I smiled, hoping some of Khloe’s acting skills had rubbed off on me. “Not at all. I knew what the show was about. I’m glad we have this week, the weekend, and all of next week to practice. Plus, if we’re acting like a team, we’ll be that much stronger.”
Riley flashed a perfect smile. “Exactly!”
Sneakers squeaked on the gym floor and Mr. Warren appeared, whistle around his neck and a basketball under each arm.
Finally.
“Good afternoon, students,” Mr. Warren said. He wore his usual customized Puma tracksuit—hunter-green pants and jacket with gold stripes.
“Hi, Mr. Warren,” we said.
“We’re going to warm up with a few laps around the gym. I’ll divide you into two teams and you’ll play a short game. First team to score ten points wins.”
“Do we get a prize?” a girl with sandy curls asked.
Mr. Warren smiled. “I guess I could do that. If a team reaches ten points before the period is over, then that team is dismissed and can use the rest of gym as a free period.”
Cheering broke out. I so wanted to win!
“Get warmed up!” Mr. Warren said.
I fell in with the other girls as the eighteen of us jogged around the gym. At Mr. Warren’s whistle, we changed directions. Jogging in the confined space wasn’t anything like running. I sort of wished I had time to take up track.
We finished the warm-up and Mr. Warren divided us into teams. Riley was on my team, and we huddled to discuss our plan of attack.
“My aim isn’t awesome,” I said. “I think I’d make a good point guard.”
“Same with me,” Riley said.
The rest of the girls chimed in with their thoughts, and when the whistle blew, we were ready.
• • •
Tweeeeet! Mr. Warren’s whistle blew, stopping all of us where we stood. Panting, I grinned and raised my hand, slapping palms with Kelsey. She’d just made the winning basket for my team!
“Wow, ladies. I’m impressed,” Mr. Warren said. “Both teams played equally hard, but Team A is the winner by two points!”
“Yay!”
“Woo-hoo!”
“Score!”
Happy exclamations came from my teammates as we hugged one another. Riley reached for me and we one-arm hugged. We’d played together on the court, guarding our shooters, and our efforts had definitely paid off.
“Nice! Free period for us!” Riley said to me.
I brushed stray, sweaty hair from my forehead. “So need it.”
We hugged the girls who had to stay and went back to the locker room to change.
It didn’t make sense for me to shower, since I had only one class after this before riding. I pulled out a pack of Yes to Cucumbers moist towelettes and wiped my face and neck. The scent was refreshing after gym, and I pulled a bottle of water from my bag and took a few sips.
• • •
I sat on the steps of the science building, glad Mr. Warren hadn’t made Team A stay in the gym. Science didn’t start for a few more minutes, so I pulled out my phone.
LaurBell: My team won in bball @ gym class! 2 bad @SwmerGuy wasn’t there 2 c.
I sent the update to Chatter and opened BBM.
Lauren:
Becs, miss u. How’s ur day? *hugs big sis*
Then I clicked on Drew’s name.
Lauren:
Hi. Hope ur Mon isn’t 2 bad. Got out of gym early. Wish I could skip sci & go riding now.
I exited the application and scrolled through Chatter updates. Buzz!
A new BBM alert appeared.
Drew:
Hey! 2day’s LONG. V cool abt gym. Score! I know abt wanting to skip. But we already did that once, remember? ;)
Lauren:
LOL. Kind of hard 2 4get. Sry ur day is dragging. 1 class 2 go, tho!
Drew:
I keep telling myself that. Want 2 groom & tack up 2gether?
My fingers paused over the buttons. Type something! I yelled at myself. Geez. He hadn’t asked me to prom or something.
Lauren:
Def! Meet u @ Polo’s stall?
Drew:
Sounds good. C u soon.
Even though I was going to see her in five minutes in class, I typed a message to Khloe.
Lauren:
! Drew just BBMed & asked if I wanted 2 groom & tack up 2gether b4 lesson.
I made sure the message was delivered, turned my phone on silent, and shouldered my bag. Now I couldn’t wait to get to class to see Khloe and Clare and talk about Drew.
YOU CALL THAT A WARM-UP?
“OMIGOD! JUST GO!” KHLOE SAID, LAUGHING. “Look at yourself!”
“What?” I asked, giggling. “I’m not doing anything. I’m waiting for you.”
We’d walked back from science class to our room, and Khloe was getting ready for her lesson. I’d changed a little faster and was standing by the door.
“Laaaureeen.”
“Um, okay.” I shot her a guilty smile. “I might be shifting from foot to foot. And talking nonstop really fast. And asking you every two seconds if you’re ready.”
Khloe laughed, pulling on a T-shirt. “You managed to get dressed, brush your hair, apply gloss and deodorant, and unpack your backpack in the time it usually takes you to get dressed.”
“So . . . ,” I said coyly.
Khloe shook out her hair. “So, I think someone wants to be at the stable with a boy, perhaps.”
I blushed. “I do. But I’m still waiting for you.”
“Nope. You’re going. Before I text Drew to come get you.” Khloe walked over, opened the door, and gestured to the hallway. She gently pushed my shoulder. “I’ll see you there! Go!”
“Okay, okay!” Laughing, I stepped into the hallway. I’d been driving poor Khloe crazy. But I knew she understood, since she’d just started seeing Zack—a très cute guy I’d met on my first day of school.
I forced myself to walk, not run, out of Hawthorne. You need some time to calm down, I told myself, or Drew will think you’ve had a million cups of green tea.
When I reached the stable area, it was already flooded with horses and riders. Each arena had someone doing something different. In the smallest arena, the beginner instructor had a group of students trotting in a circle around her. One of the arenas with dressage markers was in use by an older rider. Some students had horses tied to fence posts and tie rings, grooming them in the warm but not too hot sun.
There was no such thing as getting to the stable “early.”
Ever.
I picked up Whisper’s tack and ducked under occupied cross-ties as I walked to her stall.
“Hi, girly!” I said as I reached Whisper.
The mare’s head was over the stall door and her eyes were shut. They popped open at the sound of my voice. Whisper reached her neck toward me as I put down her tack and hurried to touch her muzzle.
“I missed you,” I said. “I’m so glad to see you.”
Whisper put her head over my shoulder, letting me hug her. She smelled like sweet, clean hay with a hint of the apple-cinnamon-flavored treats I gave her.
“Let me grab your stuff and we’re going to meet up with Polo and Drew,” I said. “Okay?”
I grabbed everything I needed and led Whisper down the aisle to Polo’s stall. It was near the front of the aisle, and some of the traffic from minutes earlier had cleared. Polo’s stall door opened, and Drew brought out the gelding, stopping him next to his tack trunk.
“Hey,” Drew said, smiling at me.
“Hi. And hey, Polo.” I reached forward and patted the blood bay’s neck.
“Want to take them outside?” Drew asked. “It’ll be quieter.”
I nodded. “Lexa showed me a good spot.”
“After you.” Drew let Whisper and me in front of him. I walked to the far side of the stable, which ran along the woods. There were only a few tie rings, and no one was using them. We tied the horses’ lead lines with slipknots, and I slid off t
he tack I’d perched on Whisper.
Drew and I started grooming, the vibe easy between us. He was wearing one of my fave colors on him—a fire-enginered tee. The color looked amaze against his pale skin.
“I wonder what we’ll work on today,” Drew said. “I’m glad we’re riding outside.”
“Me too. There are so many things I want to work on with Whisper before the show. It feels like it’s coming so fast.”
“I know. But I’m glad in a way. It’ll be one down. The first one of the season.”
I ran a rubber curry comb over Whisper’s shoulder in circles. “That’s the part that scares me. The ‘first’ one. One minute I’m ready and can’t wait to show on my horse, and the next I’m a nervous mess. I decided to show. No one’s making me. I shouldn’t be so freaked out.”
“You can’t control how you feel. I get why you’re nervous. But I also have seen you during lessons. You’re ready.”
I made sure Drew couldn’t see my face while he talked. I focused on Whisper’s barrel.
“Thanks,” I said. “That was nice.”
“Just being honest. If only you could forget it was a show and pretend it was a regular practice session.”
“If only,” I said, standing on tiptoes to peer over Whisper’s back at him. “Practicing will help me feel better.”
Drew and I ended up side by side as we curried Polo and Whisper. “If you ever want to ride together, let me know,” he said.
I smiled. “I will.”
“But don’t ask me to ride on, say, Friday night,” Drew said.
“Plans?”
“Hopefully.” He picked up a dandy brush. “Interested in hitting the new Chinese place with me?”
“That sounds great! I haven’t had Chinese since I got here.”
“Awesome,” Drew said, his blue eyes bright. “Now I’ve got something to look forward to this week.”
• • •
“Hello, class,” Mr. Conner said. He addressed the six of us lined up before him. Drew. Riley. Clare. Lexa. Cole. Me.
We greeted him. We’d gathered in the big outdoor arena, and Mr. Conner had been waiting.
“I came earlier than usual because I did not want you to warm up your horses,” Mr. Conner said. “We’re going to do that as a group today and work through warm-up techniques that I want to make sure you’re all applying to your warm-up sessions. Warming up correctly is the best way to ensure a good performance from horse and rider, and it also lowers the chance of injury to the horse.”
“Why is a proper warm-up essential?” he asked. He tucked his clipboard under his left arm, staring at us.
“It helps release tension, relaxes the horse and rider, and loosens up the horse’s muscles,” Cole answered.
“Good,” Mr. Conner said. “A strong warm-up also benefits the rider, which we will discuss in more detail later.”
“It also sort of sets the tone for the ride,” Clare said. “If the warm-up doesn’t go well, it can be difficult to have a good ride.”
“Great addition, Clare,” Mr. Conner said, nodding at her. He walked a few steps, stopping in front of Lexa. He smoothed his hunter-green polo with CCA stitched under the collar in gold thread. I wondered how many of those shirts he had.
“Not necessarily in order,” Mr. Conner said, “but what are some things a warm-up develops, Lexa? Think back to the reading I assigned last week.”
Lexa licked her bottom lip. You’ve got this, Lex, I tried to channel to her.
“It helps get the horse on the aids, helps with straightness and bending, establishes contact,” Lexa paused. “Oh! It also works on suppleness and balance.”
Mr. Conner smiled. “Excellent.”
Lexa smiled and I did too.
“Let’s put all these things we discussed to work. Walk your horses to the wall, and let’s run through a proper warm-up.”
“This is ridic,” Riley muttered, getting between Clare and me as we walked to the rail. “We’re showing next weekend and Mr. Conner wants to do a warm-up?”
“I kind of agree,” I said, my voice low. “Shouldn’t we be working on technique and things we’ll address in our show classes?”
“Right?!” Clare said with a slight shake of her head.
We spaced the horses along the wall—Cole first, followed by Drew, Lexa, Riley, Clare, and me.
Mr. Conner walked to the center of the arena. “In case any of you are worried,” he called, “I don’t expect you to find this lesson easy. If you do, please let me know.”
He had supersonic hearing. No doubt about it.
“Let’s begin with stretching down,” he called. “I want to see your horses stretch down and round. This will encourage relaxation and roundness, and will improve contact between horse and rider.”
I sat up a little straighter. This was one warm-up technique I was not familiar with.
Mr. Conner’s eyes followed us. “When done correctly, this will teach your mount to relax through his poll, back, and neck. It’ll encourage reaching for the bit, and therefore, good contact.”
I gave Whisper a little more rein, but kept loose contact with my legs and didn’t push her forward with my seat. She maintained a respectful distance behind Clare and Fuego. Ahead of us, the fire-colored gelding’s tail swished hard at his right side. I squinted and saw that Fuego was attempting to dislodge a horsefly. Clare, looking back and down, reached with her crop and ran it over Fuego’s hindquarters. Free of the fly, Fuego stopped his tail’s angry back-and-forth.
Mr. Conner explained the exercise a little more, and I wished I had a voice recorder. We’d just gotten started, and it was clear that I’d underestimated what he was going to teach us today.
“When you ask your horse to stretch down, you must feel that your horse is on the aids, is moving forward with roundness in the back, and is relaxed through the neck.”
“Cue your horse to continue moving forward,” Mr. Conner instructed. “Use your legs rhythmically and do the same though your seat.”
Whisper kept the same posture for several strides. I continued to apply the cues Mr. Conner suggested, careful not to push harder or ask for more. Whisper walked four more strides before I felt her head drop ever so slightly.
“Lauren, let your hands go with Whisper,” Mr. Conner said.
I dropped my hands a little and Whisper stretched her neck, pulling the reins forward. I moved my hands with her.
“Should I give her more rein?” I asked Mr. Conner, not breaking my gaze through Whisper’s ears.
“Only slightly,” he answered. “If you give her too much rein, the contact will be broken.”
I barely heard Mr. Conner offer suggestions to my teammates. Sweat ran down my back, and I’d never felt more focused on maintaining the contact I had with Whisper. The mare lowered and stretched her gray neck a bit more, and I allowed a small bit of rein to ease through my fingers. Whisper had never been this relaxed and connected to me during a lesson. Both of her gray ears alternated flicking back to me for instruction, all her attention on me.
“Chewing the bit is completely acceptable, Riley,” Mr. Conner told her. “Adonis is doing everything you ask.”
“Wonderful, everyone,” he called after a few more minutes. “Now, keep up the rhythm with leg aids and your seat, but ease your horse back to a normal frame. Shorten the reins as seamlessly as possible.”
Mr. Conner pushed us through warm-up techniques throughout the rest of the class. It felt more like an advanced class than a “warm-up”! When he raised his hand, signaling us to stop, every muscle in my legs, back, and arms burned. Whisper’s coat had darkened from sweat and she wasn’t alone—the other horses had sweated too.
“Great session, everyone,” Mr. Conner said. “Cool down your horses and I’ll see you tomorrow in the indoor arena. Thank you for working hard.”
Our instructor headed for the exit. We all looked at one another. Mr. Conner had just left a very tired group of warmed-up horses and riders.
/> BE OUR GUEST
BY THURSDAY, I’D BARELY TAKEN A BREATH from school and riding. I’d just finished French and was on my way to fashion. Khloe and I hadn’t seen much of each other all week. We’d done our homework together most nights and had fallen asleep before lights-out.
After riding and glee on Wednesday, we’d met up with Clare, Riley, Drew, Zack, Lexa, Cole, and Jill in one of the media center’s cozy rooms to study. The precious minutes Khloe and I’d had to talk, we’d complained how we had zero time to see our guys. Khloe had just started dating Zack, and they’d both been too busy to go out all week.
“It’s, like, life is so against us!” Khloe had said. “And sharing a class with him does not count!”
I’d agreed. At least I had my Friday date with Drew to focus on. But by the end of the study session, Khloe had a Friday night date too! Zack had asked her out, and now Khloe and I could spend Friday evening getting ready together.
I stepped into Ms. Snow’s classroom for fashion, shaking thoughts of Drew from my mind.
I sat next to Cole, my friend and partner for our upcoming project.
“You’re never almost late,” Cole said, his light-brown eyebrows raised. “Everything okay?”
“I lost track of time,” I said. “I started thinking about all the stuff that’s happened this week, and apparently, snails passed me on the way here.”
Cole laughed. He slid off his gray blazer and hung it over the back of his chair, revealing a collared black button-down shirt with skinny stripes that matched the color of the blazer.
I glanced down at my own clothes: skinny jeans in need of hitting the laundry and a petal-pink capped-sleeve T-shirt.
“I feel so frumpy next to you,” I said.
Cole rolled his green eyes. “Stop. You look great.”
“This morning I was too tired to even care that I put on already-worn jeans.”
Cole scooted his chair away from me. “Well, that changes things.”
“Cole!”
He grinned, then laughed. He moved back over, and we giggled together.
Ms. Snow walked into the classroom. Unlike the other Canterwood teachers, she dressed to match her class. Red-bottomed Louboutins couldn’t be mistaken for any other shoe. A white boatneck shirt was tucked into high-waisted flared black pants.
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