Wild Horse

by Bonnie Bryant

  “I’m sure it’s hard for you to imagine her going away, but make sure you’re thinking about Lisa, sweetheart. It’s her future. Wentworth might be a great opportunity for her,” Mrs. Lake said.

  Stevie waited until her mother had left to respond. “That is so typical!” she hissed. “Parents always band together! I’ve heard my mother call Wentworth a chi-chi riding school, but now she’s siding with Mrs. Atwood.”

  “To be fair, maybe we should consider the possibility that Lisa would be better off at Wentworth,” Carole said reluctantly. She and Stevie were silent for about five seconds.

  “She wouldn’t,” Stevie and Carole said at the same time.

  “If she wanted to go there, she would still be sad to leave, but the point is, she’s not acting sad,” Stevie reasoned. “She’s way beyond sad.”

  “She’s miserable,” Carole agreed. “And confused and upset and tortured. And this is one time when we know how she feels and her parents don’t. If they knew how much she hated Wentworth, they would never want her to go there.”

  “Well …,” Stevie said doubtfully, remembering Mrs. Atwood’s history of pressuring Lisa into things.

  “No, seriously, Stevie. Her mother might make her look at the place, but she wouldn’t make her go there,” Carole insisted.

  “I guess you’re right,” Stevie conceded. Frustrated, she crossed her arms over her chest and sat back on her bed. “If only we could get Lisa to talk to her mother!”

  “But she won’t—or can’t,” Carole said, sighing.

  “And you know what really gets me?” Stevie said, after thinking for a few minutes. “Everyone keeps mentioning the great opportunities at Wentworth, but how great are they? I think the greatest opportunity is for Lisa to stay right where she is, where she’s always been happy.”

  “And successful,” Carole added. “She aces everything, but she has enough competition so she doesn’t get bored.” Carole knew about the crowd of supersmart kids Lisa competed with academically. She’d often heard Lisa say that certain of her classmates, as well as her teachers, kept her on her toes.

  “That’s one thing she won’t have at Wentworth,” Stevie said scornfully. “None of those girls could be half as smart as Lisa. All they care about is their appearance.”

  “Do you think Mrs. Atwood realizes that it’s not that great academically?” Carole asked.

  Stevie shrugged. “Who knows? She’s probably so caught up in how prestigious it is that she’s forgotten all about academics.”

  The girls talked for almost an hour without thinking up any solutions. They wanted to call Lisa and beg her to talk to her parents, but they were scared that that would backfire. They were afraid that Lisa, sick of their interfering, would refuse to talk to them, upset that they were persisting in making it worse for her.

  When Mrs. Lake knocked on the door again to tell them to go to bed, they were beginning to feel desperate.

  “You’ll have to get your own breakfast in the morning, girls,” Mrs. Lake told them, “because I’m not going to be here. I’m leaving very early to get my hair cut before work.”

  “Where are you getting it cut?” Stevie asked idly. She could never keep straight which salon her mother went to because she always seemed to be changing hairdressers.

  “I’m going back to Cosmo Cuts,” said Mrs. Lake. “Everyone agrees it’s the best. It’s owned by that man—”

  “Charles,” Stevie and Carole said in unison.

  Mrs. Lake looked at them, surprised. “How did you know?”

  “Mrs. Atwood took Lisa there, and Mrs. diAngelo and Veronica get their hair done there once a week,” Carole explained.

  “It sounds like the place to go, then,” Mrs. Lake said. “There’s cereal and fruit for the morning, okay?”

  At her mother’s insistence, Stevie turned the lights out. She waited until she heard her mother go into her own bedroom and shut the door. Then she turned the lights back on—and sat bolt upright. “Carole,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, “do you think that if Lisa’s mother suddenly changed her mind about Wentworth, Lisa would feel okay about not going?”

  Carole stared at her friend curiously. “I think that if Lisa could get out of this without having to upset her mother, she would do it in a second. Why? What do you have in mind?”

  “Remember what you told me Lisa said about the hair salon?” Stevie asked.

  Carole considered Stevie’s question for a moment. “You mean what the women were saying about Max and Veronica?”

  “Not what they were saying, but that they were saying it,” Stevie said breathlessly. “Lisa said that Cosmo Cuts was a great place to eavesdrop—a great place to overhear things.”

  “So?” Carole said. As usual, she was utterly failing to follow Stevie’s train of thought.

  “Well, what if Mrs. Atwood were to overhear negative things about Wentworth at her next appointment?” Stevie said. She paused to let her idea sink in, watching Carole process the suggestion. “What if someone were to say that Wentworth is a horrible school?”

  “Then Mrs. Atwood might decide that it’s not such a great opportunity for Lisa after all,” Carole said slowly. “But she couldn’t hear it from just anyone.”

  “No, she’d have to hear it from a socially prominent person,” Stevie said, thinking hard.

  “Who? Your mother? I doubt she’d want to take part in a setup like that,” Carole said.

  The very thought of her mother’s agreeing to be in cahoots with them made Stevie laugh. “She sure wouldn’t, and she’d give us a lecture on scheming behind people’s backs, too.”

  “So what are you getting at?” Carole asked. Stevie’s idea was all well and good, but the chances of some person’s bad-mouthing Wentworth while Mrs. Atwood was there were almost nil. Obviously they had to get someone to do it. But adults were annoying that way. They’d want to know all about the plan, and then they’d probably try to put a stop to it instead of joining forces.

  “I’m not sure exactly,” Stevie admitted. “But if we could think of someone …”

  “Wait a minute,” Carole said. “Wait a minute! It’s perfect—oh my gosh, it’s perfect!”

  “What? Who?” Stevie demanded.

  “Who gets her hair done there every week?” Carole asked.

  Stevie’s eyes grew large. “And hates Wentworth already!”

  “Mrs. diAngelo!” they both cried—or at least, they would have cried, except that they were whispering so that they wouldn’t get into trouble with Stevie’s mother.

  “Do you think if somebody prompted her, she would say bad things about Wentworth?” Carole asked.

  “I know she would. I’ve heard her rant and rave about the place. The question is, who’s going to do the prompting?” Stevie said.

  “We certainly can’t—that would be way too obvious,” Carole said. One by one, she considered people and rejected them.

  “Oh no!” Stevie moaned all of a sudden.

  “What?” Carole said. “What is it?” She could tell that Stevie was about four moves ahead of her. She had seen through to the end of the plan.

  Stevie let out a long-suffering sigh. “I just realized who I’m going to have to pick to be cochair of the dance committee.”

  Carole’s face lit up. “Veronica!” she exclaimed. She didn’t need Stevie to explain any further. She understood perfectly: Stevie was going to bribe Veronica with the dance committee job. Veronica would already be at the salon with her mother. It would be easy for her to casually mention Wentworth Manor. If all went as planned, Mrs. diAngelo would do the rest. “Brilliant,” Carole breathed. “Absolutely brilliant.”

  “There’s a flaw, though,” Stevie said. “I just realized what it is. We’re going to have to involve Lisa. We can’t wait until Mrs. Atwood needs another appointment. That could be weeks, and chances are it would be on the wrong day of the week. Lisa is going to have to get her mother to go to Cosmo Cuts at the same day and time as Veronica’s mot
her.”

  “You’re right,” Carole agreed. After reflecting for a minute, she said, “But you know, I don’t think that’s a flaw. I think we should talk to Lisa and tell her about this. It’s her life, after all. I say we have emergency meeting number two tomorrow after school at TD’s, only this time with the whole Saddle Club. I’ll speak to Lisa in school. I’m sure I can get her to come if I pretend it’s for one last time before she leaves.”

  The two girls went over the plan again in detail. Both of them would have felt better if Lisa had been there with her notebook to jot it all down and look for loopholes. But they had to do the best they could without her. When they met tomorrow, they had to present her with a finished plan.

  “I can’t believe we’re putting Lisa’s fate into the diAngelos’ hands,” Carole said, finally putting her head on her pillow.

  Without answering, Stevie got out of bed and began to rummage through the wastebasket under her desk. “What are you doing?” Carole asked curiously.

  “I’m hunting for that list of possible themes for the dance that Veronica gave me. It looks like we might have to have a ‘Princess of Fenton Hall’ dance after all—with you-know-who wearing the crown of honor!”

  STEVIE HAD SWALLOWED her pride many times before. She had begged for mercy and groveled for forgiveness. But the thought of groveling in front of Veronica made her feel physically ill. She was determined to keep the ball in her court. If she let on that Veronica was the key to their entire plan, Veronica would lord it over her no end. The next morning at school, Stevie planned her attack. She decided to catch Veronica on her way to lunch. She hoped Veronica would be hungry so that her defenses would be down.

  First Stevie stalked her prey. The hall was bustling with students, but Veronica stood out in her brand-new sweater and skirt, with her elaborately coiffed black hair. Sometimes Stevie wondered if she ever wore the same thing twice or just threw her clothes out after a day at school. Once Stevie located her, she doubled back down the hall as fast as she could so that she could run into Veronica—literally. “Oh, excuse me!” Stevie said, looking up at the last minute.

  “Very funny,” Veronica said sarcastically.

  “I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Stevie protested, “honestly.”

  “Sure, Stevie,” Veronica said. “I’ll believe that the day you make me head of the dance committee.”

  Stevie couldn’t believe the opening Veronica had given her. It was too good to be true. “Then I guess you’ll have to believe me, because I decided last night, and you’re my cochair.”

  Instead of jumping for joy, Veronica looked suspiciously at Stevie. Stevie knew that now was her moment to shine. If she acted strange about it, Veronica would guess she was up to something. “Yup. I thought about it,” Stevie said nonchalantly, “and I figured you’re the right person for the job.”

  Veronica narrowed her eyes. She looked unconvinced.

  “Even after yesterday? Stevie, if this is some kind of a joke—”

  “It’s not a joke. Look, we both know we’re not best friends, right?”

  “That’s for sure,” Veronica said with a short laugh.

  “Well, that’s the whole point,” Stevie said.

  “What is?” Veronica asked.

  “I want this dance to be great. And in order for it to be great, a lot of people have to come. So it would be stupid for me to pick one of my friends to be cochair. A friend would only bring in the same crowd that I would. But if I pick you, you’ll bring in a whole other crowd of people.” To herself, Stevie added, A whole crowd of snobs and jerks.

  Veronica was many things, but she wasn’t stupid. Stevie watched her face and could see that she understood the logic behind Stevie’s plan. Stevie was rather impressed with the plan herself. Miss Fenton would have to be convinced that the two of them could work together without killing each other, but Stevie wasn’t worried about that—she’d been sweet-talking her elders for as long as she could remember, with great results.

  “All right. I guess I’ll do it,” Veronica said. “If you need me that badly.”

  Stevie could tell that Veronica was trying to hide her excitement. After swearing at Pine Hollow that she wouldn’t take the job, she wouldn’t want to let on how happy she was to get it now.

  “There’s just one little thing you have to do,” Stevie said, moving in for the kill.

  “I think I’ve already done quite enough,” Veronica said, bristling.

  “Oh, don’t worry. This is easy. When are your and your mother’s next appointments at Cosmo Cuts?” Stevie asked.

  Veronica sneered. “What, you want my mother to treat you to a cut there? Your hair could sure use some help, but couldn’t you ask your own mother?”

  “Just tell me when you’re going,” Stevie said, her patience ebbing fast.

  “What’s today? Wednesday? So it’s tomorrow—my mother goes Thursdays at four, and I go at four-thirty. We have to stagger our appointments because we’ll both only go to Charles. He’s the best, you know. He …”

  Stevie reeled for a minute at the news that they only had a day to organize everything. But recovering herself, she took Veronica by the arm and led her down the hall. When Veronica had finished going on about Charles, Stevie said, as casually as possible, “Here’s what you have to do.…”

  * * *

  CAROLE WAITED ANXIOUSLY at TD’s, the local ice cream parlor. She was sitting alone in The Saddle Club’s usual booth. It was just four o’clock. She knew Stevie would get there any minute, but she was worried about Lisa. Lisa had been reluctant to meet them. She’d told Carole that she didn’t want to get into another argument with Stevie about Wentworth. And even though she’d finally agreed to come, Carole couldn’t relax until she’d walked in the door.

  At five after, Lisa arrived, followed by Stevie. Carole breathed a sigh of relief. Once they were all seated, Carole and Stevie looked at one another. Stevie nodded almost imperceptibly.

  “Lisa,” Carole began, “we got you here under false pretenses.”

  Lisa frowned but stayed silent, letting Carole continue.

  Carole spoke quietly but urgently, turning so that she could look right at Lisa. “We got you here to tell you that we have a plan. We think we know a way to save you from going to Wentworth without upsetting your mother. But what we have to know is the bottom line: Do you want to be saved?”

  Lisa swallowed hard. “Yes,” she said in a dry voice.

  “Yippee!” Stevie shouted at the top of her lungs.

  One of the waitresses walked lazily over to them. “I take it you want to order,” she asked, totally unfazed by Stevie’s outburst.

  “Actually, we still need about five minutes,” Stevie said meekly.

  “Sure, kids, whatever,” the waitress said, retreating to the counter.

  “So, you don’t want to go there?” Carole asked.

  Lisa shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked at Stevie, then looked down. “I feel silly admitting it now, after I made such a fuss, but no, I don’t want to go to Wentworth.” At Stevie and Carole’s expectant looks, she went on, “I dread going there. I’d hate it—I know I would. I’d miss my parents and you guys and Prancer and Max and Mrs. Reg and my teachers more than I can imagine. Heck, I’d even miss the obnoxious boys who take over the student lounge. But I told my mother the school was nice because she made such a big effort to get me accepted there, with a scholarship.” By this time Lisa was half laughing, half sobbing—it was such a relief to talk to Carole and Stevie again.

  Carole put an arm around Lisa. Stevie muttered something about being sorry for interfering. Lisa refused to accept the apology. “I’m the one who should be sorry,” she said.

  With the air cleared, Stevie got down to the plan. Listening intently, Lisa interrupted to ask a question. “How do I get my mother to go there tomorrow, though?”

  “Tell her you want her to look especially nice now that she’s going to be a Wentworth mom, so you’re treating
her to a shampoo and set,” Stevie said.

  “A shampoo and set won’t last a whole week, though,” Lisa pointed out.

  Stevie smiled. Normally she hated to find problems with her schemes, but it was so great to have Lisa back on the scene that she didn’t mind. “Okay, how about a manicure, then?”

  Lisa shook her head. “She does her own nails.”

  “I’ve got it,” Carole said. “A facial.”

  “Great idea,” Stevie said. “Facials are really special, aren’t they? I know my mom only gets them, like, once a year.”

  Lisa grinned. “Yeah, they’re so special they cost around sixty dollars.”

  Stevie winced. “Ouch.”

  “But if we all chip in, that’s only twenty apiece,” Carole said. “Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Stevie said. Then she added sheepishly, “As long as I can borrow twenty dollars.”

  Lisa and Carole laughed. They were both savers, but they knew that money burned a hole in Stevie’s pocket. “Are you sure it’s not too much?” Lisa asked.

  “Of course we’re sure. Think of what we’ll save in stamps and long-distance phone calls,” Carole said.

  “Okay, so a facial it is. But what if I’can’t get an appointment for four o’clock? That salon is so popular, you usually have to wait weeks,” said Lisa.

  Stevie’s hazel eyes twinkled. “We’ll solve that right now,” she said. She got up and went to the pay phone in the corner of the ice cream parlor.

  “What do you think she’s doing?” Lisa asked.

  “Turning on the Stevie Lake charm,” Carole guessed.

  A few minutes later Stevie rejoined them at the table. “Boy, they’re tough at Cosmo Cuts. But I got the appointment. At quarter past four tomorrow, which, by the way, is your mother’s birthday,” Stevie told Lisa.

  “It is?” Lisa asked. “You told them it was my mother’s birthday?”

  “Yes, and you forgot to make the appointment and you felt terrible because you saved up your money for weeks to get her this facial and you’d never forgive yourself if she couldn’t go tomorrow. Just a little white lie.”