“Thirteen!” an elderly woman called.
“Fifteen hundred,” the first man said, not waiting for the auctioneer and thrusting his paddle into the air.
After a few minutes of back and forth, India’s bid rose to four thousand dollars!
“Oh, my God,” I whispered to Callie.
“Unbelievable,” she said. We squeezed hands and tried not to scream as we walked India around the ring. It felt like I had whiplash from turning my head every time someone in the audience made a bid.
“Four thousand going once,” the announcer called. “Four thousand going twice. Sold for four thousand dollars to paddle number eighty-five!”
A white-haired woman who had made one of the first bids won. She hugged a man next to her and waved at Callie and me. Any worries I had about India getting a good family evaporated.
“Bye, India,” I said. “You’re going to a good home.” Callie and I kissed India’s muzzle and handed her off to one of the center’s grooms. We skipped out of the ring and headed for the exit.
Callie draped her arm across my shoulders. “Can you believe that?” she asked.
“India’s worth every cent,” I said, grinning.
We hung by the door and watched as Julia and Heather stood in the center of the arena and led Sahara, clothed in the fairy costume, around in a circle.
Sahara’s buckskin coat showed off the outfit, almost better than India had, and the bids stalled at three grand. Julia brought the horse to a halt and the crowd peered forward to see what was going on. Heather positioned herself in front of Sahara and stuck out her hand. “Shake,” she commanded clearly. Sahara lifted her right front leg off the ground and placed her hoof in Heather’s outstretched hand.
The crowd burst into cheers. “Thirty-five hundred!” a man called from the crowd.
“I have thirty-five hundred, do I hear thirty-six?” The auctioneer took control of the excited crowd.
“Brilliant,” I whispered to Callie.
Bids were flying so fast we could barely keep up.
“Sold!” The auctioneer banged his gavel. “Sold for four thousand to paddle number seven!”
Heather and Julia high-fived and rubbed Sahara’s shoulders. A young girl, maybe six or seven, made her way into the arena. In one hand, she clutched a woman’s hand and in the other, she held paddle number seven. Heather leaned over and whispered to the girl. The girl’s black curls bounced as she stepped up to Sahara and patted her shoulder. While Julia held Sahara, Heather swooped up the girl and placed her on Sahara’s back. The woman beamed and took the group’s picture. I’d never seen Heather like this!
Heather and her little caravan headed our way. Sahara pranced in her fairy costume and Callie and I parted so Heather could lead the horse through the doorway.
“Nice job,” I said, expecting Heather and Julia to snip back.
“Thanks,” Heather said. She grinned and looked back at the little girl playing with Sahara’s mane.
Callie and I widened our eyes. “Let’s go before she takes it back,” Callie whispered.
We left the auction giggling. Maybe Heather knew how to be nice after all.
21
IT’S NOT ABOUT FRIENDSHIP
ON TUESDAY, ALGEBRA CLASS SEEMED TO drag on forever. At least my grade was a solid B plus in the class and I could spend more time on biology. School had finally started to feel a little easier. At least now I didn’t feel like I had to study 24/7 to keep up with classes. And, hopefully, a couple of Bs on my report card would be okay with Mom and Dad.
When class finally ended, I headed back to the stable. Today, the riders were voting for the planner of the winter party.
“What’s the winter party?” I had asked Callie earlier.
“Every fall, the team chooses a rider to throw a party,” Callie said.
“How do we pick a winner?” I fished a piece of hay out of Charm’s water bucket.
“Old school. We put our votes in a riding helmet. Last year, Heather won and she had a pink and white ball in the indoor arena. All of the girls dressed up in big, princess-y gowns. The arena looked like a Disney castle.”
“That does sound fun,” I admitted.
At that moment, I had known I wanted to plan the party. I was tired of being the girl I had been at Union Middle School where no one had known my name. The Canterwood Crest Sasha had to step up and take the reins.
Outside the math building, a crunchy, rust colored maple leaf floated in front of me and landed on the sidewalk. Barren trees dotted the campus. Winter was just around the corner. Cashmere sweaters replaced collared tees, wool skirts with tights replaced breezy cotton dresses. The dorms were toasty warm and I loved the feeling of cool air on my face. The outdoor pools were closed and now students spent more time at the campus movie theater or the bowling alley. Even Charm’s coat was darkening from the lack of sunlight.
Soon, Mr. Conner would announce the student chosen to plan the winter party. Whoever won had only a couple of weeks to plan the event. Callie had said it was a Canterwood tradition that the winter party fell in November since students had too many activities, plus the winter holiday, in December.
I took a seat next to Callie. The Trio sat a few seats away. A smug-looking Julia leaned over Alison and whispered with Heather. Other riders filled the seats and chatted about who they thought would win. Mr. Conner entered and everyone looked at him expectantly.
“You’re never this quiet when I have business to discuss,” he said in a pretend-grumbling voice. “This year’s planner of the winter riding event is…”
Callie and I sneaked a look at Heather and caught her staring back at me. Her eyes burned a hole in the side of my head as she glared and waited for Mr. Conner to call out the winner’s name. Any shred of friendliness from the Halloween auction was long gone.
“Sasha Silver! Congratulations!” Mr. Conner said.
What? I looked to Callie, eyes wide.
An audible gasp came from Heather’s side of the room.
“As I’m sure you know by now, the winter party has been a staple at Canterwood since the school began. Keep in mind that everyone will be expecting a grand scale event.” Mr. Conner smiled at me. “You have two weeks to plan and I suggest you get started. When you have your plans, drop them by my office and I’ll start ordering supplies.”
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “Can you believe this?”
“Yes!” Callie cheered. “I can!”
I’d never planned a party! I tried to plan an anniversary dinner for my parents once and I forgot to put eggs in the cake mix, left the decorations at the checkout counter and forgot to invite them!
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m freaking out here—what if I can’t do this?”
“Calm down,” Callie said. She took my arm and led me into the barn aisle. “I’ll help you. We can do this together.”
If I studied for midterms, packed for Thanksgiving break, wrote my film paper and took care of Charm, how would I be able to do the planning? Luckily, Mr. Conner had given us the week off from required practice so we could focus on studying instead of riding.
“Way to go, Sasha,” Nicole said as she walked past me and clapped her hands. “You deserve it. I voted for you.”
“Thanks, Nicole,” I told her.
I still couldn’t believe this. At Union, I hadn’t even gone to any of the dances because I was always at Briar Creek. I was the stable girl and that was that. Here, smart kids liked me and actually voted for me to win! I hadn’t been able to blend school and Briar Creek, but here, lots of people were riders and students, so no one teased me for being the horse girl.
Heather stomped in front of me. “Don’t worry,” she said, “We don’t expect much from you. Just use whatever you had at your loser dances back home—lawn chairs and a cooler?”
“I’ve got to study,” I told Callie, choosing to ignore Heather. “Call me later.”
When I got into my dorm room, I immediately started on my
English homework. Maybe the rules for writing a sonnet would seep into my brain if I put the book under my pillow tonight. But I couldn’t focus.
Then an IM popped up.
GamerGuy: hey, sash. what r u doing?
My first IM conversation with Jacob!
SassySilver: hw. u?
GamerGuy: same. got a zillion papers 2 write b4 break.
Sassy Silver: me 2. and now i’ve got a party 2 plan.
GamerGuy:?
SassySilver: @ the stables—the winter ball.
GamerGuy: cool. good luck.
Okay, here’s where I should have asked him out. But I didn’t.
SassySilver: thanx. c u ltr.
I logged out of IM and dialed Mom, in a pathetic attempt to avoid my homework.
“Hi, Mom,” I said.
“Hey, hon. Dad and I were just talking about you! Only a two and a half more weeks until Thanksgiving break, huh?”
“I’ve got big news.”
“Oh, really?” Mom asked.
“Yeah, it’s really big.” Making Mom squirm was kind of fun!
“Well, tell me!” Mom huffed.
“I am planning…,” Pause for dramatic effect. “The winter party for the riding team!” Silence. Not exactly the reaction I was after. “Mom?”
“Sasha, that’s wonderful, but…” she said. “You’re already doing so much.”
“I want to do this. People voted for me!”
Mom’s voice took a worried tone. “I just don’t want you to overburden yourself.”
“I won’t.”
“Won’t this take away from your midterm studies?”
“No, Mom,” I said impatiently. Why wasn’t she more excited? “I’m studying right now.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Congratulations, Sasha—you know I’m proud of you.”
When I got off the phone, I resumed my English homework, which took over an hour to finish. Paige wasn’t back yet, so I could at least outline party ideas before she got here. On the blank sheet of paper in front of me, I wrote winter party. Not nearly as confusing as sonnets. What was my party theme? That question needed an answer before I started my list. The rules said I was only in charge of food and decorations, but that was a big enough job. My mind was blank. And then I remembered: at Briar Creek, Charm’s stall had always been my favorite thinking place. His stall here was twice as big.
I put my English book away and trudged back to the stable. The campus was unusually quiet. Everyone was probably in the library or holed up in a dorm studying for midterms. I gazed upward. Big, tumbling clouds filled the sky and a crisp breeze blew leaves from the sprawling oak and maple trees. If only campus was always this calm.
On my way to Charm’s stall, I passed the indoor arena. Inside, Callie and Black Jack swept around the ring. Jack’s black coat was slick with sweat. Since when did Callie practice without me? I had been studying my butt off and she was riding! Was school easy for everyone but me? I stepped inside the arena, careful not to startle Jack, and waved. Callie smiled and slowed Jack to a trot as they made their way over. “I thought you said you were studying,” I said. “I didn’t know you were going to practice.”
Out of breath, she nodded and pushed hair out of her eyes. “Wasn’t planning to, but I got bored with studying and felt like riding.”
“I’ll tack up Charm and practice with you,” I said.
Callie hopped off Jack’s back and loosened his girth. “I’m quitting. He’s tired and I really need to get back to the dorm.”
“We’re still riding at four tomorrow, right?”
Callie led Jack away from me and out of the arena. “Of course—see you then!”
I took a seat at the side of the arena. Was Callie trying to get an edge over me? I got up, and almost collided with Heather. She had the batlike ability to sneak into any room without a sound.
“You’re competition to her, Silver,” Heather said. She was serious. She looked up from inspecting her pretty pink manicure and smirked at me, obviously enjoying my discomfort.
“Callie’s my friend,” I said. “She doesn’t see me as competition.” But the more I thought about it, the less sure I became.
Heather rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “This isn’t about friendship. Everyone here wants to make that team. If you were smart, you’d be riding without her, too. Don’t think I don’t know that Julia sneaks off to ride without me.”
“But Julia wouldn’t stop being your friend if either of you didn’t make the team.” I knew that was true for Callie and me. Still, the more Heather said, the more paranoid I felt.
“Maybe not, but she doesn’t see me as a friend when we ride. I’m just another person trying for the advanced team. Julia would be stupid if she didn’t see me as competition. Same goes for Callie.”
“You can be friends and still be competitive,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be like that.” During my first trail ride with Callie, she had talked to me as if we’d been friends for years. But when she talked about the team and how she had ridden for the New England Saddle Club, for just a second, I knew she looked at me and wondered if I was someone to beat.
“Don’t listen to me, then. But last year, Julia, Callie and I were the same. All on the same level and just as new to Mr. Conner. Julia practices without me all the time now.”
I had noticed Julia’s improvement every week. Her seat was stronger and her commands to Trix were enviably invisible.
“Callie and I would be happy if either of us made the team.”
Heather planted her hands on her hips. “Really? If Callie makes the team and you don’t, you won’t care?”
“No,” I argued. “I didn’t say that. I’d care, I just—”
Heather took a step closer to me. “You wouldn’t hate her? Or hate yourself for not working harder?”
I’d had enough. I headed for the door.
“She’s here all the time, Sasha,” Heather called after me. “She spent more time practicing today than you have all week.”
The arena door banged shut behind me and I headed for Charm’s stall. Jack’s stall was empty—it looked like Callie was cooling him off somewhere. Deep down, I knew Callie wasn’t trying to best me, but Heather’s warning rumbled around in my head. Charm and I weren’t doing enough. Studying kept cutting into my riding time! Callie was lucky—school was easy for her. And Paige. And apparently Julia, Alison, and Nicole. Would school ever be easy again?
“C’mon Charm,” I said to him as he looked up at me from the hay net. Hay stuck out the corners of his mouth. “It’s time to work.”
Two hours later, it was after six, and I’d missed dinner. Charm and I, sweaty and sore, soared over two double oxers. Livvie had grudgingly agreed to let me practice for a few hours, as long as I had promised to relax the rest of the night. My phone vibrated in my pocket and Charm slowed to a walk so I could look at my caller ID.
“Where are you?” Callie asked.
“Eating with Paige,” I told her. “I’d invite you, but we’re having our dorm meeting.” Guilt settled in my stomach. I hadn’t meant to lie. We chatted for a minute before hanging up. I clicked the phone shut and placed it back in my pocket. Charm and I had another hour before we would stop.
It was time to get serious.
22
THE S.I.N.G. TECHNIQUE IS GOOD FOR LOTS OF THINGS….
THE LIGHTS IN THE THEATER CAME ON AS THE credits rolled.
“Did you like it?” Jacob asked. Mr. Ramirez wanted to show us a true blockbuster film, so he’d picked one of the biggest-grossing movies in history—Jurassic Park.
“I loved it,” I said. “But I was scared most of the time!”
“Even though there was a roomful of people?” Jacob asked.
“Sorry, but Mr. Ramirez couldn’t stop a T-Rex from snatching us out of a Jeep,” I said.
“True,” he conceded.
“I was getting ready to use my S.I.N.G. technique,” I said.
“What is the S.I.N.
G. technique?”
“S.I.N.G. Solar plexus, instep, nose, and groin.” I mimed punching and kicking the imaginary dinosaur.
Jacob laughed.
“Don’t make me use it on you,” I teased.
Jacob held up his hands in a mock okay-okay-I’m-backing-off gesture.
We gathered our bags and headed out.
“We’re watching The King and I next week, right?” I asked.
“I think so,” Jacob said.
Okay, just ask him. Yoga-breath time. In, out. Iiiiiiin, ouuuuut.
“The dancing scenes look cool,” I said. “Lots of parties. And dancing…” I trailed off. I couldn’t do it. The words to ask Jacob to the dance just wouldn’t come out. I stopped myself from turning and grabbing my plum lip gloss out of my bag.
Jacob shook his head. “I’m an awful dancer.”
“Me, too,” I said.
Jacob shifted his film textbook from one arm to the next. “Hey, Sasha,” he said.
“You want me to teach you the S.I.N.G. technique, don’t you?” I asked.
He laughed. “You’re funny.” He glanced down at his sneakers before looking back up at me. “I’m going to the library to study.”
I nodded, unsure what he wanted me to say. “Have fun,” I said.
“Do you want to come?” he asked. “I could help you with bio and you could help me with English.”
Was this a date? I wanted to call Paige for advice. But Jacob smiled and I felt less nervous.
“Cool,” I said. “Let’s go!”
Forty-five minutes later, we were elbow-deep in textbooks. Ms. Langford, the librarian, kept swooping in and eyeing us suspiciously. Whenever our voices rose above an exaggerated whisper, she looked daggers at us.
In the last couple of months, I’d spend a lot of time in the library, but, as with the rest of campus, I never got used to how beautiful it was. There was polished, dark mahogany wood everywhere; tiny gold reading lamps with forest green shades dotted every table, casting a cozy yellow glow over everything. The book collection was a thousand times bigger than the one at Union, and Canterwood’s library, unlike Union’s, was never empty.
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