Take the Reins

by Jessica Burkhart

  “Good boy,” I whispered as we turned a corner and headed for the plastic wall. If we could keep this up, we’d be in good shape. Charm rocketed off his back legs and propelled over the fake brick wall. His body pointed toward an in-and-out and he popped over both jumps. I kept my eyes focused between Charm’s ears. Sensing my slight pressure on the reins, he slowed his fast pace into a rocking, smooth canter.

  We headed for the final brush jump.

  Charm tucked his legs neatly under his body and we soared over it. He eased into a trot and we circled around to Mr. Conner. Charm’s heavy bursts of breath matched mine. We’d had a good ride.

  “Nice job,” Mr. Conner said when Charm halted in front of him. He motioned for me to dismount and, holding Charm’s leather reins in my hands, I locked eyes with Mr. Conner.

  “Thank you.” My hands trembled as I took off my helmet. Charm shifted beside me. Mr. Conner looked down at his clipboard and scribbled a few notes. He flipped through his notebook, and then closed the cover and looked at me.

  “For being the newest member on the team, you have a remarkably strong seat, a willing horse, and a nice jumping style. If you’re committed to practicing every day and attending all meetings on time, I’m starting you off in the intermediate class. You’ll attend lessons with Group A: Julia, Alison, Nicole, Heather, and Callie.”

  Intermediate! I could barely keep myself from dancing right there in the middle of the arena. “Thank you so much! Mr. Conner, you won’t be disappointed.”

  “Make sure I’m not,” he said and gave me a brief smile. He headed out of the arena to tell the next girl it was time to test. When he left, I turned to the skybox and grinned up at Heather, Julia, and Alison.

  “See you at practice!” I called up to them.

  Heather’s face reddened. The other girls’ eyes narrowed.

  Perfect payback.

  I skipped all the way back to Charm’s stall. We were officially part of the team! People would count on us and we had to do our best for the group.

  Clipping him in crossties, I removed his sweaty tack and took him for a cooling walk. It was the perfect temperature for a Sunday stroll, windy but warm. “You were perfect,” I told him. “You knew exactly what to do. You could have done the course without me.”

  I released Charm into his stall after our walk and headed out. I spotted a glass case on my way. I looked closer. Trophies, medals, and ribbons from the Canterwood Riding Team filled every inch of space. A glossy wooden board with gold plaques hung beside the case. Each plaque had a name inscribed on it.

  I stood in silence, staring at the glittering case. Charm and I could make it to the Rolex Kentucky—a pre-Olympic event—one day if we worked hard enough, I knew it. With one last glance at the case, I left the stable and dialed home from my cell.

  “Intermediate!” I screamed into the phone when Dad answered. “Can you believe that?”

  “Oh, Sasha! Wow!” Dad said. “I’m so proud of you!”

  “I have a shot at the advanced team now,” I said.

  “Always looking ahead, huh?” Dad laughed. “Well, I’d hand the phone to Mom, but she just ran to the store. I won’t spoil your news. I’ll have her call you tonight and you can tell her then.”

  When I got back to the dorm, Paige wasn’t there. My stomach rumbled. I was too hungry to wait for her to come back before I ate. What was I going to do every time Paige couldn’t go with me? Starve?

  I inhaled and exhaled, the way my yoga DVD had taught me—except for the whole breathing-into-your-center thing. What did that even mean, anyway?

  A few minutes of yoga breathing and two coats of kiwi lip gloss later, I found myself in line for a burger, fries, and soda.

  I scanned the cafeteria. There was no one from Winchester or the riding team anywhere. Then I spotted an empty chair at a table near a big window where only one girl was sitting. When I got a few steps closer, I realized it was Livvie. Sitting with Livvie had to be better than sitting alone, right?

  “Can I sit here?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she said, barely looking up from her wilted salad. “How are things so far?” she asked.

  “Okay. I had my first riding team meeting today,” I said. I thought about telling her how Heather tricked me, but decided it was safer not to.

  Livvie smiled and offered me a carrot stick, which I took. “Don’t worry,” she soothed. “Work hard, and you’ll be rewarded. Besides, everyone will do well this semester because we’re all going to study, study, study! Right?”

  Right.

  When we finished our food, Livvie said, “Well, I better get back to the dorm. See you later!” She gave me a quick smile and got up from the table with her tray in hand.

  I tossed my wadded napkin on my tray and headed for the exit. On my way out, I passed a group of guys when I noticed that one of them was the Zac Efron look-alike I’d seen outside my window my first day here!

  I wanted to smile at him as I walked by, but I couldn’t. A group of giggling girls walked by me and I followed behind them out of the cafeteria. The guy didn’t notice me anyway. But maybe next time, I wouldn’t be so tongue-tied.

  After all—Union Sasha was shy around guys, but Canterwood Sasha didn’t have to be.

  7

  BEGINNER’S LUCK

  ON MONDAY MORNING, PAIGE AND I WERE OUT of the dorm by seven thirty. We both had our first class in the English building.

  I looked at my schedule for the millionth time: English, biology, algebra, Spanish, history.

  “Good luck,” Paige said, before disappearing into a classroom down the hall.

  “You, too,” I whispered after her. I took one final deep yoga breath in, deep breath out, and walked into Room 307.

  I scanned the room for an empty desk. A cluster of desks near the front of the room was empty, so I snagged one. Whew. If only I didn’t have to change rooms.

  I pulled a notebook and pen out of my backpack and looked up at the mile-long list of textbooks taped to the dry erase board. Union Middle School hadn’t been nearly as demanding as Canterwood. I’d known that before I’d even arrived on campus—the glossy, official-looking welcome packet I’d gotten with my acceptance letter was covered with the words “academic excellence,” “high standards,” “best,” and “brightest.” But sitting here now, staring at the list of books I’d be reading for my first Canterwood class, it felt much more real—and, honestly, much more intimidating. I’d never seen such a reading list! To Kill a Mockingbird, Jane Eyre, The River Between Us—the list went on and on.

  “Hey, Sasha,” Callie said, sliding into a seat next to me.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling. Thank God it was Callie and not Heather!

  Callie set her binder down on her desk. It was bright yellow, covered with star and moon stickers. “Do you want to trail ride after class?” she asked.

  “That’d be great.” I knew Charm would be happy to get out of the stable.

  “Good morning,” Mr. Davidson said as he entered the room. “I’m Mr. Davidson and you’ll be stuck with me this year for English. Go ahead and copy down the reading list and then we’ll get started.”

  While everyone finished copying down the list, Mr. Davidson set up a CD player and opened a CD case. He selected a disc and placed it in the player.

  “Since it’s only our first day, let’s read aloud and then analyze the first few pages of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. Who would like to read?”

  Raise your hand, I told myself. Slowly, my hand went up.

  Mr. Davidson smiled. “We have our first volunteer! Your name?” he asked.

  “Sasha Silver.” My voice was soft and wobbly. For a second, I wondered if Mr. Davidson had even heard me.

  “Thank you, Sasha. Now, while you read, I’m going to play a bit of classical music in the background. Listen to the music and try to pace your reading with the rhythm of the music.”

  I looked around. My old UMS teachers had never done anything like that before
.

  “Okay,” I said. I took a deep breath and started to read. “‘Serene’ was a word you could put to Brooklyn, New York…,” In the background, a light classical melody, with piano and violin, filled the room. The music was relaxing. A few sentences later, my breathing fell into rhythm with the music.

  “Very nice, Sasha,” Mr. Davidson said when I paused at the end of the paragraph. “Did you hear how different Sasha sounded once she adjusted to the music?”

  The class nodded.

  “Who would like to read next?” Mr. Davidson asked.

  A girl in the front row raised her hand and started to read the next paragraph. Callie slipped a folded pink Post-it into my lap. I glanced up to be sure Mr. Davidson wasn’t looking; when he wasn’t, I opened the note. Good job. .

  I grinned and wrote her back in purple ink. Thanks!

  At the end of class, Callie and I loaded up our backpacks. “I’ve got biology with Ms. Peterson next,” I said. “You?”

  “Health with Mr. Henner. He’s supposed to be tough.” Callie wrinkled her nose. “Catch you later.”

  We split up in the hallway and I headed over to the science building. Instead of desks, the biology classroom had white lab tables, sinks, and microscopes. The air smelled like rubbing alcohol. I was the first one in the classroom, so I sat at a table in the center of the room. The rest of the class trickled in and I sighed with relief when the door closed and I didn’t see Heather.

  Then the door swung open, and Julia and Alison stepped inside, carrying matching pink bags. It was weird to see them without Heather. They both narrowed their eyes at me before taking a seat at the table across from me.

  A short woman with dark hair swept back into a ballet bun entered the classroom and stood at the podium. “I’m Ms. Peterson and this is biology. Please get out a sheet of paper and a pen.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I’m going to be asking you twenty-five questions. If you answer the majority of the questions correctly, it will be a good indication to me that you’ve done your summer reading. If not, you’ll have lots of catching up to do.”

  Summer reading had been intense. I hadn’t been able to make a dent in my fun book pile because I’d read school books all summer. I didn’t even finish writing my name before Ms. Peterson began. “Question one: Name the six kingdoms.”

  My hand froze over my paper. I’d read about the kingdoms this summer but I had absolutely no clue how many of them there were! Pencils and pens scratched around me. Plant, I wrote. The girl next to me smiled at her paper and looked up at Ms. Peterson.

  “Question two,” Ms. Peterson said.

  I sneaked a glance at Julia and Alison. They were looking at Ms. Peterson, calmly waiting for the next question.

  “Define photosynthesis,” Ms. Peterson said.

  I knew that one! I wrote down the definition, hoping that maybe the first question was the hardest. But as the questions continued, I knew I was in trouble.

  “Please pass your quizzes forward,” Ms. Peterson said, finally.

  I handed my paper over to Julia; she held it and looked at my answers. She passed it over to Alison and they both snickered. Julia looked at me with one perfectly plucked eyebrow arched. Loser, she mouthed.

  At least I knew the answer to one question: Least favorite class? Biology, hands down.

  Back at the dorm, I dropped my book bag—which weighed about as much as a Falabella horse—and changed for my riding lesson.

  I couldn’t believe I’d failed my first quiz. I’d never failed anything in my life—not even a pop quiz!

  Ms. Peterson had loaded us up with lots of homework. When I got back from riding lessons, I’d be studying the rest of the night.

  My phone rang right as I was headed out the door.

  “Hi, honey,” Mom said. “How was your first day of classes?” Her voice made me smile. It was babyish, but I still missed my parents.

  “It was okay,” I said. There was no way I was telling her about the quiz. “But I was just headed out for practice.”

  “Okay, we’ll catch up later. And honey,” she said in her best Mom voice, “just remember that it takes time to get used to things.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until I heard her voice.

  After I hung up, I looked at myself in the mirror. I smoothed stress-relieving mint gloss over my lips and told my reflection that there was lots of time to make up for the quiz grade in bio.

  At the stables, I unlatched Charm’s stall door.

  Callie was crouched behind Charm in the corner by his blue water bucket. She stood and held a finger up to her lips in a “shhh” motion.

  When I stepped inside, she pulled the stall door shut behind me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “You have to keep an eye on your tack,” she whispered. Her dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail and she looked like she had been scrubbing tack for hours. Yellow saddle soap caked on her hands and wrists and a few streaks of soap were on her face.

  “My saddle and bridle?” I asked. “Why?”

  “Heather has been lurking around the tack room all day. I’d watch your stuff. She’s in an especially nasty mood.”

  “Did Heather do something to your tack?” I asked.

  Callie grinned sheepishly. “No, mine was just dirty. But it seems like she’s out for you.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “What’s her problem?”

  Callie stepped away from me and peered over Charm’s stall door, as though making sure Heather wasn’t within earshot.

  “I’ll tell you about it on the trail ride. We’re still on for later, right?”

  “Right after practice.”

  Callie tiptoed out of the stall and headed to tack up her horse.

  I’d thought the flier trick would have been payback enough from Heather. I left Charm and went to the tack room to get his gear.

  The tack room’s wooden door was ajar—voices came from inside.

  “She can’t help where Mr. Conner placed her,” said a voice that sounded like Julia’s. “What can we do about it?”

  “She’s better than I thought.” Another voice—sour and forceful. Heather. “We can’t let her take a spot on the advanced level. Only five students from our grade can have a spot on the advanced team. And I have to be one of them.”

  “Of course you’ll get a spot, Heather,” Alison said. “She’s in over her head. She totally failed the bio quiz today, too. Julia and I saw. This is Canterwood; she’ll be packing for Hicksville by the end of the month.”

  “Of course she will,” Heather agreed. “But I’m not taking any chances. We deserve those seats, not her.”

  I couldn’t stand there and listen to this anymore. I pushed open the door. Julia and Alison stared at me from the corner of the room and didn’t say a word. But Heather took one step toward me and crossed her long, slender arms over her chest.

  “Sasha,” Heather purred. “Have you been spying on us?”

  “No,” I said, my cheeks burning. “Look, Heather, I—”

  “Save it, Silver,” Heather spat. “You think you’re so great just because you made the intermediate team?”

  Julia and Alison smiled behind Heather.

  “Beginner’s luck,” Julia said.

  Heather laughed. “Seriously?” she continued, jutting her hip to one side. “You’re wasting your time. If I were you, I wouldn’t even bother showing up for practice.”

  One by one, each member of the Trio brushed past me and sauntered out the door.

  Alone with the saddles, bridles and saddle pads, I checked every piece of my gear. Nothing seemed to have been moved. My saddle girth was in place, the strap on my helmet wasn’t loose and Charm’s bridle was untouched.

  Charm stood quietly as I rubbed his shoulder and tacked him up. I led him to our first practice session, forcing myself to walk with my chin up. Inside the ring, Callie was warming up. Charm watched, with ears pricked f
orward, and looked at the new horse. On my tiptoes, I scratched between his ears, and Charm lowered his head so I didn’t have to stretch.

  “Charm looks good,” Nicole said, riding up beside me. “He’s a Thoroughbred mix, right?”

  Charm flexed his neck, as though from her compliment. He liked people to know about his Thoroughbred blood. “Yeah,” I said. “What’s yours?” I hopped into the saddle and looked at Nicole.

  “Hanoverian,” she said

  Mr. Conner entered the arena and we started to line up the horses in the center. Nicole leaned over and whispered, “Welcome to the team.” I shot her a grin and quickly turned my attention to Mr. Conner. I could feel Heather’s eyes on me from across the arena, but I didn’t lose focus during the entire hour-and-a-half session. Not once.

  8

  TRAIL RIDING AND DAYDREAMING

  “THIS IS THE BEST PART OF THE TRAIL,” CALLIE said, looking over the hill.

  Charm slowed and Callie pulled her gelding, Black Jack, next to me. Black Jack was a Morab—a black Arabian and Morgan mix.

  The rolling Connecticut hills boasted a forest with millions of green leaves tinged with red and gold, hinting that autumn was near.

  This part of the trail reminded me of the woods behind Briar Creek where Charm and I had gone every week. Charm loved exploring the dirt paths that snaked around Kim’s property. If we went out early in the morning and waited by one of the field’s edges, we sometimes found a herd of deer. The deer seemed to like Charm; if I sat still, they’d stare at him for minutes.

  Callie turned Black Jack as he picked his way down a rocky path littered with broken twigs and pinecones.

  “How long have you been riding at Canterwood?” I asked.

  Callie steadied Jack. “Since I started middle school in sixth grade. But if Canterwood would have had an elementary school, I would have so been here. I rode for the New England Saddle Club before this.”

  “I’ve heard of them. Did you ever do an event in Worthington?” I asked.