Headstrong

by Bonnie Bryant

  Okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly what most people would call a terrifying experience, she thought with a hint of a smile. Still, my instructor said it took guts to carry on like that without letting the judge see I was upset.

  She sighed and leaned back on her bed, closing her eyes to rest them. She had hardly slept the night before. In fact, she hadn’t slept more than an hour at a stretch since the encounter in the woods the other day. She had been haunted by nightmares that she barely remembered upon waking, though she was pretty sure that a certain pale, pudgy, and oddly menacing guy had figured prominently in most of them. She had spent most of Christmas Day feeling cranky and exhausted, not to mention guilty for constantly snapping at her family.

  But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was, she was afraid to return to Pine Hollow. Afraid to face George again.

  But that’s stupid, she told herself, clenching her hands into fists. What do you think he’s going to do?

  Before the thought was fully formed, she knew it sort of missed the point. It was true that George had suddenly, in one relatively brief encounter, become a much more complicated and mysterious person, and that she would never look at him the same way again. But she really wasn’t worried about what he might do when she saw him again—not rationally, anyway. The stable was almost always full of people when she was there, so the thought of what other bizarre tricks he might pull wasn’t nearly as frightening as wondering what she might do when she saw him.

  What if I freak out, get hysterical? Callie could feel her cheeks turning pink at the idea. What if I make a total fool of myself? Then not only will George know that he scared me, but everyone else will know it, too. And I really couldn’t stand that.

  She sighed again, feeling hot tears well up. She stared at her trophies, trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong inside her head the other day. How had this happened? How had the girl who’d fought so hard for all those ribbons—the girl who wasn’t afraid of anything—turned into this quivering, whimpering coward?

  This is ridiculous, she thought, tracing the pattern on her bedspread with one finger. I mean, what really happened, anyway? George stumbled upon my route map in the stable office and decided to follow me around like the lovesick, pathetic puppy dog I already knew he was. He wanted to play hero and pry that stone out of Scooby’s foot, and in the process he accidentally jammed the pick too hard and loosened the shoe. When that happened, he was so clueless that he convinced himself the shoe was loose before he got to it. By then he was so worked up with his own helpfulness that he got clumsy and accidentally knocked my cell phone into the stream so that I couldn’t call for some real help. And to top it off, he managed to put himself right in the way of Scooby’s hoof and ended up knocking himself out on a tree. No big deal.

  She focused on the idea that that was all that had really happened. It had all been just a series of unfortunate coincidences. Accidents. A run of bad luck.

  But she couldn’t quite manage to make herself believe it.

  “Callie?” Scott knocked gently on her half-open door and stuck his head into the room. “There you are. What are you up to?”

  Callie took a few quick breaths, regaining control of herself and willing the threatening tears away. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Um, just hanging out.”

  “Cool. Um, I was just wondering if you wanted me to drop you at the stable or anything.” Scott blinked at her, his blue eyes wide and guileless.

  Despite her present mood, Callie almost smiled. Her brother could fool most people with his gee-shucks innocent act, but not her. It was as clear as water that he was just looking for an excuse to go over to Pine Hollow. And Callie knew why. He was hoping Lisa would be there.

  And I’m hoping George won’t be there.

  Callie’s smile faded as she thought about Scott’s offer. It would be so nice to go over and see Scooby.… She was tempted to spill her guts to her brother right then and there. Maybe talking to Scott about what had happened would help her put it all in perspective, give her a handle on how to deal with it.

  No way, she thought firmly, getting control of herself once again. That would be giving the whole stupid situation too much importance. All I need to do is get over this ridiculous, pointless, totally idiotic fear and forget it ever happened.

  Of course, that didn’t mean she was ready to go back to Pine Hollow. Not yet.

  “Um, no thanks,” she told him. “I think I’ll just hang out around here today.”

  “Are you sure?” Scott looked surprised. More than a little disappointed, too. Callie guessed this was his best chance to hang out with Lisa, especially since he’d decided not to ask her out again until she’d decided whether or not to get back together with her ex-boyfriend, Alex Lake.

  But as much as she would otherwise like to help him out, she just couldn’t do it. Not today. She shrugged. “I’m sure,” she mumbled. “Totally.”

  As Lisa let herself into the front hall of her house, she heard her mother’s voice in the kitchen. She thought about going straight upstairs to avoid any chance of another unpleasant confrontation, but she was thirsty. Taking a deep breath and vowing to stay calm, she headed into the kitchen. Her mother was leaning against the counter with a glass of white wine next to her right hand and the phone tucked into the crook of her left shoulder.

  “…and it would be nice to have that traditional Christmassy look instead of just—Oh! Here’s Lisa now.” Mrs. Atwood lowered the phone and smiled at her. “Hello, sweetie. How was the stable today?”

  Lisa shrugged. “Fine.”

  “That’s good.” Her mother hardly seemed to have heard her. She took a sip of wine. “Guess what? I have your aunt Marianne on the phone, and she says they had a white Christmas! That cold snap that just made everything windy and miserable here brought them three inches of bright, beautiful snow.”

  “That’s nice.” Lisa gritted her teeth, willing herself to stay cool as she reached into the refrigerator for a soda. But she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she added, “Maybe you should go up there and build a snowman or something.”

  Her mother frowned and gave her a look she’d perfected over the years, one that told Lisa she was being so childish that she might as well go out in a diaper. Then she raised the phone again. “Marianne? Lisa says hello.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes and headed for the door. Leave it to her mother to get all excited about snow. I remember last winter when we got two inches, she was practically hysterical about all the salt mush that splashed up on her car while she was driving, she thought with a grimace. But I guess this is different. This is wonderful, magical New Jersey snow, so of course it’s all good.

  As she walked into her room, Lisa swept her eyes over the comfortable, familiar space. It had hardly changed at all since she had helped her mother decorate it years ago. She lingered lovingly over every inch of the muted, rose-toned floral fabric and wallpaper and clean white wicker. Her childhood dolls and stuffed animals were carefully lined up atop her tall dresser, and a pair of bookshelves held a collection of her favorite novels and schoolbooks, as well as a set of Pony Club manuals and other horse books, many of them gifts from Carole.

  Lisa tried to picture it all shoved into some dark, depressing little room somewhere in New Jersey, her favorite rag rug spread over ugly parquet or beige carpeting instead of wide wooden floorboards.

  “Ugh,” she said aloud.

  With a sigh, she walked over to her desk chair and flopped into it, feeling depressed. For a little while at the stable that day, she had actually started to feel a twinge of hope that things might work out somehow or other. Stevie had a way of bringing that out in people. But after a few minutes, even Stevie’s boundless optimism had started to rub her the wrong way.

  We aren’t kids anymore, she reminded herself, leaning her chin on her hand and staring fixedly at the wall. Back then, we thought we could find a way to fix any problem that came along. But the truth is, there
are some things you just can’t change, no matter how much you want to.

  At that, her mind wandered to Alex. The deadline for their temporary breakup, New Year’s, was rapidly approaching, and she still wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. It still felt strange even to have to think about it—he was the first guy she’d ever really loved, and she still couldn’t quite believe it had come to this. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering whether or not she still wanted him in her life. Of course, if she was going to be moving to New Jersey in a week or two, the whole question could be moot.

  Noticing her diary lying on the edge of the desk, Lisa grabbed it and flipped it open. Picking up a pen, she began to write.

  Dear Diary,

  Another depressing day. Why can’t I have my old life back?

  She stopped and chewed on the end of her pen. She had already filled several pages with similar whining and complaining, and what good was it doing her? She’d be better off trying to be logical and mature, maybe figure out how to deal with things. She decided to make a list of pros and cons to give herself some perspective on her life. She started with the cons, since that seemed easier just at the moment.

  My life right now—Cons:

  I might have to move to New Jersey with Mom.

  I still don’t know what to do about Alex.

  I still don’t know how to feel about Scott.

  Mom and Dad are still on my case about college.

  Everything sucks.

  My life right now—Pros:

  Only a few months until I’m eighteen and can do whatever I want, legally.

  I’m not starving or paralyzed or homeless or terminally ill.

  Stevie and Carole will always be my best friends, no matter what.

  The last entry made her feel better, but only for a moment. Then she felt even worse. How could she move so far away from them? It just wasn’t fair. And no amount of pros or cons would change that.

  Tossing aside the diary, she walked over to her bed and flopped down on her stomach. She was tired. She’d tossed and turned for most of the night before, thinking about moving. With a yawn, she rolled over and grabbed her pillow, deciding she could use a nap.…

  Lisa awoke with a start. For a second she didn’t know where she was. Then she remembered. She’d been having some sort of weird dream. She and Carole and Stevie had all been kids again, back in the days when they were The Saddle Club, and they’d come up with a plan to stop Lisa’s mother from moving to New Jersey. For a second, Lisa felt tremendously happy.

  Then a knock came on her door and her mother stuck her head in. “Lisa?” she said, sounding vaguely annoyed. “Didn’t you hear me calling your?”

  Suddenly Lisa snapped back to the here and now, and her whole life came crashing down around her once again. Her problem wasn’t solved—not even close. The Saddle Club hadn’t ridden to the rescue, her mother hadn’t changed her mind, and Lisa didn’t get to stay in Willow Creek where she belonged. No, things were just as bad as ever, and no dream could change that.

  “Uh, sorry, Mom,” she mumbled, shaking her head to try to clear it. “What is it?”

  Mrs. Atwood started chattering about Aunt Marianne and New Jersey as Lisa blinked away the last few remnants of her dream. It was almost painful to recall how pitifully excited she’d been at the thought that she was saved. How could she have believed it could ever be that simple, even in a dream?

  She was so distracted that it took a moment or two to focus on what her mother was saying. “…and so I just called in and took a few days off.” Mrs. Atwood grimaced. “My boss gave me grief about that, of course, but who cares? It’s not like I’ll need that job much longer anyway.”

  “Wh-What are you talking about?” Lisa asked, trying to keep up. “Why did you take time off?”

  Mrs. Atwood sighed loudly. “Weren’t you listening?” she practically shouted. “I just told you. I’m going to drive up to Marianne’s for a few days. I want to take a look around the area, maybe talk to some real estate agents. You can come along if you like,” she added, her expression suddenly hopeful. “After all, you don’t have school this week. It could be the perfect opportunity for you to come up and help pick out where we should live.”

  Lisa frowned, finally focusing completely on what her mother was saying. “No thanks,” she snapped. “Unlike you, I don’t have any interest in visiting New Jersey at all.”

  “Well!” Mrs. Atwood looked slightly taken aback for a second. Then she returned Lisa’s frown. “With that attitude, you’re not going to have an easy time adjusting to your new home,” she said frostily.

  “Whatever,” Lisa muttered, knowing that she sounded like a sulky brat but not caring. Her mother deserved it. After all this time, did she really think she was ever going to convince Lisa that this moving idea was a good thing? Was she that clueless?

  Throwing her hands up and sighing loudly and dramatically, Mrs. Atwood stormed out of the room, leaving Lisa alone with her thoughts. Dream or no dream, it was time to face reality. And the reality was, her mother was serious about this. She wasn’t changing her mind. They were really going to move.

  THREE

  “Hanson,” Carole told the bored-looking college-aged girl behind the counter. “There should be two rolls.”

  The girl snapped her gum, then turned and lazily surveyed a rack behind her that was stuffed full of stiff white envelopes. “Henderson?” she asked.

  “Hanson,” Carole repeated patiently. “I dropped them off three days ago.”

  The girl grabbed two of the envelopes. “Carl Hanson?”

  “That’s it,” Carole said, hiding a smile. “Thanks. How much?”

  She quickly paid the girl, then took the film and hurried outside. Ripping open the first envelope, she pulled out a fat stack of photos. She flipped through them quickly, then went back to the beginning and examined them more slowly. Most of the photos had been taken at Pine Hollow, and many of them featured her and Cam. She gazed at those happily, running her eyes over his handsome physique and wondering just how she’d become the luckiest girl on the planet.

  I can’t believe this hot guy is really my boyfriend, she thought in amazement as she pulled up a photo of Cam grooming Starlight. I can’t believe he’s real, and he loves me, and we’re going steady.

  It really did seem hard to believe, especially now, after Cam had been out of town visiting relatives for several days. It felt like forever since he’d left. Still, the special shiver she felt down her spine when she remembered kissing him good-bye on Christmas Eve reminded Carole that this was for real.

  She pulled up the next photo. This one didn’t feature Cam at all. It was a picture Carole had taken more than a month earlier, way back at the beginning of the roll. The photo showed Firefly, a flashy young mare that Max had recently added to the stable, trotting around the schooling ring with Ben Marlow in the saddle.

  Carole gulped as she automatically noted Ben’s flawless position and firm control of the flighty young horse. It had been so long since she’d seen him ride that she’d almost forgotten how good he was. In fact, it had been a long time since she’d seen much of Ben at all.

  It’s just because I haven’t been working at Pine Hollow since I got grounded, she reminded herself, quickly moving past that picture and several others taken at the same training session.

  Soon she came to another picture of Cam. She lingered over it for a moment, smiling at the funny expression on his face as he mugged for the camera.

  “I really am awfully lucky,” she murmured aloud.

  Realizing that her cheeks were starting to go numb from the cold, she stuffed the pictures back into their envelope and hurried toward her car, shivering. Her father would be expecting her home soon, and she still had one more errand to run.

  When she reached her car, she tossed the photo envelopes on top of her father’s dry cleaning, which was taking up most of the backseat. Then she climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine,
which muttered in protest at the cold. Turning down a narrow side street, she found a parking space near the entrance of Willow Creek Feed and Grain, a modest farm supply store tucked between an accountant’s office and the local VFW hall. It didn’t have nearly the selection of The Saddlery, the fancier tack shop at the mall, but it did carry some basic necessities, including the mineral block that she needed to pick up for Starlight.

  When she hurried into the store a moment later, she was surprised to spot a familiar face. Usually the only people she encountered at the feed store were crusty old farmers or 4-H’ers buying chicken or sheep pellets.

  “Callie?” she said. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”

  Callie spun around, looking startled. Dropping the nylon halter she was holding back onto the shelf, she ran a hand over her long blond hair and smiled, though it looked slightly forced. “Oh, hi, Carole,” she said. “Um, I was just browsing.”

  Carole cast an uncertain glance around the cramped, poorly lit store. It wasn’t really the kind of place that was set up for browsing. The shelves were sparsely stocked with prosaic items such as fencing supplies and poultry waterers, and aside from half a shelf of equine items—feed supplements, deworming paste, a few halters, and bell boots—there really wasn’t much to look at.

  Carole shrugged, deciding her friend’s shopping habits were her own business. Besides, there were more interesting things to talk about. “Are you going over to Pine Hollow after this?” she asked eagerly. “Or were you already there?”

  Callie didn’t answer for a moment, instead gazing at a stack of fly strips as if they were the most interesting things she’d ever seen. Finally, she lifted one shoulder slightly in a sort of half shrug. “I don’t think I’ll make it over there today.”

  “What?” Carole wondered if she’d misunderstood somehow. “But you haven’t been there in days, have you? I mean, Scooby—”

  “Scooby will live,” Callie said with a slight frown. “I’m just really busy right now, okay? Don’t worry, though, I called and asked them to turn him out this afternoon when it warms up a little.” She turned away again, clearly wanting to drop the subject.