I pulled on my boots and stopped in front of the full-length mirror. Side by side, Khloe and I put our hair into low twists. Minutes later, we’d grabbed our helmets and were out the door.
• • •
Campus was crawling with different horses and riders. Trailers and vans filled the parking lot. Horses unfamiliar with Canterwood let out shrill neighs that elicited responses from other horses. A WELCOME banner hanging above the main entrance greeted the four schools in attendance. Mr. Conner had enlisted help from the older riders to hang the banner.
Today Canterwood was facing off against Regent Country Day, St. Agnes Academy, and Sterling Preparatory. I’d purposely not Googled the schools or looked up their riding teams. I wanted to go in not knowing the competition. In my mind, each school trained as hard as Canterwood. True or not, I didn’t know.
Mike and Doug directed the guests where to go. I was so glad not to be one of them. Being on home turf comforted me more than I’d imagined.
Sunlight had started to cast a light glow over the grounds. The early October air was slightly chilly, but the forecast had called for a warmer afternoon. Mr. Conner couldn’t have picked a more ideal show date if he’d tried.
Khloe and I were quiet as we went to the tack room for our gear. We hugged, and I squeezed her extra hard.
“We’ll run into each other all the time,” she said. “Remember, the show won’t last all day. I’ll try to make it to your classes, I promise. If you hear someone in the stands yelling, ‘Lauren Towers is my bestie and roomie! YAY!’ then you know I’m there.”
I laughed. “What about if you just kept that to yourself? I’d like to keep you in the stands and not tossed out for cheering.”
Khloe grinned. “We’ll see. Good luck, but you don’t need it.”
“You too.”
We hugged again and split up.
I sidestepped horses and riders and scrambled around tack, grooming kits, and boots to get to Whisper. Schedules for today’s classes were posted everywhere. My dressage class was my first, and I had a break before trail class. I could watch Khloe and Ever do dressage while I waited for my trail class to start.
“Morning, sweetie,” I said, peering into her stall.
Though it was incredibly early, the mare was awake. Her eyes were wide open, and gray ears flicked back and forth at the unusually high sound level in the stable.
I entered the stall and hugged Whisper. Her coat was soft and shiny as I ran my hands along her neck. The extra grooming I’d done showed.
“You look beyond beautiful,” I said. “Thank you for not lying down last night.”
Whisper’s gray coat was as clean as when I’d left her. Her braids were in tight knots, and the braid in her tail looked as if I’d just done it.
“We’re going to stay in your stall while we get you ready,” I said. “It’s too busy out there.”
I didn’t want to take the chance of any unfamiliar horses making Whisper nervous.
“Knock, knock,” a soft voice said. Lexa peeked her head into the stall, smiling at me. “Morning.”
“Early enough for you?” I asked.
Lexa groaned. “Don’t even mention the time, please. How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I said. “I don’t want to stay in the stable too long and give myself a chance to stall.”
“Smart. Maybe grab a free spot in one of the arenas and warm up?”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“I’m going to get ready too. I’m glad our dressage class is first so we can get it over with. Then we’ll be able to relax and have fun with the trail class. It’s so cool that we get to ride English and not Western for the class.”
“I know. Otherwise, I would have taken a pleasure class.”
Lexa said she’d see me at our first class and went to focus on Honor. I turned my attention back to Whisper. It didn’t take long to groom her already shiny coat. I tacked her up, applied fly spray, and painted her hooves with clear polish. Phase one: complete.
TIME’S UP
DURING THE WARM-UP, I APPLIED THE NEW techniques Mr. Conner had taught my class this week. I ignored the swirl of black, gray, chestnut, and other colors of horses around us. All my focus was on Whisper. She was responding in return by listening to each cue. If this was all we did today, I’d be proud. I was back, and I had Whisper with me. I’d spotted Clare and Cole in another arena. I’d started to look for Riley, then I remembered.
I sat deep in the saddle, trotting her toward the arena exit. In the other, bigger arena, the obstacles for the trail course had already been set up.
In the smaller arena, dressage markers were in place. I couldn’t wait to begin. Bleachers had been set up on the outside of the fence for students and riders who wanted to watch whatever class was happening in the arena. Four judges, three women and a man, readied piles of papers and pulled out chairs to sit at the banquet table that was up against the arena fence.
“Hey! Watch it!”
A horse bumped against Whisper’s hindquarters.
“What are you doing?” I said, edging Whisper over. “There’s plenty of room!”
A brunette on a bay tugged on her horse’s reins, yanking the horse over. “Apparently, our definitions of ‘room’ are seriously different.”
I wasn’t going to argue with her. It wasn’t worth it—I’d learned that a long time ago. I eased Whisper to a walk and let the horse and rider get well ahead of us before we followed them out of the arena.
Riders were allowed to stay in the warm-up arena, but Mr. Conner, Mike, and Doug signaled to everyone else to exit the spaces that were about to be used for show.
Classes.
Were.
Starting.
A voice I didn’t recognize announced the start of the advanced show-jumping class and called for riders to report to the arena immediately.
Mr. Conner put a loudspeaker to his mouth. “May I please have all the competitors for the intermediate dressage class in the arena marked with the number three? Again, all riders for the intermediate dressage class, please report now to arena three.”
I walked Whisper toward Mr. Conner, watching as a few other riders headed in the same direction. I smiled, breathing a little easier, when Lexa and Honor popped into view. We halted on the side of the entrance, and I counted ten other riders joining us.
Lexa and I didn’t speak—I imagined she was focusing too.
I didn’t allow myself to spend much time watching the guys and girls around me. That was something Old Lauren would have done. Canterwood Lauren stayed focused on her horse.
“Welcome, everyone,” Mr. Conner said. He’d put the loudspeaker on a nearby table. “For those of you who are not Canterwood students, I’m honored to have you, your horses, and your instructors here. Each of you here has signed up for the intermediate dressage class.”
I stroked Whisper’s neck. My eyes caught a chestnut striking the grass with a foreleg, blowing a breath through his nostrils.
“The order has been set, and a judge will call your name when it’s time for your test,” Mr. Conner continued. “If you did not memorize your test, please let me know before entering the arena and I will make sure a caller is in place.”
“While waiting for your turn, please feel free to walk your horse in this area.” Mr. Conner waved to it with his hand. “But refrain from loud talking or cell phone use. When your name is called, please head for the arena entrance. I wish each of you the best, and it’s time to begin.”
Time to begin. Those words rolled around in my brain. It was time to begin my first show since Red Oak. No. My first show as a Canterwood Crest Academy student.
“Jenny Kai and Striker,” the male judge called. A girl in a white blouse rode a liver chestnut to the entrance.
“Do you want to watch each test?” Lexa whispered. “Or walk a few steps away and get out of the crowd?”
“Let’s move a little. Then we can watch and talk if we want.”
/> Lexa and I walked Honor and Whisper to the designated waiting spot that Mr. Conner had pointed out earlier. It was within hearing distance when the judges called our names, and close enough to watch the dressage tests.
“Much better,” I said. “Now I don’t feel like I’m in the arena.”
“Or feel trapped among the other riders, who are sure to start gossiping, I mean bashing each other, any second.” Lexa rolled her eyes.
We waited, talking on and off, as riders were called into the arena for their tests. I went between watching parts of tests and talking to Lexa. Some riders exited with frowns as soon as the judges couldn’t see. Some left with smiles. Others had blank expressions.
“Lexa Reed and Honor,” Mr. Conner called.
I jumped in the saddle at hearing my friend’s name.
“That’s you!” I said. “I mean, obviously!”
Lexa laughed. “It is me. Okay. Wish me luck!”
“Good luck! You’re going to kill it, Lex.”
With a parting smile, Lexa cued Honor forward. The strawberry roan gleamed—her mix of red and white hair had been washed and brushed until not a speck of dust was left. Lexa looked like a pro in her black helmet, a brick-red blouse, black breeches, and tall boots.
She halted Honor at the entrance. I crossed my fingers, wishing her a good ride. Lexa was not my competition today. The only rider I was competing with was myself.
Lexa walked Honor to the center of the arena, halted, and saluted the judges. As she moved through her test, gliding from marker to marker, my fingers uncrossed. Lexa didn’t need luck—she was brilliant. Honor’s circles were even, she changed gaits the second Lexa asked her to, and Lexa didn’t forget one movement of the test. She stopped Honor in the center, dipped her head again, and rode out of the arena.
I walked Whisper forward so we met before Lex reached our spot.
“That was gorgeous!” I said, high-fiving her.
Grinning, Lexa patted Honor’s neck. “Thanks! I think we did well for our first show of the season.”
“You did more than ‘well.’ I’m so proud of you. Your scores will be great.”
We watched the judge’s table, and I squinted to see if I could read any of their facial expressions to get a hint of how Lexa had done.
Mr. Conner took a sheet of paper from the judge at the end and raised the bullhorn to his mouth.
Lexa reached out and grasped my hand. We squeezed them tight.
“The score for Lexa Reed of Canterwood Crest Academy is . . . thirty-two points!”
“Yes!” I said. “Lex! That’s so low—it’s awesome! You barely made any mistakes.”
Lexa rubbed Honor’s neck. “Good job, girl. I’m so proud of you. And thanks, LT! I’m really—”
“Next, we have Lauren Towers on Whisper!” Mr. Conner’s voice boomed through the megaphone, cutting off Lexa.
“Now it’s you,” she said, smiling. “You’ve got this, Lauren. Go show off your horse!”
I stared at her. My mouth went dry. “I—I—”
Lexa locked eyes with me. “You are going to perform the test you know backward and forward. You’ll be exiting the arena wishing your test was longer. I know it!”
I don’t know if it was something she said, or strength from Whisper, or a combination of the two, but I smiled. A real smile.
“See you in a few,” I said, taking a breath.
I squeezed my legs against Whisper’s sides, and she walked toward the arena. She felt ready. The question was—was I?
IT’S ON
I PAUSED WHISPER AT THE ARENA ENTRANCE. Thoughts of scoring and points left my head. I could guide my horse, but I couldn’t control her. It was our first judged test together, and however we did today, we’d do better next time. All I wanted was to enter the arena on my horse and give it our all.
I squeezed my legs against Whisper’s sides, and we entered at a working trot. At X, the center of the arena, I brought her to a halt. She didn’t stop square, but her response was immediate. I saluted the judges, and we proceeded to C at a working trot. With each stride, Whisper’s body settled into the test. I wondered if she’d memorized it too.
When we reached C, she made a parfait twenty-meter circle to B. Through K, X, and M, I changed rein and guided Whisper to a working trot.
She acted as if she knew what I wanted before I asked. Each movement was fluid, and there was no hesitation. I forgot about the audience. The judges disappeared. Even Mr. Conner wasn’t present. It was just Whisper and me doing what I loved and what Whisper was clearly meant to do.
We moved through several more movements and reached C again. Between C and M, Whisper got to shine with a working canter on the left lead. She shook out her mane, snorting happily. It would add points to our score, but I didn’t care. Whisper was enjoying herself, and it showed.
We finished the remainder of our moves—another circle, a free walk, a medium walk—and made our way back to X.
There was nothing that could keep the smile off my face. I halted Whisper and saluted the judges, beaming. Whisper and I left the arena, and I couldn’t reach Lexa—and Khloe!—fast enough.
“LAUREN!” Khloe yelled.
“Shhh!” Lexa and I said, giggling.
“Omigod, that was amazing!” Khloe said, her voice lower. “You both performed like, like—I don’t even know!”
My face got hot. “Thanks, Khlo. That means a lot!”
“Seriously, Lauren,” Lexa said. “You just torpedoed my score.”
“Doubtful,” I said. “I can say for the first time ever that I wasn’t thinking about points the entire time. I’m so happy right now, because it’s over! There’s no ‘first show after Red Oak’ looming over me anymore.”
Khloe and Lauren smiled.
“That must feel so good,” Khloe said.
The megaphone crackled. “The score for Lauren Towers is . . . twenty-nine and a half,” Mr. Conner announced.
“Told you!” Lexa said, lightly punching my arm. “I’m so happy for you!”
I couldn’t believe it. Explanations about the scoring ran through my head. It was a schooling show. Judges weren’t adding points as harshly.
Stop. So what if it’s a schooling show and you don’t know how the judges are scoring. You have a twenty-nine and a half!
I got out of my own head and stopped trying to talk myself out of counting my good score as “real.”
Khloe, Lauren, and I stayed together while we waited for the remaining riders to finish. We talked, making it impossible to hear scores. And I didn’t try to listen.
“I’ve got my break after this,” I said. “And obviously, so does Lex.”
“Perf!” Khloe said. “I get two cheerleaders while I do my dressage test.”
“I can’t wait to watch you ride,” I said.
“Me either,” Lexa added.
I rubbed Whisper’s shoulder. “Now I’m insanely excited about our trail class later,” I said to Lex. “Dressage was the one thing that was making me crazy nervous. The next class will be fun.”
“The final rider for this intermediate dressage class has been given his score,” Mr. Conner said from the center of the arena. “The judges are taking a final look at the individual scores to determine placement for this class.”
Lexa and I looked at each other. “All I know is that you’re ahead of me,” Lex said. “I didn’t hear another score. Did you?”
I shook my head. “Not one.”
I waited for the feeling of nerves to hit. The anticipation of where I placed. The excitement or disappointment that would come with it. But my hands didn’t sweat. I didn’t scream at the judges in my head, wishing they’d hurry. I just waited. I was proud of my horse, and no matter what, completing my first class since my accident felt like I’d won a giant trophy.
“We have the final scores,” Mr. Conner said. “If your name is called, please come into the arena for your ribbon.”
Lexa, Khloe, and I held hands.
Cheers and clapping broke out from the bleachers. A slight blonde on a leggy black gelding rode into the arena to await her ribbon.
“In second place,” Mr. Conner said, “Lexa Reed on Honor from Canterwood Crest Academy!”
“YAY!” Khloe and I cheered.
“Omigod!” Lexa said. She grinned, looking back and forth between Khloe and me. “Yes! Omigod!”
She trotted Honor into the arena, stopping her next to Madison and Avery.
Khloe grasped my hand. “You’ve got this, Laur.”
“We don’t know that yet,” I whispered.
Mr. Conner put the megaphone to his mouth again.
“And in first place . . . congratulations to Lauren Towers and Whisper from Canterwood Crest Academy!”
I didn’t move. It was as if I hadn’t heard Mr. Conner.
“Laur? Lauren! Omigod! You won!” Khloe shook my arm.
I looked at her. Mr. Conner’s words weren’t registering. Neither were Khloe’s.
“You’re in shock,” she said. She leaned closer to me. “Lauren Towers, you won first place.”
Then it hit me. All of it.
I’d shown.
There hadn’t been an accident.
I’d ridden my own horse.
I hadn’t let the days I missed stop me from backing out.
Leaning down, I hugged Whisper’s neck, crying and laughing at the same time. I looked up and saw a rider standing in his stirrups on the other side of the arena. Drew put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Laughing, I waved at him.
“Go! Get your ribbon!” Khloe said, laughing.
It felt like a dream as I started Whisper toward the shiny blue ribbon. It was official: Our journey on the show circuit had begun.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Twenty-five-year-old Jessica Burkhart (aka Jess Ashley) writes from Brooklyn, New York. She’s obsessed with sparkly things, lip gloss, and listening to Lady Gaga. She loves hanging with her bestie, watching too much TV, and purse shopping. Learn more about Jess at JessicaBurkhart.com. Find everything Canterwood Crest at CanterwoodCrest.com.
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