“Yeah, Lis’, where were you today?” Carole asked.
Fighting to hold back tears, Lisa blurted out, “You guys, it’s serious.”
In their own rooms, Carole and Stevie listened with extra attention. From the tone of Lisa’s voice, they could tell that she wasn’t in the mood for the usual joking banter the three of them got into on the telephone. “Lisa, what is it?” Carole asked.
“I’m going to Wentworth,” Lisa said, dropping the bomb the only way she knew how. “I leave in two weeks.”
There was a long, long silence. Stevie thought for a second that maybe Lisa was putting them on, but she knew practical jokes weren’t Lisa’s style. Besides, her voice sounded too shaky for her to be making it up.
“You mean your parents are sending you?” Carole asked. She didn’t want to come right out and ask about the money, but she was confused. Lisa had said, and Stevie had confirmed, that her parents would never be able to afford the Wentworth tuition.
“Yes, they’re sending me, but they don’t have to pay. I—I got a scholarship,” Lisa said.
“A scholarship!” Stevie exclaimed, horrified. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? They’d be dying to give a scholarship to someone like you, Lisa. But that doesn’t mean you have to take it, you know.”
“It does as far as my parents are concerned,” Lisa said, hearing an edge creep into her voice.
“Why? Can’t you talk to them?” Stevie asked.
“Stevie …,” Carole began, and stopped.
“What?” Stevie said, sounding annoyed. “Look, Lisa, I know it’s hard for you to talk to your mom, but this isn’t just a haircut. This is boarding school! You can’t just let your parents send you to Horror High with a bunch of Veronica types.”
To her surprise, Lisa felt a flash of anger. All of a sudden she wasn’t so thrilled to hear Stevie mocking Wentworth.
Stevie was ranting, “To think that someone like you could go to that no-good, worthless—”
“Okay, Stevie, I get the point,” Lisa broke in. “But the fact is I’m going there. Maybe it won’t be so bad, all right?”
Not so bad? Stevie thought. Is Lisa out of her mind? “I just meant—”
“Look, I know what you meant. I have to go now, anyway. I have to finish my homework,” Lisa said coldly.
Searching for something she could say to cheer Lisa up, Carole asked, “Will you be at Pine Hollow tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Lisa said. With hardly a good-bye, she hung up.
Carole and Stevie stayed on the line to talk, but neither of them had much to say. It was the most shocking news they’d ever had. They had to absorb it before they could make any sense of it. “See you tomorrow?” Carole asked quietly.
“Yeah, see you then,” Stevie said. After she put the receiver down, she sat at her desk, staring into space. Lisa was going to boarding school. It didn’t seem possible, but it was. Mrs. Atwood was finally going to have Lisa where she wanted her: climbing the social ladder. Stevie couldn’t believe how dumb she’d been not to think of the possibility of Lisa’s getting a scholarship. There were a number of students at Fenton Hall on scholarship. And naturally, Lisa was a prime candidate. But realizing her own mistake hadn’t been the most disturbing part of the conversation for Stevie. What troubled her most was the way Lisa had seemed to change her mind about Wentworth. A part of Stevie realized that she had hurt Lisa’s feelings by insulting the school, but a part of her just didn’t care. Shouldn’t Lisa know the truth about the school? That she was way too good for it? That going there would be the biggest mistake of her life?
LISA WENT THROUGH the next day of school in a daze. She couldn’t concentrate on any of her subjects. In third-period math, her teacher called on her to demonstrate a simple problem for the class. Lisa couldn’t do it. She stood at the blackboard with a piece of chalk in her hand, unable to remember how to begin. Finally she looked up at Mr. Ramirez, her eyes bright with tears. “I don’t know how to do it,” she said in a choked voice.
Mr. Ramirez looked at her with concern. “Have you been getting enough sleep, Lisa?” he asked quietly. “You look tired.”
“That must be it,” Lisa said. She didn’t want to tell Mr. Ramirez why a math problem was making her so upset. Besides, it was true that she had hardly slept at all the night before. Even though she’d followed her mother’s advice to go to bed early, she had tossed and turned for hours.
“Do you want to go lie down somewhere?” Mr. Ramirez asked.
Lisa shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
“All right, then. Go ahead and take your seat. Class is almost over anyway,” Mr. Ramirez said. “Now,” he continued in a louder voice, “who wants to tell me how to multiply two unknowns when …”
Lisa slunk back to her seat, feeling the class’s curious eyes on her. She knew they were wondering why she hadn’t been able to do the problem. After class, a few people asked her if she was okay. Lisa nodded. She couldn’t bring herself to tell them anything. At breakfast her mother had reminded her to give her teachers the news right away. That way they could begin processing her transfer forms. But after English and French and now math, Lisa still hadn’t said a word to anyone. She knew that if she started to talk, she would start to cry.
Lisa was so caught up in her own troubled thoughts that she almost didn’t see Carole coming down the hall toward her.
“Lisa! Lisa, hey!” Carole called, hurrying over, her face a mask of worry. The girls often ran into one another at school, even though Lisa was in the grade above Carole.
Lisa looked up, glad to see the only person at school who knew her secret. “Hi, Carole,” she said.
“Hi,” Carole said. Then she asked timidly, “So, nothing has changed since last night?”
Lisa looked down at her books. “Nope. I’m still going to Wentworth.”
“And you can’t say anything to your mother about how you really feel?” Carole asked. She knew she was taking a chance of upsetting Lisa even more. But in her heart of hearts, she believed that Stevie was right—that Lisa’s only chance was to say something, even if it meant letting her mother down.
Lisa shook her head. “You should see how excited she is, Carole. This morning, as I was getting ready for school, some woman from the Garden Club called. She told my mother she had heard that I was applying to Wentworth. Her daughter goes there, and she wanted to know if I’d been accepted and what my plans were.”
“That’s so rude!” Carole said, disgusted that anyone would stoop so low as to actually call the Atwoods to see if Lisa had gotten into Wentworth.
“I know. But naturally my mother was thrilled to get the call. She went on and on about how much I loved the school. She even told the woman about my scholarship,” Lisa said.
“It is a big honor,” Carole said.
Before Lisa could reply, the bell for the next class rang. It was Lisa’s lunch period, but Carole had social studies and had to run. “Look, I’ll see you at the barn, okay?” Carole said. She felt bad that she couldn’t skip her class and stay with Lisa.
“Sure—and don’t worry, Carole. I’ll be fine,” Lisa said, trying to sound brave. She headed to the cafeteria, got her lunch, and sat down by herself, praying that nobody would join her. She couldn’t bear the thought of having to make conversation with anyone. It was strange to think that in a couple of weeks, she would be eating in the Wentworth cafeteria. Who would she talk to then? Would any of the girls become her friends? Maybe there were other scholarship students and they would all eat lunch together. Then again, maybe she was the only one. Her mother had told her about all the social opportunities at Wentworth. But what kind of opportunities would there be if Lisa never made friends?
For the tenth time that day, Lisa felt like crying. She felt a tear well up in her eye and start to trickle down her cheek. But as soon as she began to cry, she stopped herself. She had to quit feeling sorry for herself, just to get through the day. Moping about
Wentworth wasn’t going to do her any good. Maybe she could try looking on the bright side. Maybe Carole and her mother were right. It was a big honor to go to such a prestigious school on a full scholarship. She should be grateful for all her mother had done to get her in.
It was no surprise that Stevie couldn’t understand. It was easy for her to put Wentworth down. Her parents had plenty of money. But Lisa’s mother wanted her daughter to have more than she’d had. She thought Wentworth would set Lisa on the road to success.
The more Lisa thought about what Stevie had said, the angrier she got. Maybe Stevie was just jealous. Everybody knew that Wentworth had one of the nicest riding facilities in Virginia. Maybe it would be fun to go there. Maybe Stevie had wanted to go there and her parents had said no. A little voice inside Lisa told her she wasn’t being honest with herself, but she ignored it. She hadn’t let herself get angry at anyone for a long time. And in a way, getting mad felt better than letting herself be miserable.
TUESDAY AFTERNOONS The Saddle Club and a few other students, including Veronica, had a riding lesson with Max. Stevie, Lisa, and Carole liked to get their horses ready a little early so that they could talk while they warmed up together. Once the lesson started, Max was a stickler for no talking. But this Tuesday, the three of them found themselves lingering instead of hurrying while they groomed Belle, Prancer, and Starlight. The truth was, none of them wanted to talk because none of them knew what to say. There was still tension between Lisa and Stevie from the night before. And Carole wasn’t sure if she should mention it or pretend it didn’t exist. When it came to people, Carole could never figure them out. Horses were so much easier to understand.
When the three of them went to the tack room to get their saddles and bridles, the silence was awkward.
“Hey, did you hear that Veronica volunteered to clean my tack yesterday?” Stevie asked, trying to make conversation.
Carole chuckled, relieved at the safe topic. “You’ve got to put a stop to it, Stevie, unless you’re really considering her for the job.”
“Oh, I will—just as soon as she finishes the tack. She still has to do the bridle,” Stevie said with a laugh. She stole a glance at Lisa to see if she would smile, but Lisa’s face was grim. Stevie and Carole exchanged worried glances. They knew Lisa was upset. What they didn’t know was how to get her to talk to them.
Stevie decided to try the direct route. “Lisa?” she said. “I’m sorry for what I said about Wentworth. I thought you thought the same thing, or else I wouldn’t have—”
“Well, for a change, maybe you should think about what you say before you say it,” Lisa snapped, her face turning red.
“But you said you didn’t like it, either,” Stevie said in a small voice that didn’t sound anything like her own.
“Maybe you should have realized that my feelings have changed now that I’m going to go to school there,” Lisa retorted.
“But—but—do you really want to go there?” Stevie said in a rush. She knew she was pushing it by asking that question yet again, but she just had to. She couldn’t sit back and pretend that if Lisa went to Wentworth, everything would be all right.
Lisa looked from Stevie to Carole, her face threatening to crumple. She was about to reply when the door swung open and Veronica walked in.
“Lisa!” Veronica said in a gushy voice. “I heard the great news. So you’re going to be a Wentworth girl. Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Lisa muttered.
“Listen,” Veronica went on, oblivious to the tense atmosphere she’d walked in on, “I was thinking it would be fun for you and my friend Ashley Briggs to get to know one another. She’s coming to visit me next weekend, so I’ll ask my mother if I can have you over for dinner.”
Stevie looked scornfully at Veronica. It made her sick to see Veronica acting nice toward Lisa just because of Wentworth. “Why are you so friendly all of a sudden?” she demanded. “Is it because Lisa’s going to a snobby boarding school—”
“Why should you care?” Veronica snapped.
“Because I care about my friends.” Stevie retorted. “Unlike you, Veronica, I don’t choose my friends based on what school they go to. So don’t bother trying to be all nice to Lisa. Because she can see right through your little—”
“Stevie!” Lisa cried. “Would you mind staying out of it?”
Stevie turned. She stared at Lisa, mouth open, for several seconds. Without another word she grabbed her saddle, bridle, and hard hat and stormed out of the tack room.
“Boy, with friends like that, who needs enemies?” Veronica said. “Now, Lisa—”
“Just leave me alone! Leave me alone!” Lisa wailed. She fled the room as fast as Stevie had.
“Well, excu-u-use me,” Veronica said.
A few seconds later Stevie poked her head back in. “By the way, Veronica, I wouldn’t make you cochair of the dance committee if my life depended on it,” she said.
“Good!” Veronica spat back. “Because I wouldn’t take it if my life depended on it!”
The door slammed for the third time. Carole glowered at Veronica but said nothing. It was all too much to comprehend—better to concentrate on horses for an hour and figure out the human mess later. The lesson started in five minutes; at this point, they were going to be late. And any second now, Max was going to come in and give them a harsh lecture for making so much noise in the barn. It was a miracle that he hadn’t already.
TRYING TO CHOKE back her tears, Lisa managed to get Prancer tacked up. Her fingers fumbled with the billet straps on the girth, then with the bit, but finally Prancer was ready. Lisa led her out and got on. Once she was mounted, however, she couldn’t face going to the lesson. She didn’t even care about the questions Max would ask when she failed to show up. She knew it would be no use trying to learn anything.
Hardly thinking, she spurred Prancer toward the trail. She trotted and cantered until they were a good distance from Pine Hollow. Then she slowed Prancer to a walk and gave her a long rein. Slouched in the saddle, she let the mare loaf along, not even stopping her from grabbing bites of grass and leaves. And finally, out on the trail where no one could hear her, Lisa let herself cry. She cried and cried, thinking back over the past twenty-four hours. Prancer turned her head around and nudged Lisa’s stirrup to ask what was wrong. That only made Lisa cry harder, realizing that she wouldn’t be able to take Prancer with her to Wentworth. Prancer wasn’t hers, and anyway her parents would never be able to afford the board. It probably cost half of their salaries.
“I wonder who will ride you when I’m gone,” Lisa said, stroking Prancer’s chestnut neck. “If only they had scholarships for horses, too. Then you could come with me and it wouldn’t be so bad. I could tell you about the other girls, and you could tell me about the other horses.…”
Lisa prolonged the ride, letting Prancer wander from meadow to meadow. Not until it started to get dark did she turn back toward the stable. She wondered how many more rides she would have before she left. Maybe it would be better not to come anymore. Dragging out the good-bye would only make things harder. Sure, she could come back and visit, but it would never be the same. In fact, it already felt different. With the way things were between her and Stevie, it felt as if The Saddle Club had broken up. And that was by far the blackest part of it all.
THE PARENTS OF The Saddle Club almost never allowed sleepovers on school nights. They agreed that the girls saw plenty of one another at Pine Hollow, on the weekends, and during the trips they often took together. So Sunday through Thursday nights the three of them were expected to stay in, do their homework, and go to bed at a reasonable time. But every once in a while, a circumstance arose that was dire enough for the girls to convince their parents that they absolutely had to have a weeknight sleepover. When Lisa disappeared on Prancer instead of coming to the lesson, Stevie and Carole agreed that this was one of those nights. They simply had to have a two-thirds meeting of The Saddle Club. Right away. No matter what it t
ook. So after two anxious phone calls and some hasty arrangements between Colonel Hanson and Mr. and Mrs. Lake, Carole found herself at the Lakes’ for the evening.
She and Stevie wasted no time. They went directly up to Stevie’s room to put their heads together and find a way of saving Lisa from Wentworth Manor. They felt a little guilty about having a meeting without Lisa, but, as Stevie put it, “You can’t save a drowning man by jumping into the ocean.”
“Huh?” Carole said.
“Never mind—it’s just an expression,” Stevie replied.
Mrs. Lake rapped on the door and poked her head in. “I thought this was an emergency meeting of The Saddle Club,” she said, putting down a plate of cookies for them. “The whole Saddle Club.”
Stevie and Carole looked at one another, not knowing if they should explain Lisa’s absence. “It is, Mom, but you see, Lisa is the emergency,” Stevie said.
“She’s not sick, is she?” Mrs. Lake asked quickly.
“No,” Stevie said. Somehow she wasn’t sure her mother would be very sympathetic when she found out what they were meeting about. She had purposely left that vague when she’d asked permission to invite Carole over, emphasizing that it was definitely an emergency and that her mother should trust her judgment. “She’s not sick.”
“Then where is she?” Mrs. Lake asked bluntly. “What’s the emergency?”
“We have to save her from being sent to Wentworth Manor,” Stevie said just as bluntly.
“Lisa’s going to boarding school?” Mrs. Lake asked.
“Next week,” Carole said.
Mrs. Lake frowned. “So, I still don’t see what the emergency is. If Lisa and her parents have decided that that’s the best place for her, why should you interfere?”
“But Mom!” Stevie protested. “Lisa didn’t decide anything! She just went along with it because her mom wants her to go there. She’d hate it there! And she’d miss us and The Saddle Club and Pine Hollow!”
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