“Hi, girls,” Mr. Conner said, addressing Heather and me. He stopped and the new girl stopped beside him.
“Hi,” we said back.
As we greeted her, I noticed her clothes. Tall, shiny black boots, breeches that looked as if they’d never been worn, and a soft pink v-neck shirt that looked like something I’d wear on a date.
“Heather, Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “I’d like to introduce you to Brit Chan and her horse Apollo. Brit’s a new transfer to Canterwood.”
“Hey,” I said, smiling at her. I remembered what it felt like to be the new girl.
“Hi,” Heather said. Her tone was a little less friendly than mine.
“Brit rode for the YENT at her old school,” Mr. Conner said. “She was selected during the same round of tryouts as both of you.”
Heather stiffened slightly. I knew Heather. She was no longer looking at Brit as another girl at school—Heather now saw Brit as competition. As a rider who was on our YENT team.
“Mr. Conner,” Heather said. “If Brit is on the YENT now, what about Julia, Alison, and Callie? They’re all working for the next tryout.”
Mr. Conner nodded at Heather, as if he’d expected this question from her. “Because Brit came to us as a YENT rider, there will still be an open slot on our team for another Canterwood student.”
That answer seemed to make Heather relax a little. I went back to looking at Brit. She stood there—so calm and seemingly not intimidated by her new teammates. There was something about her that I hadn’t seen before in any student at Canterwood. I couldn’t figure out just what “it” was, but when I looked at Brit, I wanted to talk to her more.
“Please go ahead and mount your horses and we’ll get started with the lesson,” Mr. Conner said.
I gathered the reins, slipped my toe into the stirrup iron, and swung my other leg over the back of the saddle. Heather eased Aristocrat next to Brit’s horse. I cringed, sure Heather was going to say something snarky to her.
“Nice shirt,” Heather said. “Fall Prada collection.”
Brit nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
And I’d just liked it because of the color. Was Brit one of those girls? A girl who’d be BFFs with the most popular girls in two seconds? What if … no. Not going there. I’d been around the girl for all of five seconds and I was already worrying that she was the new Jasmine on campus. Stop judging her and ride already, I told myself.
Heather rode Aristocrat away from Brit and toward the wall. Brit and her horse ended up between Charm and Aristocrat. We started the horses at a walk near the wall. Charm and I were behind Brit—I watched as she moved Apollo around at a relaxed walk.
“Trot,” Mr. Conner called.
Within strides, we’d all let our horses out at a trot and we were posting. Brit moved ever so slightly in the saddle—her arms tucked against her sides and her heels down.
I’d only seen her at a trot, but I had a feeling the more I’d see of her riding, the clearer it would become why she’d made the YENT.
“Reverse direction and keep trotting,” Mr. Conner said.
We crossed over the center of the arena and I sat for a beat to post on the correct diagonal.
Now, I was in front of Brit and Heather was behind her. It made me a little nervous to have Brit watch me ride, but I tried to think of it like any other class and pretend Heather was the only one in the arena with Charm and me.
Mr. Conner stood in the center of the dirt arena, his glance switching from us to the clipboard in his hands that he used to take notes. He ran a hand over his short black hair, his dark brown eyes intense on us. He wore his usual hunter green Canterwood Crest Academy polo shirt with CCA stitched in gold thread under the collar. Canterwood was big on school spirit and the school colors were everywhere on campus.
I looked between Charm’s pointed ears and wondered how Brit felt about her first lesson here. I’d been terrified during my first class. But from what I’d seen so far, she appeared to be cool.
“Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “Lower your hands and keep them still.”
I eased my hands down a couple of inches and held them steady. You’ve got to work on that, I scolded myself. For the next few strides, I concentrated on my hands and made sure they stayed still and in the right position. The sound of hoofbeats on the arena dirt was almost like a tune I wished I could capture and put on my iPod. The rhythmic sound pulsed into my brain, relaxing my body. I didn’t have to concentrate on keeping the correct position—it was right without me thinking about it.
“Ease them into a canter, please,” Mr. Conner said.
I squeezed my legs against Charm’s sides and gave him rein. He moved from a trot into a smooth canter. His Thoroughbred/Belgian blood helped him take long strides, and we were almost halfway around the arena before I realized it.
“Change direction,” Mr. Conner said. “And Heather, your legs keep creeping too far forward.”
We kept our horses at a steady canter as we switched direction. Again, I was behind Brit. At a canter, I was really able to see her in action. She rocked to Apollo’s easy strides, and I knew Brit had to have trained at a fantastic school. She’d probably tell us all about it the second we got off our horses.
“Brit,” Mr. Conner said. “Watch your back position. You’re hunching forward too much.”
In front of me, Brit straightened. Mr. Conner kept us cantering the horses around the arena for two more laps. It felt so good to be back in my arena. It had been fun riding at Heather’s old stable during break, but this was where I was most comfortable.
Mr. Conner raised his hand. “Pull them to a walk,” he said.
Heather, Brit, and I slowed the horses. I ran a hand down Charm’s neck. He was warm, but not even close to sweating. Mr. Conner’s lessons kept him well-conditioned. The exercise hadn’t fazed him.
“We’re going to stick to flatwork this morning,” Mr. Conner said. “We have plenty of time before the schooling show to work on jumping. Brit will be joining us at the show, so we’ll all be working together to get ready.”
This girl wowed me. It was her first week here and she was showing on Sunday.
Mr. Conner walked out of the center of the arena, standing off to the side. “Start your horses in large circles at a sitting trot,” he said. “After each rotation, make the circle smaller. Before you feel your horse start to strain, stop.”
Charm and I definitely needed practice with circles, especially on his left side. He was stiff sometimes and the circles helped him stretch and flex.
I asked Charm to trot and guided him in a large circle. Brit was in the middle of the arena with Heather off to the side. I didn’t let myself focus on Brit or Heather—I had to keep my attention on Charm. We had to get the most of every second of the lesson. Especially with the schooling show so close.
Charm’s muscles felt loose as we completed our first rotation. I pulled the reins in slightly, guiding him into a circle that was a fraction smaller. As we turned toward the center of the arena, I noted the intensity on Brit’s face and how her gelding seemed so in tune with her. Heather and Aristocrat were also completing a circle that showed off the beautiful Thoroughbred’s movements.
I tightened the reins a notch and Charm’s circle got smaller. Beneath me, I felt him start to lean a little to the side, but still keep his balance. He’d usually begin to have to work harder to keep a steady pace and even footing after a few more laps. I took him around twice more before I could sense the strain through his back. I let him into a big circle, then changed directions.
Charm moved much easier this way. He made two more rotations in this direction than he had in the previous.
Mr. Conner made us do a few more circles, then spirals, before raising his hand and signaling us to move our horses in front of him.
“Great start,” he said. He looked over to Brit. “I hope that you’ll feel more comfortable with each lesson. Please don’t hesitate to come to me or any of my riders if you have question
s.”
“Thank you,” Brit said.
“Have a good day back at class and see you at our next lesson,” Mr. Conner said.
Heather, Brit, and I dismounted and Brit followed Heather and me out of the arena and into the aisle.
Mike and Doug, the other stable groom, met us and smiled.
“We take care of the horses in the morning,” Mike said to Brit. “Your guy is all yours in the afternoon.”
“Thanks so much,” Brit said. She handed her horse’s reins to Mike, and Doug took Charm and Aristocrat. We unsnapped our helmets, starting toward the tack room.
“What’d you think?” I asked Brit.
“Mr. Conner seems like a great instructor,” Brit said. “I know I’m going to learn a lot from him.”
“You definitely will,” I said. We entered the tack room and found Julia and Alison inside, dressed in yoga pants and hoodies.
“What’re you guys doing here?” Heather asked.
“We heard there was a new transfer onto the YENT team,” Alison said. Her long sandy-brown hair was wavy and loose around her shoulders.
“Yeah,” Julia said. “We wanted to catch some of your lesson, but we overslept.”
Both girls didn’t even look at Brit—they acted as if she was a regular, even though Canterwood was a fairly small campus.
“Hi,” Brit said, stepping forward. She smiled at Julia and Alison. “I’m the new student, Brit.”
Julia ran a hand through her short blond bob, her eyes widening when she looked at Brit.
“Oh,” she said, an edge to her voice. “So you’re the YENT transfer?”
“She just said that,” Heather interrupted. “We need to get back to Orchard before we’re late for class.”
“Orchard?” Brit asked, smiling. “That’s where I live.”
“Walk back with us, then,” Heather said. She turned to me. “Later, Silver.”
Heather ignored the shocked glances from Julia and Alison and motioned for Brit to follow her. Brit flashed a smile at me.
“Nice to meet you, Sasha,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see you in class.”
“That would be cool. See you around,” I said.
Heather, Julia, Alison, and Brit left the tack room with me staring after them.
5
SMALL-TOWN GIRL
BACK IN MY ROOM, I HURRIED TO SHOWER, dress and get to class. Paige had already left—a star-shaped sticky note on my bed said she’d had a meeting with Ms. Utz, our guidance counselor, this morning.
The morning’s classes weren’t any different from the classes before break. I’d had a fantasy that the teachers would suddenly become easier on us and would assign no or little homework on the first day.
So. Wrong.
By the time I got to math, my assignment notebook was full of so many things that I’d be up way after lights out.
I walked into math class and took my usual seat, opening the fifty-pound hardback textbook and trying to remember the formulas I was supposed to have memorized over break. Callie was in this class, too, so I always kept my gaze on the whiteboard or my desk.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
I looked up and saw Brit gesturing to the desk across from me.
“Nope,” I said. “That’s what’s cool about this class. We can sit wherever we want.”
“Cool,” Brit said. “None of my teachers at my old school ever did that.”
I started to ask Brit where she’d gone to school, but my attention was caught by a purple notebook covered in glittery star stickers.
“Those are so cute,” I said. “I love stickers.” I closed the cover of my own notebook, showing her the horse and heart stickers that covered mine.
Brit leaned over, pointing to a sticker of a chestnut horse head. “That looks like your horse. What’s his name?”
“Charm,” I said. “He’s a sweet horse. I’ll have to introduce you two at our next lesson.”
Brit grinned. “I’d love that.”
We smiled at each other. “So, where did you—”
I stopped talking when Ms. Utz, who also taught math, walked in with Callie close behind. Callie slid into a seat near the door, not even looking in my direction.
“Welcome back, class,” Ms. Utz said. “Let’s take attendance and get right to work. I know you’ve all missed math over break.”
The entire class looked around at each other. That was so untrue. For me, anyway.
I tried to pay attention, but my mind kept wandering to Brit. I’d been just about to ask her where she’d transferred from. She had the look of a girl who’d come from a fancy school like Heather, but there was something different about the way she acted. All of the seats filled around her, as if everyone wanted to get to know the new girl.
Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at her clothes. Dark blue skinny jeans tucked into black boots with a slight heel. Her dark brown three-quarters sleeve shirt had buttons down the front with a few ruffles. She looked like definite Trio material. But there was something about her that wasn’t quite Trio-like.
Forty minutes later, Brit and I walked out of class together, long after Callie had disappeared from the classroom. We matched strides and walked out of the math building. As we walked down the hallway, everyone smiled at her and they looked as if they wished they could join us.
“What class do you have next?” I asked Brit.
She pulled her schedule out of her bag and scanned it. “I have a meeting with the guidance counselor’s assistant,” she said. “Then lunch.”
“I have lunch now,” I said. “The cafeteria is halfway to the admissions building. I can walk you toward there, if you want.”
“That’d be great,” Brit said, flipping her braid behind her shoulder.
We walked down the sidewalk, dodging other students who were rushing to class, and I enjoyed the light breeze and sun on my face.
“I was about to ask before Ms. Utz came in,” I said. “Where did you transfer from?”
“Charles Middle School,” Brit said.
“That’s twenty minutes from where I went to school!” I said. “I’m from Union.”
“No way! Omigod, that’s so cool,” Brit said, bouncing. “I thought everyone here would be from New York City or some other big place.”
“Not me. Small-town girl all the way.”
Brit smiled. “This is too awesome. Where did you ride?”
“Briar Creek Stable,” I said. “What about you?”
“Pemberton. I’ve heard of Briar Creek. We probably competed against each other at a local show and didn’t even know it.”
“Probably.” It felt crazy to meet someone else who was from a small town. Brit was from a city that wasn’t much bigger than Union, but she’d walked onto campus as if she’d moved here from New York or Los Angeles.
“I was sure you’d transferred from a private school,” I said. “Where did you go to ride in Charles?”
“My mom drove me an hour each way to Pemberton Stables,” Brit said. She shifted her backpack. “She probably spent more time in the car taking me to lessons or waiting for me than she did at home.”
Her tone was joking, but I could tell she was serious.
“I couldn’t imagine two hours in the car to get to the stable,” I said. “How often did you go?”
“Every day,” Brit said. “I had to, if I wanted to make the YENT.”
We rounded the sidewalk and I reached the entrance to the cafeteria. If someone hadn’t laughed loud enough to jostle me out of our conversation, I would have missed my stop and kept talking to her. It felt so good to talk to someone else who got it.
“The guidance office,” I said. “Is in the building straight ahead.”
“Thanks for walking with me,” Brit said. “It’s so great to meet someone.”
“No prob,” I said. “Bye.”
Brit and I both walked away smiling. When I turned to look to see if she’d gone in the right direction, I saw a group of eighth-grad
e guys staring at her and whispering. They were all smiling, and they didn’t stop watching her until she went inside.
While I waited for the lunch lady to serve my mac and cheese and ham sandwich, I kept going over our conversation in my head. Brit hadn’t tried to hide where she was from—she was proud of being from Charles. And I had a feeling that once everyone—Heather included—found out where she was from, she would still be supercool Brit Chan.
6
I’M NEVER WRONG
I FINALLY GOT BACK TO MY ROOM AFTER class, tossed my backpack onto the floor and fell backward onto my bed. Paige, right behind me, mirrored my collapse.
“This was the most intense Monday ever,” I said.
“No kidding,” Paige said, rubbing her eyes. “There’s no way I’ll finish even half my homework before tomorrow. I’ll have to get up at, like, five to get it all done.”
“Same,” I said. “I’ve got a zillion things to do, and I have no clue where to start.”
My phone buzzed on my lamp table, and I swiped it.
Come ovr @ 7.—H
I sat up, realizing I’d forgotten about Heather’s back-to-school get-together tonight and really needed to get my homework done. Like, right now.
I spread my books on my bed, opening my notebook.
“Wow,” Paige said. “I was going to take a breather since we just got back from class, but you’re making me feel so guilty.”
“I have to start now,” I said. “I forgot that Heather invited me to the Trio’s suite tonight for a back-to-school thing.”
Paige paused, playing with the ends of her hair.
“Oh. I didn’t know you were going there. Yeah, then. You better get started now.”
Tension crept back into the room—something I didn’t want.
“I can totally blow them off,” I said. “We could do our homework together and chill.”
Elite Ambition Page 3