“I feel exactly the same way. So, in the arena, we’re teammates.”
I smiled. This was going waaay better than I’d expected, “Definitely.”
“But not friends,” Callie said.
She turned Jack away and they moved at a smooth trot down the arena.
I stared after her, almost not able to digest how fast our conversation had gone wrong. I knew Callie and I weren’t friends, but to hear her say it again, to my face, stung.
A lot.
You can’t let this throw you off, I told myself. You were prepared for this.
But no matter how much I’d tried to ready myself, it still hurt.
I tapped my boots gently against Charm’s sides, asking him to trot. We followed behind Apollo and kept our distance from Callie. I didn’t want to get to close to her and have her think I was being “friendly” or anything.
No one said a word while we finished our warm-up. Never a second late, Mr. Conner walked into the arena on time.
“Hi, girls,” he said. He turned to Callie. “Welcome to your first official YENT practice. We’re all glad to have you here.”
Callie smiled. “Thank you. I’m really excited about the team.”
Mr. Conner smoothed his shirt. “Before we get started, I wanted to take a brief moment to remind you of our priorities as riders. You’re all here to learn about horses—from in-depth care to basic medical training—and yes, you’re on this team to become stronger riders. When we begin training for the Huntington Classic, I don’t want any of you to forget that. We will not be a team that only focuses on shows. There are many more important aspects to your careers as riders.”
Heather, Callie, Brit, and I all nodded. That had been Mr. Conner’s message since the day I’d started at Canterwood—he’d never wanted us to become riders who didn’t muck our horses’ stalls, didn’t care about our horses’ health, or obsessed over competition alone.
And each of us had been too focused on showing before. I’d moved past that phase—I’d realized the hard way that if, like Mr. Conner said, I wanted this to be my career, I couldn’t make competing my entire life. Once I’d made that choice and had started to find the balance with school, boys, and friends, I’d been happier and a better rider.
“So, let’s get started,” Mr. Conner said. “If everyone’s warmed up, I want to focus on jumping for this lesson.”
Yes! I said to myself.
“During tryouts, I noticed there are a few minor issues with timing,” Mr. Conner said. “It’s good to be aware of and it’s something we can work on—all of us.”
Charm and I definitely had issues with that sometimes. During most of our rides, I still had to do a basic move and count strides in my head before we reached a jump. By now, I should have been able to jump without counting strides like a beginner.
“Mike and Doug have assembled a jump course that I want each of you to work over,” Mr. Conner said. “You’ll each take turns and I want you to do something you learned in beginning riding lessons.”
We all looked at each other before turning back to Mr. Conner.
“I want you to count the strides out loud,” he said. “I know you’re probably thinking that I’m telling you to talk to your horses when riding. But this is an exception.”
I liked this idea.
“While you count out loud,” Mr. Conner continued. “I’ll be taking notes and writing it down if you call out the stride at the wrong time.”
Maybe I didn’t like this idea so much now.
I didn’t want anyone to hear me counting out loud and making mistakes. It wasn’t as if anyone—like Callie—would say anything out loud about my ride, but I’d be wondering the entire time what she’d be thinking.
“Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “I’d like you and Charm to go first.”
I gulped.
“Okay,” I said, in that squeaky tone I hated.
“The course is straightforward and, as part of our exercise, I don’t want you to walk it first. All of the jumps are not any higher than anything you’ve jumped previously. It’s more about timing than about difficulty. Don’t rush, just take your time and remember that I want to hear your counting.”
I nodded and readied myself in the saddle. Mr. Conner’s comment about not rushing made me feel as if I could take a second to ready myself. I made sure the stirrups were on the balls of my feet. Then I adjusted the reins in my hands. The extra seconds made me feel more comfortable and ready to tackle the ten jumps.
“I’m ready,” I said.
And I meant it. Charm could do this.
Mr. Conner stepped to the side of the arena and the rest of the horses and riders followed him. I blocked out everyone watching me. After enough lessons and shows, I was finally able to forget that people, even Callie, were watching.
I started Charm at a trot, keeping him away from the jumps. I let him into a canter and took him through two circles, making sure he was settled, before allowing him to move toward the first jump. With an even stride, and both ears flicking back at me, Charm glided toward the first red and white striped vertical that wasn’t higher than three feet—an easy start to our ride.
In that second, I knew I’d done the right thing with the circles and with settling him before we’d started. We were both less nervous and more comfortable—his body language said it all.
“Start counting,” Mr. Conner reminded me.
Oops.
“Seven,” I said.
“Louder,” Mr. Conner called. “I want to hear you, Sasha. You won’t throw off Charm, don’t worry. He’s used to noise from the crowds at shows.”
“Six,” I said, raising my voice.
“Good,” Mr. Conner said.
“Five, four, three, two,” I said. I started to prepare myself for the jump.
“One, now!” The last word came out louder than anything I’d said.
At the right moment, Charm gathered himself, rocked back on his haunches and prepared to clear the jump. I lifted slightly out of the saddle and eased my hands a few inches forward along his neck. Charm flew over the vertical, landing with what I was sure were several inches behind us—his back hooves not even coming close to hitting the rail.
Charm hadn’t even reacted to my counting. I’d been sort of worried that my voice would distract him, but he was such a calm horse—he didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
“Excellent,” Mr. Conner called. “Keep it up!”
The next vertical, white with gold stripes that sparkled in the sunlight, was higher than the first by a couple of inches.
“Four, three, two, one, now!” I counted aloud.
Charm pushed off from the ground, recognizing the extra height in this jump. He was the right distance from the rails and, again, we were in no danger of knocking the rail.
We landed safely on the other side and I was in the zone—completely focused and not even aware of anything but Charm and the eight obstacles we had left to go.
I counted strides to the double oxer with faux flower boxes on the sides and the yellow flowers didn’t even catch Charm’s attention.
We made our way over two more verticals, both a striking cobalt blue, that were spaced close together, and I forgot that I was counting aloud. This exercise was one of my favorites, and probably the most beneficial to me as a rider. I knew I’d be doing it on my own, too.
Charm and I started a sweeping half turn around the arena. His canter was flowing and smooth. I sat easily to his smooth stride—summers of riding bareback through the pastures had paid off.
We finished the circle and the extra time gave us room for the double oxer we were approaching. By a notch, I let Charm increase his speed to get enough room to make it over the spread. On either side of the oxer, white trellises had fake ivy weaving in and out.
“Five,” I said. “Four, three, two, one, now!”
On now, Charm moved back on his haunches and he tucked his knees under his body. The extra speed gave
him enough of a boost to make it over the spread.
Oxers were one of my fave jumps. There was no other feeling like the suspension in the air. Clichéd or not, it really did feel like flying.
The jump ended so fast—it was too much fun! Charm landed with a soft thud on the other side and I let him keep up his speed as he made his way toward the next vertical. This one had plastic board with orange swirls on the sides. The swirls, meant to throw off the horse, didn’t even cause Charm to pause.
We cleared the vertical without a problem, trying not to get too excited, I realized we only had two jumps left—a faux stone wall and a final vertical.
The faux brick stone wall wasn’t too high. I counted the strides and Charm leapt the wall without a problem. He didn’t know the wall was fake, but he trusted me to get him over the “bricks” safely.
We landed and I cheered in my head. One more left!
“Four, three, two, one, now!” I counted. I knew I’d made a mistake the second I lifted out of the saddle a half second too early.
Charm, always eager to rush the last jump, left the ground on “one” instead of “now” and he wasn’t ready. I’d caused him to leave too late.
It was no surprise when I heard the click of Charm’s hooves against the top railing. He landed and it tumbled behind us, the plastic piping thudding against the ground.
I frowned with disappointment, but patted Charm’s neck. He’d done an amazing job—listening to everything I’d told him. The final jump had been my mistake—I knew about his history with rushing final fences and I’d let my enthusiasm about the end of the ride cost us a knocked rail.
I let him canter for a few more strides, then slowed him to a trot before turning him back to Mr. Conner and the rest of the YENT team.
Mr. Conner finished making final notes on his clipboard, his black Bic pressing into the paper before he looked up at me.
“What did you think about counting aloud?” he asked.
“It was really helpful,” I said. “I still do it in my head and to hear myself count out loud was helpful.”
“Why was it helpful?” Mr. Conner asked.
I paused, then decided the only way to help myself was to be honest. “Because it made me feel less embarrassed about being on the YENT and still counting strides in my head.”
“Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “This,” and his gestured around the arena with his hand, “is an embarrassment free-zone. You’re all here learning together. And, specifically to the issue of you feeling as though you shouldn’t be counting strides, many riders at higher levels than you still count in their heads. You’re a talented jumper and I want you to feel comfortable using whatever method works for you.”
“Thank you,” I said. I finally glanced at the other girls. Callie wasn’t smirking or looking happy about my mistake. Heather had her ever-present you’ll do better next time or else look, which was oddly comforting. Brit, smiling, mouthed, good job.
Thanks, I mouthed back before looking at Mr. Conner.
Mr. Conner smiled at me. “The counting to yourself has obviously worked. I didn’t see any instances of timing problems except for the final jump, which you’re aware of. We know Charm has a history of rushing jumps.”
“It was my fault,” I said. “I got excited that there was only one jump left. My brain knew about Charm’s history with final jumps, but I let my own feelings get in the way. He was already primed to go early and I let him.”
“That’s one issue that you’ll both continue to work on,” Mr. Conner said. “Charm responds well to you, Sasha, so I don’t foresee this becoming a major issue. If, in the future, Charm stops listening and rushes no matter how much we’ve worked with him, we’ll start on a new strategy. Okay?”
“That sounds great,” I said. “Thank you.”
Mr. Conner glanced over to Callie. “Ready?”
Callie nodded. “Ready.”
By the tone of her voice, I knew this was going to be a ride that would captivate everyone’s attention. Callie was on.
And I was right.
Callie counted out the timing before the ten jumps and didn’t miss a stride. She rode as if she were testing for the YENT.
I glanced at Brit and, I swear, ESP passed between us. I wished I’d been able to ride with my BlackBerry because Brit and I needed a BBM convo right N-O-W.
Mr. Conner discussed Callie’s ride, pointing out a mistake I hadn’t even seen.
Then Heather rode. She and Aristocrat swept around the course, both horse and rider in unison. I tried to take in every bit of what Heather was doing from the way she timed the jumps to how Aristocrat responded to her cues. If I had to choose among Callie, Brit, or Heather as the best rider—I couldn’t.
And, in that moment, reality hit me.
Each rider had been chosen because no one was supposed to be able to distinguish who was better. From my place atop Charm’s back, I realized this was the final YENT team.
Callie.
Brit.
Heather.
And me.
After Brit had finished her ride, which only solicited a couple of comments from Mr. Conner, he talked to us as a group about how we’d done. Even though I’d rushed the final jump, I was still proud of my ride.
THE JACOB EFFECT
“PUT IT IN PERSPECTIVE,” BRIT SAID AS WE walked out of the arena together. “You knocked one rail after being so nervous. For your first YENT practice with Callie, you did an amazing job.”
“Thanks,” I said. “That means a lot. Your ride was fantastic, Brit.”
Brit smiled, ducking her head a little. “Thanks, Sash. Apollo is a great horse. He makes everything easy.”
“He’s a fantastic horse,” I said. “His—”
I stopped midsentence.
“Sash?”
Brit followed my gaze. Across the lawn, Eric and Jacob stood just feet apart.
Talking.
“Omigodomigod!” I whispered to Brit. “There’s absolutely no way this is good. Jacob and Eric HATE each other! Hate! What could they possibly be meeting about that isn’t going to end with campus security breaking up a fight?”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Brit said. “They might have bonded in a class or during a sport or something.”
I rubbed my forehead so hard, I was sure all of my makeup had come off. Brit pulled down my hand.
“Maybe they’re talking about football?” Brit offered.
“Eric hates football!”
“Um, maybe they’re talking about horses?”
“Jacob is terrified of horses!”
“School, then,” Brit said. “They’ve got to have something in common with classes or something.”
I saw Jacob shift on his heels and I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I have to go over there,” I said.
“Sash—” Brit started to reach for my arm, but there wasn’t any need. I stopped, watching Jacob and Eric fist bump (such a dude thing ). Then they walked away from each other.
That was it for me.
“Meet you in our room?” I asked Brit.
“See you there,” she said.
I walked across the courtyard toward Jacob.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “What’s going on? You never talk to Eric.”
Jacob took my hand. “Everything is totally fine, Sash. I promise. Let’s sit for a second.”
Still holding Jacob’s hand, I followed him over to a wooden bench a few feet off the sidewalk.
My knees bounced when we sat down. I couldn’t imagine what he had to talk to Eric about.
“I got Eric’s e-mail from the school directory,” Jacob said.
“Um, why?”
Jacob put his hand on my knee, calming my bouncing. “I needed to apologize to him. He … actually is a decent guy and I was wrong at your party. Eric deserved to hear an explanation from me.”
“And he agreed to meet you right away?” I asked.
Jacob nodded. “He e-mailed me bac
k a couple of hours later saying he would meet me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to make sure he’d show,” Jacob said. “I didn’t want you to get excited about the possibility of us getting together and then have something go wrong during our talk.”
“I would have done the same. What did he say?”
Jacob rubbed my palm. “At first, he just listened. After I talked, he said he appreciated me coming to him and then said if I ever hurt you, there would be a problem.”
“And what did you say?” I rubbed my other hand on my breeches.
“That there would never be a problem because I’d never hurt you,” Jacob said. I’d never seen such intensity in his eyes.
“You don’t have to tell me everything, but I just want to know … how did things end?”
Jacob ran his thumb across my cheek. When his hand was back in my lap, it felt as if there was still a warm spot from where he’d touched me.
“You can ask me anything you want, Sasha. We agreed that the past was just that and it was time to move forward. It’s a waste of our time and energy to avoid and antagonize each other.”
“Really? That’s great!” If I tried to stand now, I felt as if I’d collapse into the ground. This was beyond a major relief in my life. Just having Jacob and Eric agree to coexist was a huge deal that I never expected.
I scooted closer on the bench, giving Jacob a quick kiss. “Thank you so much, Jacob. You have no idea how much stress this takes off me. I know it couldn’t have been easy to talk to him like that. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”
And it was. Eric and Jacob had been enemies, with understandable reasons, but the fact that they were able to come to an agreement not to fight meant so much.”
“I’d do anything to go back and fix what I did,” Jacob said. “And talking to Eric was just the beginning.”
I stared at him, tilting my head. “What does that mean?”
“Eric asked me for a favor,” Jacob said. “He asked me for help.”
“Help? With what?”
“Eric told me he knew that I’m good at math,” Jacob said. “He wondered if, as part of our moving forward, if I’d tutor him for a while just to get him on track. He said his grade in the class was so low that he was in danger going on academic probation.”
Scandals, Rumors, Lies Page 8