Unfriendly Competition

by Jessica Burkhart

  xx

  “Are you kidding me?” I half screamed to no one.

  This was beyond ridiculous. The gossip blogger had to be stopped. Or we were going to be expelled. I couldn’t even start to think about that.

  My door opened and Brit walked inside as I was rubbing my temples.

  “Hey!” Brit said, grinning until she saw my face. Her smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, just a little something that the stupid gossip blogger just posted! Look.” I shoved my laptop at Brit and picked up my phone. Even though I’d already talked to Jacob and hadn’t done anything wrong, I still wanted to talk about it.

  Brit read the post in seconds. “Oh, Sasha. I’m so sorry! But you didn’t do anything, and Jacob’s not going to think you want to be back with Eric.”

  “I know he won’t,” I said. “But this is so wrong. And a photo? Really? Was that necessary?”

  I needed gloss stat. I grabbed one from my special gloss bag that I only used for dates and going out. But this was an emergency. I applied a coat of peachy pink Dior gloss. That made me feel a little better.

  Brit looked at the phone in my hand. “Go ahead and call Jacob. It’ll make you feel better. We’ll go to our lesson when you’re done, okay? Just know that you’re allowed to talk to whomever you want and the gossip blogger is going to be stopped.”

  I took a shaky breath. “Thanks, Brit. I won’t be long on the phone—promise. We won’t be late to our lesson.”

  Brit waved her hand. “Take your time. We can tack up two horses faster than anyone.”

  I smiled. “Now that’s something that actually is true.”

  I hit Jacob’s speed dial number, taking deep breaths while the phone rang.

  “Hey,” Jacob said. His voice was upbeat, and it sounded like he was walking somewhere—I could hear the wind.

  “Hi,” I said. “You might have already heard or read about it, but we got attacked by the gossip blogger today.”

  “What? What did it say?”

  I paused. I knew Jacob would believe me, especially since I’d already told him about talking to Eric, but I was still a little scared.

  “It said I was flirting with Eric in the hallway. There’s a picture of us smiling at each other.”

  “Sasha, I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t flirt with Eric—I wouldn’t have said anything about if you hadn’t brought it up. I trust you.”

  “I know you do. I just wanted to call you and make sure you knew that the post was up. I didn’t want you to be surprised.”

  “That was sweet,” Jacob said. “But I don’t care what the gossip blogger said.”

  “I don’t either. It hurt my feelings a little, though, that the blogger couldn’t believe I was with you.”

  “What do you mean?” Jacob’s tone dropped.

  “It basically said that I was no one and how crazy it was that someone like me was dating you.”

  “Sasha, I can’t even tell you how untrue that is. Whoever wrote that is obviously jealous of you. The blogger should have written the opposite—that I’m lucky to have someone like you interested in me.”

  “Jacob.”

  He couldn’t have said anything else that could have made me feel that good.

  “I mean it. When the gossip blogger is caught, I’ll definitely have something to say.”

  “Defending my honor, huh?” I laughed.

  Jacob joined me. “Most definitely.”

  I checked the time on the pool-colored wall clock. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for my lesson. But I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Have a good ride.”

  We hung up, and I raced to throw on the cleanest pair of breeches I could find. Brit had dressed while I was on the phone. She stood in front of our full-length mirror and pulled her hair into a low ponytail.

  “Tell me again that the gossip blogger doesn’t matter,” I said to Brit.

  She turned, finishing putting up her hair. “The gossip blogger does not matter. What does, is our lesson. Shake it off and focus.” Brit’s eyes met mine. “The blogger isn’t going to help you at Huntington.”

  I pulled on my boots, knowing Brit was right. There hadn’t been a more important time to focus since I’d come to Canterwood. As Brit and I walked to the stable, I couldn’t help but wonder—what if the blogger was a rider, too? What if it was a total bonus if the blogs distracted the targeted riders to cause them to be unprepared for Huntington?

  8

  CHARM’S FAVE

  THE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS FOGGY AND gray for my riding lesson. I loved the sun, but this weather was fun too. I loved the moodiness of it and was thrilled that we were riding outside this morning. Charm would be especially happy once he realized what we were doing—cross-country.

  “Hiya, gorgeous!” I said, peering into Charm’s stall.

  He looked up, his mouth full of hay.

  I shook my head. “As if I’m surprised by that. But you do look very cute.”

  Charm chomped down on his hay and walked up to me, sticking his head over the stall door.

  I put down his tack and grooming kit. I ran my hand down his blaze and kissed his soft muzzle.

  “Missed you,” I said.

  Charm bumped his head into my shoulder and I laughed. “I think someone’s ready to get out of his stall. C’mon.”

  Charm stepped back as I slid open the stall door and held onto his halter. It was one of my favorites on him. It was a soft brown leather that had his name engraved on a gold plate. My parents had gotten it for him for Christmas. Mom had even wrapped it in paper she’d found with carrots.

  I put him in crossties and grabbed a hoof pick from my tack box. We had to be outside and ready in minutes. Charm was a perfect boy as I scraped his hooves, then started brushing him. In superspeed mode, I used his red rubber currycomb to get his growing winter coat under control. After that, a soft body brush made him shine and I combed his mane and tail until they were tangle free.

  “Time for tack!” I said.

  Ahead of me, I saw Brit pause with Apollo in the aisle. “Want me to wait?” she called.

  “No way, but thanks,” I said. “Go ahead. We’ll be right there.”

  “Okay.” Brit turned Apollo back toward the front of the stable and went outside.

  I unclipped the crossties and slipped Charm’s reins over his head and let them hang around his neck.

  He took the bit without a second of hesitation, and I buckled the straps. I placed a dark green heavier saddle pad on his back and lifted my English saddle on top of it. Reaching under Charm’s stomach, I grabbed the girth and tightened it. I put on my own helmet and cross-country protective vest.

  Charm’s big brown eyes got wider as he looked at my vest. He knew what it meant.

  “That’s right,” I said, patting his neck after I pulled on my gloves. “We’re going out on the trails!”

  Charm started walking forward—without me!

  “Whoaaa! Wait for me!” I grabbed his reins, laughing. “We’re going, we’re going.”

  I loved his excitement, though. It was adorable.

  We got outside and the fog had lifted just enough so jumping in the woods and racing across the fields wouldn’t be dangerous.

  I stopped Charm beside Apollo and the two horses, both excited, sniffed muzzles. Heather, on Apollo’s other side, was adjusting Aristocrat’s martingale.

  “Made it,” I said, glad that I’d beat Mr. Conner. I did not want to be on stall mucking duty because I was late.

  “Callie’s not here yet, either, so don’t worry,” Brit said.

  “That’s no excuse,” Heather said. “What possible reason could you have to be almost late?”

  “Um, maybe because I had things to do,” I said, shaking my head at her. “I wasn’t late, so chill.”

  Heather glared at me for a second, then stared straight ahead as Callie and Black Jack walked out of the stable entrance and into the fog.

  Callie mounted and
the four of us waited in silence for Mr. Conner. After a few excruciatingly long minutes, Heather let out an enormous sigh and walked Aristocrat in front of us, pulling him around to face us.

  “This is so pathetic,” Heather said. Her eyes ran over each of us.

  None of us said a word. I was too scared to and when I glanced over at Brit and Callie, it looked as though they were thinking the same.

  “We’re the YENT team,” Heather said. “I don’t care who hates who or if someone’s mad because of a boyfriend or because someone borrowed her eyeliner and never gave it back. Whatever. We’re about to compete at Huntington and if we’re not even a team when we’re at home, we’re going to flop at our first show. Given.”

  I looked down at Charm’s mane knowing she was right.

  Heather held up a hand. “Please. Don’t get me wrong. I’m so not saying we all have to be besties—I definitely don’t want to go that far—but we have to act like a team because that’s what we are. So we all”—Heather paused—“including myself, have to get over our issues and figure out how to make this work.”

  Brit, Callie, and I nodded simultaneously. Nothing needed to be said—everyone seemed to sense it. We had to do it.

  Heather rejoined us in line and Aristocrat had just settled when Mr. Conner led Lexington, the gray gelding he was finishing training, out of the stable.

  Mr. Conner got into the saddle, also wearing a protective vest and helmet, and rode up to us.

  The second I saw his face, I knew something was wrong. He halted Lexington in front of us and stared us down. My heartbeat sped up and I tried not to panic. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but he looked mad.

  Not. Good.

  “Before we start this morning’s lesson,” Mr. Conner said. “I want to address the blog post that went live yesterday. It directly targeted a member of our team in a hurtful way. I’d reiterate again that behavior such as the gossip blogger’s is not tolerated at Canterwood Crest. The teachers and Headmistress Drake will be taking further action to uncover whoever is writing this blog. Callie, the headmistress is not sharing her suspicions with other students, so please keep this to yourself.”

  He looked at the four of us, and I’d never seen him so angry. Well, except for the time he’d caught me riding Charm at midnight in the stable.

  “I want to say one final word on this matter,” Mr. Conner continued. “If any of you know who is responsible for this, I hope you do the right thing and come forward. This negativity will slowly begin to disrupt activities such as sports, including ours, if it hasn’t already.”

  Mr. Conner gave us one last hard gaze, then raised his chin. “Okay, let’s get started. We’re going to take a new cross-country path today. Instead of going through the woods behind the stable, we’re going to head down the driveway and cross the road into a new field. We’ve gotten permission from the landowner, and Mike and I have checked the field several times. There are several great natural jumps and a change of scenery will be good for all of us.”

  Callie, Brit, Heather, and I smiled at each other—we couldn’t help it. Anytime we got to ride in a new area, it was superexciting.

  “If you’re ready, let’s go,” Mr. Conner said.

  “Ready!” the four of us chimed.

  We circled our horses away from the stable, following Mr. Conner and Lexington down the driveway. The horses’ metal shoes rang out on the concrete drive and their ears and eyes flicked from side to side, taking in the new view of campus. We’d only been outside of campus a few times on horseback, and I loved it.

  The fog, still thick in some patches, was heavy enough that it covered the campus buildings that were in sight. Only the faintest glow of yellow lights from windows and streetlamps shone through.

  We reached the end of the driveway, and Mr. Conner halted, raising his hand so we’d all stop.

  “Please be extremely careful as we cross the road,” Mr. Conner said. “The fog will make seeing any cars difficult.”

  “Yes, sir,” we said.

  “I’ll go first,” Mr. Conner said, looking over his shoulder at us. “When I get across, I’ll direct you one at time to come to the other side. I don’t expect there to be any cars, since this is a quiet street, but we’re going to be extra careful.”

  Callie, Heather, Brit, and I waited at the end of the driveway while Mr. Conner peered down the winding road for cars. The trees that lined either side of the street were bare and crunchy leaves covered parts of the street.

  Mr. Conner started Lexington forward and the gray moved at an easy walk. He was young and still green, but Mr. Conner was training him well. Mr. Conner walked him straight down the road toward the metal gate that would allow us access to the field. Lexington was yards from the gate when a loud SQUAWK and flapping of wings shattered the morning silence.

  I jerked my head up and saw a huge black crow fly out of a tree just to Lexington’s right. The gelding, already terrified from the noise, spooked. He let out a shrill neigh and rose into the air. I gasped, unable to move. Mr. Conner threw himself forward, trying to force his weight to push Lexington back onto the ground. But Lexington’s body was vertical.

  A horrible, scraping sound of horseshoes on concrete and leaves, wet from fog, rang in my ears.

  Lexington, with red nostrils and white in his eyes, flipped onto his back—pinning Mr. Conner.

  Callie, Heather, Brit, and I gasped.

  “Mr. Conner!” Heather screamed.

  There was a tangle of horse and rider. Mr. Conner managed to free himself from the saddle and was on his back on the road. As fast as Lexington had reared, he’d managed to roll onto his side and get his legs back under him. Shaky, he started to walk to the grass on the side of the road.

  “Sasha, grab Lexington,” Heather barked. “Brit, get off Apollo and go by Mr. Conner. Don’t move him if he’s hurt, but see if he can get off the road. Callie, go for help.”

  Callie turned Jack back toward the stable and let him race along the fence at a gallop.

  Heather and I trotted our horses into the street. Heather rode a few yards down the one-way road, took off her cross-country vest, and put it on the road. It took me a second to realize what she was doing. The vest had reflective tape. If Mr. Conner couldn’t move, any oncoming cars would see the tape and stop.

  Brit kneeled by Mr. Conner. As I started for Lexington, I saw Mr. Conner sit up. My thudding heart slowed just a fraction. He couldn’t be too hurt if he could sit up.

  Lexington, shaken and scared, didn’t try to bolt when I eased Charm next to him and reached over to grab his reins.

  “Easy, boy,” I said. His sides were heaving and he had a scrape on his flank. I dismounted and stood between Charm and Lexington. I started to lead them toward Mr. Conner, Brit, and Heather, watching Lexington for any sign of injury. He seemed to be moving without any pain, and he wasn’t favoring any of his legs.

  “I’m okay, girls,” I heard Mr. Conner say as I reached him. But his face was gray. I’d never seen him look like this. He was clutching his right leg. I choked back a sob when I looked at it. It was bent at an odd angle.

  “You’re not okay,” Heather said. “Your leg—it’s broken. You shouldn’t even be sitting up—you always tell us that. But we are in the middle of the road. Can we help move you a few feet over onto the shoulder of the road?”

  Mr. Conner, teeth gritted, nodded. “I want you girls out of the road. It’s dangerous. The fog—”

  He started to stand, trying to put his weight on his left leg and let out a low moan. Brit and Heather jumped to his side and put their arms around his sides, even though he towered over them. It took several agonizing steps, but Brit and Heather got Mr. Conner off the road and sitting in the grass while Apollo and Aristocrat stood beside them. Brit and Heather crouched next to Mr. Conner and I held Lexington and Charm.

  “Callie went for help,” I said. “Someone will be here any second.”

  “I’m sorry, girls,” Mr. Conner said. “I tell you t
o be on alert every second and I should have been, too.” His practiced eyes swept over Lexington. “How is he?” Mr. Conner asked me.

  “I walked him and he moved fine,” I said. “He’s probably going to be sore, but he’s not favoring anything.”

  That brought a hint of color back to Mr. Conner’s face. “Thank you, all. You could not have been more mature and calm.”

  Hoofbeats thudded in the grass, increasing in sound. Through the lifting fog, Callie, Mike, and Doug rode over to us.

  “An ambulance is on the way,” Mike told Mr. Conner as he dismounted. “It will be here any second.”

  “Girls,” Doug said. “You’ll head back to the stable with me. I don’t want the sirens to spook the horses. Mike’s going to stay with Mr. Conner.”

  Mike handed Doug his horse’s reins, and Doug looked at me. “Do you feel you can lead Lexington back? If you’re nervous, I’ll lead him.”

  I looked at Lexington, whose head was low. He felt bad for what he’d done—he wasn’t going to act up again.

  “I’ve got him,” I said.

  Doug nodded. “All right. Let’s get back to the stable.”

  I felt awful leaving Mr. Conner. “Are you sure we can’t stay?” I asked.

  “No,” Mr. Conner’s voice was firm. “You all have been amazing. Go back to the stable with Doug. I’m fine with Mike.”

  We nodded, casting one look back at him before the four of us followed Doug at a walk across the road and down the driveway. No one said a word.

  I’d never seen an injury like that happen, and it had definitely rattled me. Mr. Conner was so experienced, but he was leaving in an ambulance.

  We got back to the stable and Doug turned to us. “Mr. Conner will be okay,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I don’t think any of you feel up to practicing this morning, so untack your horses and go back to your dorms to get ready for class.”

  “Will you text us the second you hear something about Mr. Conner?” Callie asked.