'What do you mean?' Shelby hadn't heard of anyone ever saving money by owning a horse.
Lydia explained. 'Dad only agreed to let me have a pony because he eats the grass clippings that Dad brings home from his golf club contract. Otherwise Dad would have to pay to take them to the dump.'
'You're feeding Chance lawn clippings?' Shelby asked. 'You didn't tell me that!'
'What are you talking about, Shelby? Every time you've asked me what I feed him I've said "grass"!'
'Lawn clippings aren't grass!' Shelby spluttered. 'They have all the toxic fumes from the mower in them, for starters. And the lawns at the golf club would be stressed from being mown all the time, so it's higher in fructose. And you would probably dress them with blood and bone, and all kinds of other stuff. No
wonder he's sick! Lawn clippings are the worst thing you could possibly feed this pony. You've got to stop!' Lee lost his temper. 'Well, he's no good to us then, is he?'
15 Promises
After school the next day, Hayley worked Diablo's filly for the first time. Shelby had expected Miss Anita to be giving the lesson, but Brenda Edel was doing that herself. She'd seen Mrs Edel ride before, but never give a lesson, so Shelby abandoned her wheelbarrow in the laneway and leaned against the arena fence to watch.
When Shelby last saw the filly she was young, awkward, dirty from rolling around in the paddock and bum-high, with a long, thick, knotty mane like a broodmare, but now she was back from the breakers she was tall, broad and imposing.
Brenda had wrapped the filly's legs in white bandages for protection and she had on a white saddle blanket. She looked elegant and athletic, like those horses that do dressage to music.
Over the time Shelby had worked at the stables she had watched Hayley start three new horses. Each time Shelby had thought that Hayley had reached a pinnacle – that there could be no horse finer, but this filly was grander still.
At least she was grander in potential. When she trotted her hooves seemed to suspend over the ground before they landed, but Shelby noticed that the filly's stride was uneven. Sometimes she stepped short, making Hayley pitch slightly forward. Other times she would hop up and down instead of covering the ground. She tossed her head a lot, turning her ears this way and that. Her neck was tense. Shelby could see the muscles bulging on the underside.
'There is plenty of forward there, but don't let her run away with you. Keep your rising even, and that will guide her,' Mrs Edel said. 'Use more outside leg around that corner to stop her dropping in.'
The filly reared up. Hayley leaned forward to maintain her balance.
'Ooh. She doesn't like the pressure, does she?' Mrs Edel said.
Once the filly's front feet were on the ground again, Hayley pushed her back into a trot.
'OK. Good recovery there.'
The filly reared again.
'Just try to ignore that.'
Shelby smiled. Just ignore it?
Mrs Edel continued. 'You don't want to make it an event. Keep the pressure on for the forward. Remember, she can only go up if she has her two back feet on the ground at the same time.'
The mare skipped again, trying to rear, but Hayley pushed her off-balance.
'Don't release the pressure on the outside leg. She's trying to find ways to evade your aids. If you let go, she wins and you're rewarding it. Much better! She's listening to you now. OK, let's change sides.'
Lindsey walked up from behind Shelby and leaned on the fence as well. If her mother noticed her there she didn't say anything.
'Why aren't you riding this one?' Shelby asked.
Lindsey shook her head. 'Performance horses. Never really been my thing.'
'Why not?'
'Because you have to do too much performing.'
Lindsey never came to Pony Club or any of the shows. Shelby had always assumed that it was because she was too busy, but now she wondered. 'Have you ever competed?'
'Are you kidding? Mum had me riding when I was two, but she's like a soccer mum. You know?'
'Worse than Mrs Crook?' Shelby said, keeping her voice low.
Lindsey considered for a minute. 'Probably about the same, but the difference is that Hayley wants to win. Hayley doesn't like being yelled at, but she hates losing more. I never cared whether I won or lost as long as my horse went well, and that wasn't good enough for my mum. And besides that, the horses were always hers. She never let me feel like they were mine.'
Shelby guessed that's why Lindsey spent all her time with the riding school ponies. They were a rag-tag bunch, and Lindsey worked on them constantly. That included the normal things like their diet, teeth, feet and worming, but she also trained them. Beginners rode them most of the time, which meant they could develop bad habits quickly, if Lindsey didn't keep on top of it.
She also kept them looking tidy, with neat, brushed tails and even manes. Lindsey could let them be a bit feral, Shelby supposed – the beginners wouldn't notice. But it seemed to Shelby that horses were about working towards particular goals – horses were about dreams, and the riding school horses were Lindsey's dreams, not her mother's.
After a few more uneven circles the filly suddenly dropped her head down.
'There! Look at that!' Mrs Edel said. 'Can you feel her reaching for the connection? She's softer across the back. That's perfect! Whenever you're ready you can walk. That will do for today, I think. Don't you?'
The filly slowed to a walk. Hayley loosened the reins and rode around the arena a few more times. Even after the rearing, and the hopping about the mare had done, Hayley looked calm. She was even smiling.
Shelby turned back to Lindsey. 'Which sort of rider do you think I am?'
'I reckon you would be a performer too, if you had the chance.'
Back in the arena, Brenda was patting the filly on the shoulder while Hayley dismounted.
'What do you think of her?' Mrs Edel asked.
Hayley replied, 'She got a bit nervous when she wasn't sure what I was asking for but after that it was like she wanted to show me what she can do. I think she has talent. She's going to be great.'
Shelby could see Hayley formulating a dream in her mind. She was picturing the year ahead – the techniques she would practise and perfect, the goals she would aim for at each individual competition, scores she was hoping to achieve. Hayley was imagining this filly growing stronger and braver, and a partnership developing between them.
Shelby got it in a way she didn't think Lindsey did. It wasn't about winning really. The winning was just someone else agreeing that you've done a good job.
She understood why Hayley wasn't so interested in Smarty or her foal. It would be cute and nice, but they were a backwards step for Hayley. She'd already done Pony Club and hack shows. She'd mastered all that. Hayley was working towards a new dream.
That was what Shelby missed. There was no dream with Blue. And she wanted desperately to be the sort of rider who could just ignore a massive, young warmblood rearing underneath her, because it was part of the process, because she was focused instead on the year ahead.
'I'm going to do it,' she mumbled.
'What?' asked Lindsey.
'I have to sell Blue,' Shelby said. She grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow, leaving a shocked Lindsey behind.
Shelby was in the paddock with Blue when her mum came to collect her after work.
'Are you ready, sweetheart?'
Shelby stroked Blue's face. 'Remember how you said we wouldn't move if I came up with ten thousand dollars? Well . . .' She was trying to hold it together. 'I've found someone who will pay ten thousand dollars for Blue.'
'Oh, honey!' said her mum. 'We would never make you sell your pony!'
'But . . .' Shelby's throat felt swollen and burnt. 'But you said if I could come up with the money we wouldn't have to move.'
Her mother climbed through the fence and put her hands on Shelby's shoulders. 'Blue is your pony. Even if you do sell him, we're not going to take the money from you. If yo
u want to sell him, that's up to you, but Shel, we are moving house.'
Then Shelby burst into tears because it wasn't fair. She had spent so long agonising over this decision. Finally she'd made it, and it didn't make the slightest difference. In fact, it was worse. Now that she had decided to sell him it wasn't for a good cause. It was just her selfish wish to have something bigger and better.
'Blue is my best friend in the whole world – my loyal friend. He does every little thing that I ask him to. He nibbles my fingers. He's never, ever been cross with me, even when I've done something stupid, and I do stupid things all the time.'
Shelby's mum wrapped her arms around her. 'Don't be so rough on yourself. You're learning. You can expect to make mistakes. And Blue forgives you. That's why he has been such a good pony for you.'
Shelby sobbed, because she was starting to understand that it was really, truly over. They were really going away. She would be living up the coast, and then overseas, and Blue would be somewhere else. She would go for days, and then months, without seeing him at all.
It would be the way Erin had described what had happened with her primary school friends; she might even stop missing him. She would realise one day that it had been years since she thought about him at all, and maybe in the meantime he would have gotten old and lain down in a paddock, gone to sleep and never woken up, and Shelby wouldn't have been there to say goodbye, like she had always promised him.
She had made all those promises to him when he was new and the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, and now she was going to break them.
And she sobbed and sobbed, because it was already over. She had broken them already.
16 A Dinner Cut Short
Chad was at Shelby's place when she and her mother arrived home from the stables. He was playing French cricket in the backyard with Connor and Blake while her dad turned rissoles on the barbecue. Shelby joined in the game while her mother murmured to her father under the sizzle – a whispered summary of Shelby's offer to sell Blue so they wouldn't have to move.
When it was Chad's turn to bat, Shelby could tell he was deliberately hitting the ball towards her brothers. She turned to see her father noticing too. He winked at Shelby.
Her mum brought out some salads and took off the Gladwrap covers, screwing the plastic into a ball. The boys abandoned their posts and climbed onto the outdoor chairs.
Shelby's dad brought the meat over to the table in a baking dish.
Chad sat next to Shelby and poured himself a glass of soft drink. She put a plate in front of him, and then served herself some coleslaw.
'Shelby tells me that you went on a date,' her mother said as she handed him a dish of potato.
Three emotions swept across Chad's face in quick succession – surprise, embarrassment and then anger. He glared at Shelby. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.
'You set this up. I don't understand. It's just mean. I really didn't think you were like that.' He put the dish down on the table.
Shelby's eyes widened. 'Like what?'
Chad turned to Shelby's parents. 'Thanks so much for the offer. I know it's rude, but I just can't stay.' He pushed back from the table. 'You guys have been really nice to me.'
Shelby's dad blinked. He was as perplexed as Shelby was.
'Wait a second, Chad,' Shelby's mum said. 'I think it's simply a misunderstanding.'
Chad stood in the doorway. He had two bright spots on his cheeks. 'I know it was a misunderstanding and I'm usually a good sport, but . . .' He took a deep breath. 'It hurt my feelings, that's all.' He looked down at his hands. Shelby thought he was going to cry.
'What is going on?' she said.
Chad shook his head again and turned away.
'You should probably go after him,' Connor said.
'No, I don't think I should,' Shelby said, slapping her napkin down on the table. 'He's the one who keeps on walking out all the time!'
A moment later she heard the front door shut.
'Tell us what happened from the beginning,' her mother said, and so Shelby explained about the meeting she had with Chad at The Ledge Café.
'So if anyone is going to be mad at anyone, it should be me, shouldn't it?' she said. 'And you know what else? If I was this girl who he is going on dates with, whoever she is, I wouldn't be too happy about Chad coming around here for tea at some other girl's house.'
Her family stared at her.
'I know what you're all thinking. He's just going on dates with Miss Whoever to make me jealous,' Shelby said. 'Don't you think I could figure that one out for myself?'
'You're an idiot,' Connor said.
17 A Second Opinion
'I want to know who Chad went on a date with,' Shelby said in class the next day. 'Don't call me names. Just tell me who it was.'
Erin was resting her chin on the heel of her hand and staring at the back of Ethan Agnew's head. Mrs Singh's blue marker made squeaky noises on the white-board as she scribbled down their practical task.
'Subatomic particles,' Shelby grumbled.
'Don't be such a negative ion,' Erin said, and then she laughed so hard she hiccuped.
Shelby didn't even smile. She was grumpy because she hadn't had much sleep the night before. She had been going over the conversation that she and Chad had at The Ledge. She'd had an idea at about three in the morning, and she'd dismissed it then, but now she thought she might send it out there and see what happened.
'It was me, wasn't it? When I asked Chad to The Ledge, he thought it was a date.'
'Yes!' Erin grinned at her friend. 'You finally got it.'
'I am an idiot!' Shelby put her hands to her cheeks. 'And then yesterday he must have thought that I was teasing him for thinking it was a date. That was mean. No wonder he got mad!'
'Hence the name calling,' Erin added.
'Since when do you say "hence"?' Shelby asked.
Ethan turned around, found Erin staring and smiled. Erin quickly looked down at her page.
'Shh!' Erin hid her face with her hand. 'He knows!' she whispered. 'I'm going to have to change schools immediately. This is the end of my life.'
'Maybe he just smiled at you because you were staring at him. Or it could be because he loves you. He could have caught the lovey-ness that you've been sending out on your pheromones.'
Erin frowned. 'You're saying I stinked at him and he contracted a crush?'
'Hence the smiling,' Shelby replied. 'So what do I do about Chad? Do I ring him? Should I wait for him to message me or something?'
'You're asking me? I can't even maintain eye contact with the boy I love.'
'I'll wait till he's online and then I'll just say something casual, like ask him about how his essay went.' Shelby doodled on the corner of her page. 'How do you know he thought it was a date anyway? Did he tell you?'
'He didn't have to tell me.'
'Then you don't know for sure. There could still be some other girl.'
Erin copied the notes from the board and then she chewed on the end of her pen. 'Am I that kid who smells and nobody says anything? Was that pheromone comment your nice way of telling me?'
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