying to Canterwood. All of the Canterwood riders had worn matching green and gold jackets. And beside the trailers, Canterwood's hunter green tents were staked into the ground. They even had catered food inside their tents. It had all seemed so glamorous and fancy. After that, I
couldn't stop thinking about Canterwood.

“Heather was there too, I think, but that was before I knew her.” Black Jack flicked his ears backward at the sound of Callie's voice.

“She wants to make the advanced team more than anything,” I said.

Callie nodded. “We all do.”

“How does the advanced riding team work, exactly?” I asked.

“Well, each year riders in grades seven and up at the intermediate level are allowed to try out for the advanced team,” Callie said. “Only five riders from each grade make it. Sometimes no one makes it.”

“Are you excited to try out?” I asked.

“Definitely,” Callie said.

“So, do you think Heather's a shoo-in for the team?” When I said Heather's name, I swear, Charm shivered and shook his head.

“She's pretty good,” Callie said. “But Julia, Alison, and a bunch of other seventh-grade intermediate riders are good, too.”

“What about you? You're a great rider!” I said.

Callie tugged on Black Jack's reins to stop him from taking a bite of grass. “Riding is important. But
Mr. Conner wants riders with the total package—team skills, solid riding and good grades.”

“Good grades? Does the advanced team have a minimum GPA?” My stomach tightened when I thought about my biology quiz.

“Both the advanced team and the Youth Equestrian National Team both require a B average.”

“I didn't know that,” I said. The YENT was like a Junior Olympic–caliber team for riders in eighth grade and high school. If Charm and I made that team, we had a shot at the Olympics in college.

My mind drifted back to Heather. It reminded me of the fight Heather and her dad had on campus that first day. “How are Heather's grades?” I asked.

Callie seemed to consider the question. “Heather's smart—she just doesn't work hard at anything but riding. Her parents expect a lot of her. They want her to go Ivy. Plus, her brother's a genius. I heard he was the youngest kid ever to be accepted into Stanford Law.”

“Who worries about college in seventh grade?” I asked.

Callie tucked a strand of chocolate-colored hair behind her ear. “Everyone at Canterwood.”

“It was really different where I used to go to school,” I said.

“There's pressure on everyone to get good grades and pick the right extracurriculars and electives for college,” Callie continued. “Straight As aren't enough.”

“I hadn't even thought about that,” I admitted. “Just thinking about whether or not I have a shot at the advanced team has been enough stress for me!”

“If you work hard, you could make it.” Callie pulled Black Jack next to Charm as the trail widened. “I've seen your show jumping during practice. You're definitely one of the best stadium jumpers here.”

I smiled. There hadn't been many compliments on my riding since I'd been here. “Thanks! It's my favorite eventing class. Charm loves it, too.”

Now Charm and I had something to shoot for—the best stadium jumpers at Canterwood. Blue ribbons filled my head—I could almost hear the crowd's cheers. Scouts for the YENT would mob us with offers to come join them. Charm seemed to sense my daydream and tugged the reins to get me back to reality.

We continued our way down the dirt path, taking in the quiet. I thought about what Callie had said. Callie was one of the best riders I'd ever met. If
she
thought I was good, maybe I really did have a shot.

9
F IS FOR FRIDAY

T.G.I.F.

I'd survived my first week of classes. English was still my favorite and algebra wasn't too hard either.

Ms. Peterson had passed back our quizzes on Tuesday. My grade—a sixty. As in, F. I'd pretty much assumed I'd failed the quiz already, but it didn't stop me from nearly having a heart attack when I saw the letter on top of my paper. Thankfully, Ms. Peterson told us that quiz wouldn't count, but to be prepared for a quiz on Monday.

Thank God.

I was
never
going to get an F again. I planned to spend double the amount of time studying biology from now on.

By Wednesday, I no longer felt nervous about going
to the cafeteria by myself, and I was even too busy to feel homesick.

Paige caught up with me in the hallway after math. “Going back to the dorm?” she asked.

“I've got to check in with the guidance counselor and pick an elective class,” I told her.

“Have fun,” Paige said. “There are some good ones this semester.”

When I got to Ms. Utz's office, I signed in with the secretary and took a seat. A guy slid into the chair next to me.

“You here for Utz?” he asked.

For a second, I almost wasn't sure he was talking to me. “Yeah, I have to pick an elective,” I said, turning toward him.

Oh. My. God.

It was the Zac Efron cutie! Up close, he was even hotter. He had a tiny freckle on his chin and a braided leather bracelet on his right wrist.

He smiled, showing gorgeous teeth, and leaned a little closer. He could do whitening commercials, seriously. “Yeah, I already did my schedule, but she signed me up for honors algebra. Twice.”

“Yikes, I hope she doesn't do that to me!” Speaking
wasn't easy since all I could focus on was his gorgeous dark hair.

“I'm Jacob, by the way,” he said.

“I'm Silver. Sasha. Sasha Silver.” Ugh.

Jacob grinned. “You're new, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. Omigod! He'd noticed me? He knew that I was new? He'd noticed me enough to know that I was new?!

“Some words of advice,” Jacob said, leaning in and flicking his blue-green eyes toward the door. (
Swoon
). “Just watch Utz. She's kind of scary. Rumor is, she wrestles on the weekends.”

I laughed. Out of the corner of my eye, a large woman in hunter green clogs appeared in the doorway. “Sasha Silver?” she called.

Jacob gave me a smile before I—reluctantly—followed Ms. Utz into her office. A large, gold championship ring glittered on her finger. I wondered if Jacob was right about the wrestling.

“Sit,” she boomed, her voice reverberating off the walls in the tiny office. “So, how was your first week of classes at Canterwood?” She gave me a crooked smile and showed huge, square teeth.

“It was great,” I said.

“Good,” Ms. Utz said. “Now, you've already got riding as an extracurricular. That's enough for your first year. But you still need to pick an elective class. Here are your options.” She slid a piece of paper across the table to me.

I scanned the page. Web design, environmental science, art history, music appreciation, film.

“Film sounds perfect,” I said. “I love movies!”

“Film starts next Friday with Mr. Ramirez,” Ms. Utz said. “You're all set!”

I grabbed my papers and pulled out my chair.

“Have a good semester,” Ms. Utz called after me.

“Thank you,” I said back.

Outside her office, Jacob's chair was empty. I looked at my watch and gasped. I was five minutes late to my riding lesson!

 

When I pulled Charm into the outdoor arena, Mr. Conner held up a hand to stop Julia, Alison, Nicole, Heather, and Callie, who were circling him on horseback at a trot.

“Everyone, please dismount,” Mr. Conner said, tapping his toe in the dirt.

“Mr. Conner, I'm so sorry,” I said, pulling Charm behind me as we jogged over to him.

Mr. Conner crossed his arms. “I'm guessing no one told you about our new late policy.”

I shook my head.

“If a rider is late to a lesson, then the entire rest of the class must finish the remainder of the lesson from the ground, not the saddle.”

There was no way I could keep up with Charm. He had Thoroughbred blood!

“Please get behind Heather,” Mr. Conner said.

Great. Now she was going to hate me even more!

Charm and I halted a few steps behind Aristocrat. “Nice job, Silver,” she hissed.

“Sorry,” I mouthed.

Up ahead, Julia and Alison's faces were mashed into pouts. At least Callie and Nicole gave me sympathetic looks.

“Trot, please,” Mr. Conner called out, resuming the lesson.

“C'mon, Charm,” I said, giving him a gentle tug on the reins. I started jogging and Charm trotted beside me, careful not to bump me as we circled the arena. After our third circle, my forehead was dotted with sweat and the heels of my boots seemed to sink further into the ground.

“Walk,” Mr. Conner called. Two horses in front of me, Alison's Arabian pulled her forward. Sunstruck didn't want to slow down. She whispered to him and got him to a walk.

“Bring your horses to the center,” Mr. Conner said.

Julia sighed loudly and led Trix beside Charm. The mare was smaller than Charm, but she kept up. “You just
had
to be late,” she grumbled.

“Sorry,” I said, for what felt like the hundredth time.

Julia glared at me. “Don't do it again.”

Mr. Conner tapped his crop against his boot. “Let's end the lesson with bending exercises.” He motioned to Mike, one of the grooms, who watched from the fence. Mike hurried into the arena, carrying our halters and lead lines.

“Put on the halters, loosen your girths, and we'll get started,” Mr. Conner said. Each of us slipped off our horses' bridles and replaced them with a halter. Mike took our bridles and left the arena.

“Okay,” Mr. Conner continued. “We want the horses to be supple on both sides.”

“What do you mean?” Callie asked.

“Like people, most horses have a stronger side. It's like being right-or left-handed. We want to teach them to be
strong on both. Now, grab the lead line about six inches under the chin.”

We all did. Charm squeezed his eyes shut. The poor guy was sleepy!

“Since we're just loosening them up, we're only going to do this for five seconds on each side,” Mr. Conner said. “I'm going to hand each of you the end of your horse's tail and you're going to hold the lead line
and
the tail. Don't let go of either. The pressure on the tail and neck will make your horse bend and circle. Take small steps and let them circle for a few seconds and then release the tail.”

Mr. Conner stepped up to Nicole and nodded at her gelding, Wishful Thinking. “Let me show you,” he said. Nicole handed him the lead line and Mr. Conner took a handful of Wish's tail and kept a grip on the lead line. Wish started to bend and Mr. Conner let him circle twice before letting him go. “Now that was his good side,” Mr. Conner said. “Watch as we circle to the right.”

Wish took several clumsy steps in the right direction and moved slower than he had to the left. Mr. Conner released him and handed him back to Nicole.

“We'll go down the line,” Mr. Conner said. “I'll help each of you.”

I was last in line and when Mr. Conner got to me, Charm was almost snoring.

Mr. Conner eased Charm's tail into my hand and Charm took a step to the side.

“Good,” Mr. Conner said. “A little more.”

“You can do it, boy,” I whispered to Charm. He took a few more steps and then I let go of his tail. Mr. Conner handed it to me again from the other side and Charm took a hesitant step. “It's okay,” I said. “C'mon.” Charm bent to the pressure on his neck and turned.

“All right, good!” Mr. Conner said. “Charm's almost smooth on both sides. Nice job, everyone.”

I rubbed Charm's chin. “Hear that, boy? Smooth on both sides.”

He nudged me and closed his eyes. “All right,” I said, “let's go take a nap.”

10
WHO'S AFRAID OF A LITTLE FRIENDLY COMPETITION
?

IT WAS A WARM THURSDAY AFTERNOON AND
Mr. Conner was supervising our outdoor jumping. Charm and I were finally fitting in after almost two weeks at Canterwood. It was nonstop practice for the Connecticut State Horse Show on the first weekend of October. Since testing for the advanced team wasn't until mid-November, the show was my first priority.

Charm cantered in a wide circle as we headed toward the hogsback jump. The three-foot fence loomed in front of us. Heather cantered alongside me on Aristocrat. She edged Aristocrat over and our boots almost brushed together. With a snort, Charm weaved over to the left.

“What are you doing?” I glared at her while trying to keep Charm in a straight line.

“Practicing,” Heather called back. She smirked, veering Aristocrat closer. “You do know what practice is, don't you?” Her voice was barely audible over the quick thud of hoofbeats. I ignored Heather and edged closer. She watched me with narrowed eyes, trying to see if I would back out or force her off the fence. The jump looked as if it grew taller with each step Charm took. Seconds before Charm reached the jump, I sat deep in the saddle and pulled back on the reins. He tossed his head and snorted.

“We'll get the next one,” I soothed, rubbing his taunt neck.

Heather and Aristocrat surged past us and cleared the jump. She swung him around in a sharp circle to face us. A cloud of dust poofed under his hooves.

“What was that?” I asked, growing more and more furious with each failed attempt at a yoga breath.

“I took my jump,” Heather said, keeping Aristocrat's head high in the air.

Charm pawed the ground. “Charm could have been hurt. You could have hit us!”

“Please.” Heather rolled her eyes. “I was in control. Nothing happened.”

“But it could have.” Charm tensed under me.

“I didn't see you pull up immediately and—” Heather
closed her mouth when Mr. Conner strode between us. Goosebumps covered my arm. Heather had one thing right—I should have stopped Charm the second she started the game of chicken.

Mr. Conner's hands were balled into fists. He looked at me and then back at Heather. “What was that?” His face was bright red. “Someone explain this to me, now.”

Callie was working on Jack's extension in the next ring, but when she heard Mr. Conner, she turned and gave me a sympathetic look.

Heather dropped the reins and crossed her arms. “Mr. Conner, we accidentally bumped together,” she said.

“How big a fool do you think I am?”

“It really was an accident,” I said. Mr. Conner turned away from me to face Heather. She gave him her trademark what-I'm-an-angel smile.

“And you?” he asked.

“Well, I didn't want to say anything before, but Sasha really is a dangerous rider. I was heading for the jump, Mr. Conner, and Sasha deliberately rammed into me. She could have injured us.”

I couldn't believe it! My mouth dropped open. Mr. Conner turned to me. When his back was to Heather, she caught my eye and smirked.

“Mr. Conner,” I said. “It wasn't like that at all.”

“Then tell me what it was like,” he said. His stern voice made me shiver in my warm jacket.

“Heather ran into us when we headed for the jump.” With every word I spoke, I could feel Heather's eyes burning into me. “But I should have pulled up sooner.”

Mr. Conner sighed. “Get your story straight, girls. I don't know who started this little rivalry and frankly, I don't care. You both could have been injured. Charm and Aristocrat could have torn a ligament or worse—broken a leg. Cool down your horses and put them away. Once they're back in their stalls, I want you both in my office.”

I kicked Charm into a trot and headed for his stall. We walked around for ten minutes before I brushed him and put him away. Charm stepped into his stall and took a drink. I dragged my feet down the aisle, and with one last glance at Charm, who was still drinking, shuffled to Mr. Conner's office.

Heather stood outside his door. “You know he'll take my word over yours,” she whispered.

Maybe Heather was right. I'd done nothing but mess up in front of Mr. Conner. But no matter what she said, I would never have intentionally put Charm or Aristocrat in danger.

“Are you gonna knock on the door or what?” Heather asked.

“Sure, if you can't even knock on a door without help, I'll do it for you,” I said, surprising myself with my own courage.

I rapped at the door, but I could feel Heather's eyes growing wide beside me.

“Come in,” Mr. Conner said.

Heather pushed in front of me and took the only chair. I stood beside her and clenched my hands.

“It appears that we have a serious safety issue,” Mr. Conner started. “You both displayed very questionable behavior out there today.” Mr. Conner shook his head. “I don't care how long you've been here, whether you're new or not. I'm disappointed in both of you.”

“Sasha has been deliberately provoking me,” Heather said. “She's trying to secure her spot on the advanced team by baiting me. I'm not sure if I can ride with her anymore.”

“Being on a team, Ms. Fox, means being part of the group.” Mr. Conner's tone was firm. He rubbed his hand across his chin and his large gold wristwatch flashed in the sunlight streaming inside his office window. “If you want to be part of the Canterwood riding team, you will
do just that—be a part of the team. Is that going to be a problem?”

Heather sunk low in her seat. “No, sir, that's not a problem.”

“This won't happen again,” I offered.

“Good. And to ensure that it
doesn't
, you two are going to be spending more time together. Saturday morning. Seven o'clock. You will both be here, mucking stalls.” He looked back down at his desk and picked up an envelope. “And remember that all of this will be taken into account when I decide who gets a seat on the advanced team. You're excused.”

Heather pushed her chair back and tiptoed out the door.

I raced to Charm's stall, leaving her behind.

I barely made it inside the stall before the tears started. “I'm so sorry, Charm,” I whispered to him. He looked at me, his soft eyelashes fluttering, and nudged me with his velvety muzzle. “You could have gotten hurt today. And it would have been all my fault. We should have backed off the second Heather headed for the jump.” I wrapped my arms around Charm's strong neck and rested my head against him. He leaned into me and, in his own way, hugged me back.

“Sasha?” Callie's head poked over the stall door. She
came into the stall and stroked Charm's neck. “Heather headed right for you,” she assured me. “All you could do was pull him up.”

I shook my head. “I shouldn't have let him go that far. Something just came over me and I didn't want to let her take the fence.”

“But you stopped,” Callie said. “Heather didn't. It wasn't your fault.”

“Charm is okay and that's all that matters,” I conceded, wiping tears away with the back of my hand.

“C'mon, let's go,” Callie said. “I'll buy you a smoothie.”

I gave Charm one last good-bye pat and secured the door. Callie and I linked arms and headed away from the stables.

After the afternoon I'd had, I was glad to have a friend like Callie to leave with. No matter what the Trio said to me, I had Charm, Callie, and Paige to remind me why I came to Canterwood in the first place. Anyway, I wasn't about to let anyone bully me into leaving.

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