Callie vaguely remembered Scott telling the family something about Stevie’s big plans for some newspaper article at dinner the night before. Callie had been distracted by her own thoughts, so she hadn’t really caught all of what he was saying. “Um, I think so,” she said, glancing over at Corey again. He was still looking her way and smiling. She didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer than she already had, especially since they only had about fifteen minutes left in the lunch period to finish their assignment. “He said, uh, you were writing about the marriage project. Right?”
“Right,” Stevie confirmed. “I’m featuring three different couples, following their progress through the week and then seeing how things turn out for all of them. And I thought you and Corey would be perfect as one of the three couples. So what do you say?”
“Oh.” Callie shrugged. “I guess that would be all right. I’ll check with Corey and make sure he’s okay with it if you want.”
“Great!” Stevie looked pleased. “Thanks a lot, Callie. Maybe we can talk more about it this afternoon at Pine Hollow. I have a date with Phil tonight, but I was going to stop by for a quick ride first.”
“Okay. See you later.” Callie gave Stevie a little wave, grabbed her cane, which was leaning against the empty chair beside hers, and hurried over to Corey’s table.
His brown eyes were twinkling as she approached. “Hey, Callie,” he greeted her, a mischievous smile on his boyish face. “I was starting to think my new wife was already having an affair or something.”
“I’m so sorry, Corey.” Callie set her things down on the table and slid into a seat beside him. “I totally forgot we were supposed to meet today.” She shrugged apologetically and gestured to her endurance book. “This came in the mail just yesterday, and I couldn’t wait to read it, and, well … Anyway, I’m really sorry.”
Corey picked up the book. “Endurance riding?” he said. “What’s that?”
“It’s my sport,” Callie said. “I mean, I used to do it a lot before I moved here. You know, before the accident.” She gestured in the general direction of her right leg, feeling a little self-conscious. “Anyway, endurance is basically long-distance trail riding. Most of the important races are fifty or one hundred miles long, and they’re timed and everything.”
“A hundred miles? Wow. Sounds like quite a sport.” Corey looked impressed. Then he glanced at the large, old-fashioned clock on the wall above the cafeteria entrance. “Oops. But maybe you should tell me more about that later. We’ve only got a little while.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Callie said again.
Corey grinned. “Don’t sweat it,” he said. “I’m in this marriage for better or for worse, remember?”
“Okay.” Callie smiled back, glad that she’d ended up with such a nice, understanding partner.
Before long the two of them were poring over Corey’s notebook, where he’d started sketching out their vows the night before. “Okay,” Corey said. “I like the part where we both say we’ll ‘love, honor, and cherish.’ Very traditional without being sexist.”
“Uh-huh.” Callie chewed on the end of her pen and read over what they had so far. “But we don’t really say that much about what we expect from the marriage. That’s part of the assignment, too.”
“Good point.” Corey buried one hand in his thick, straight brown hair and stared at the page thoughtfully. “I know if I were getting married for real, I’d probably want a real partner in life. Someone I could talk to about anything. Someone I could trust and respect and count on to be there for me, as well as someone to adore and worship and cherish and all that.”
Callie nodded eagerly and started scribbling notes in the margins. “That sounds great. Very romantic, actually.”
Before either of them could say anything else, there was a loud shriek from a nearby table. Startled by the sudden noise, Callie glanced over to see a popular cheerleader named Betsy Cavanaugh dancing around, clawing at her clingy cotton shirt and shrieking loudly. Spike Anderson and a few of his buddies were nearby, doubled over with laughter. When Wesley Ward darted forward and Callie spotted the ice cubes in his hand, she realized what had happened.
Corey was watching the scene, too. “Wow,” he said wryly. “I guess some guys really know how to flirt, huh? Maybe I should try the old ice-cube-down-the-shirt trick out on Amelia sometime. I’m sure she’d be really impressed.”
Callie chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, right,” she said. “I think that one stopped working on me when I graduated from kindergarten.”
Poor Stevie, she thought as she and Corey returned their attention to their assignment. I sure wouldn’t want to be stuck with that dork Spike as a partner. Just then a quick motion caught her eye. Glancing over, she saw George walking past their table. He was looking her way, a curious expression on his face. His steps slowed, and Callie was afraid he was going to come over and join them. Of course, Spike wouldn’t be my last choice for a fake husband.…
She shuddered, flashing to the image of George hovering outside the stable office the previous day. What would she have done if they’d been paired for the marriage project? She didn’t like to think about it. He was already practically her shadow.
“Hey,” Corey said, waving a hand in front of her face. “Earth to Callie. Time to get back to talking about how incredibly romantic and handsome I am.” He grinned.
Callie couldn’t help laughing, even though she was still watching George out of the corner of her eye. He had come to a complete stop by now, just a few feet from their table. Any second now he would probably start heading toward her.
She forced herself to smile at Corey. “Yeah, right,” she teased, trying to sound normal. “I don’t remember saying anything about you being handsome.”
Corey pretended to look hurt. “Oh, really? Well, looks aren’t everything.” He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it playfully. “See? I’m still the most romantic fake husband you ever had, right?”
Callie almost didn’t hear what he said. George had already taken one step in their direction, then two.…
But the moment that Corey’s lips brushed Callie’s hand, George stopped short, a confused look crossing his face. A split second later, he spun on his heel and hurried in the opposite direction.
Callie heaved a sigh of relief. Finally turning her full attention to Corey, she smiled at him gratefully. He would never know what amazing timing he had. “Right,” she agreed. “You’re the king of romance. Now come on, let’s get back to work. It’s almost time for the bell.”
Carole’s father was waiting for her when she got home from school that day. “Honey,” Colonel Hanson said, leading the way into their bright, cozy kitchen, “sit down for a minute. I want to talk to you.”
Carole sank into her usual chair at the pine table and glanced at him, wondering what was going on. “Sure, Dad,” she said. “What’s up?”
Colonel Hanson sat down across from her and folded his hands in front of him. He smiled at her. “So, how did everyone react today when you told them your scores?”
For a second Carole wasn’t even sure what he was talking about. Then she remembered. The PSATs. “Oh,” she said. “Um, Lisa was really impressed.”
That much was true. Apparently, almost all the juniors had received their scores the day before, and Lisa had heard about it. She’d sought out Carole right after homeroom to ask how she’d done. Her expression had been cautiously sympathetic at first, as though she was expecting to have to console Carole on doing poorly. But when Carole had mentioned her score, Lisa’s eyes had widened and she’d looked downright shocked. “Wow,” she’d said slowly. “That’s forty points higher than my score last year.”
“Yes, I’m sure she was,” Colonel Hanson said. “Lisa’s a smart girl. She knows what wonderful news this is for your future.” He sighed happily. “Anyway, how did your friends do? Did Stevie get her scores back?”
“I don’t know.” Carole shrugged. “I’m grounded, reme
mber? And I guess I didn’t think to ask Lisa if she’d talked to her.”
“Ah, yes.” Colonel Hanson stroked his chin thoughtfully. “The grounding. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about, honey.”
“What about it?” Carole felt a pang of concern. Now that her father was so gung ho about the PSATs, was he going to insist that she spend even more time on her homework? Maybe he would even make her give up working with Hometown Hope.
“I’ve been thinking about your punishment,” her father said, leaning forward and gazing at her somberly. “I really want you to understand that what you did—cheating on that test, then lying about it—was very, very wrong.”
Carole nodded. “I know, Dad,” she said. “But listen, I’ve really been trying to keep up in school since then, and I—”
“Wait.” Colonel Hanson held up a hand, interrupting her. “Just let me finish, honey. I was about to say that, after our little talk the other day, I think you really do understand your responsibility in this matter. And that’s a good thing.”
Carole nodded silently. What’s this all about? she wondered, wishing that her father would just get to the point.
“I still believe that you need to be punished for your mistake,” Colonel Hanson went on. “However, I also think you deserve a reward for your excellent scores on the PSATs.”
“A reward?” Carole repeated.
Colonel Hanson nodded. “That’s why I’ve decided to compromise by adjusting your grounding slightly.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “From now on, I’m going to let you go back to spending some time at Pine Hollow.”
Carole gasped. “Wha—?” she sputtered, feeling as though she’d just fallen off the planet into some new, unbelievable world where all her dreams came true. Was she hearing things? Or had her father just said she could go back to riding? “I—wha—”
Before she could spit out anything coherent, her father held up his hand again. “Just a minute,” he said seriously. “This doesn’t mean you can go back to your old schedule. For one thing, you’re still technically grounded. No hanging out at TD’s with your friends, no unnecessary phone calls.”
“But what about Pine Hollow?” Carole choked out, her head whirling like a merry-go-round out of control. “I can go back to riding?”
“Well, as I said, not on your old schedule.” Her father held up a finger. “For one thing, I still don’t want you going back to that job yet. And I don’t want you at the stable every day. We’ll say four days a week for now, and no more than two hours per day.”
That was nowhere near the four or five hours Carole had spent at the stable almost every weekday before her grounding, let alone the ten plus she’d put in on Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays. But it still seemed like a miracle. Jumping out of her chair, she raced around the table and wrapped her arms around her father. “Thank you, Dad!” she mumbled into his neck. “Thank you so much!”
Colonel Hanson turned in his chair and hugged her back. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Thank yourself, for taking that test seriously enough to do so well.”
Carole didn’t answer. Why worry about the reasons he was letting her off the hook? The only important thing was that she could go back to Pine Hollow now, without having to survive through several more endless, dreary weeks without riding. It was so unbelievable and wonderful that she reached down and surreptitiously pinched herself on the leg, just to make sure she wasn’t going to wake up and discover it was all a dream.
Pulling back, she planted a kiss on her father’s forehead. “Well, thanks anyway,” she said. “For being such a great dad. So when does this new arrangement start, exactly?”
“Right now, if you like.” Colonel Hanson smiled. “Go ahead. But remember—two hours. That’s it.”
“Two hours,” Carole repeated eagerly, already heading for the kitchen door. “Got it. See you in two hours.”
She raced upstairs and started digging out her riding gear. I can’t wait to tell my friends the news! she thought as she started peeling off her school clothes. I hope Lisa and Stevie are there today. Callie and the guys, too. They’ll be so surprised. So will Max and Red and Denise and Ben—
She stopped with one leg in her breeches. Ben. Whether or not her other friends were at the stable when she arrived, she could pretty much count on Ben’s being there. Her stomach flipped at the thought of seeing him again so soon.
But that wasn’t the strangest part. The strangest part was that she wasn’t quite sure whether her reaction was due to nervousness—or anticipation.
SEVEN
Stevie glanced at her watch and groaned. “Spike!” she said sharply. “Enough with the drum solo, okay? It’s getting late.”
Spike abruptly stopped hammering his spoon on the table of their booth at TD’s and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Nag, nag, nag,” he said. “That’s all you ever do. Why’d I ever decide to get married in the first place?”
“You got me,” Stevie snapped. She jabbed her pen at the notebook on the table between them, almost spilling her root beer float in the process. “Can we focus here, please?”
As Spike shrugged and glanced at the notebook, Stevie checked her watch again. She was supposed to meet Phil in less than an hour, and she didn’t want to be late. They hadn’t been out on a real date, just the two of them, since before the party that had resulted in Stevie’s grounding.
“All right,” she said briskly, pulling the notebook back from Spike. “Now, we’ve got to get this budget done—unless you want a repeat of this afternoon’s marriage class, that is.”
Spike laughed. “Yeah, that was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” he said complacently, picking up his spoon again and tapping it against his sundae dish.
Stevie scowled at him. Spike might have thought it was hysterical to have everyone laugh at their wedding vows, but she hadn’t been nearly so amused. Her “husband” had stood up in the middle of her improvised vows and dramatically promised to have “only twelve or thirteen affairs a month.”
“It was a laugh riot,” she muttered, glaring at him. Reaching across the table, she grabbed his spoon and tossed it onto the next table, which was empty.
“Hey!” he protested, leaning over to retrieve it. “I’m not done with my ice cream yet.” He dug into his half-melted sundae and made a big production of smacking his lips appreciatively. “Mmmm, that’s the stuff,” he mumbled through a mouthful of ice cream and hot fudge.
Stevie chose to ignore that. “So anyway,” she said, glancing at the notebook, “I’ve already written down a list of stuff we’ll need to include in the budget. Rent or mortgage payments, car insurance, gas, groceries …”
“Don’t forget beer,” Spike broke in. “I’ll need at least six cases a month. More when I have the guys over for poker.”
“Whatever,” Stevie said irritably. “If you’d just be serious about this for ten seconds, we could finish and then we could both go home.”
Spike shrugged and licked his spoon. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I’m serious now. Totally serious. Let me see that.” He grabbed the notebook and Stevie’s pen. “Okay, I see a few things you forgot.”
He scribbled for a few minutes, hiding what he was doing with his other arm. Stevie watched suspiciously. “What are you writing?”
“You’ll see.” Spike jotted a few last words, then handed the notebook back to her. “Check it out. The perfect budget.”
Stevie glanced at what he’d written. Beneath the list she’d made, he had written just three things:
Beer
More beer
Oh yeah, and don’t forget the beer
Stevie felt like throwing the notebook at him, but she gritted her teeth and did her best to control her temper. He’s just trying to bug you, she reminded herself. Chill, and maybe he’ll get bored. She glared at him. He was grinning back at her, looking very proud of himself and tapping his water glass with his spoon. And if not, Stevie added, then you’ll just have to kill him.
&nbs
p; That reminded her of another item she’d forgotten to include in her budget. Yanking her pen out of Spike’s hand, she wrote LIFE INSURANCE in large letters at the top of the list.
“Look,” she told Spike grimly. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do. But marriage class is first period tomorrow, so if we don’t get this done now, we—” She broke off in midsentence as she spotted Veronica diAngelo and Zach Lincoln entering the restaurant.
Aha! she thought excitedly. She’d been trying to find out how Veronica and Zach were doing on the project all day. But when she’d tried to talk to Veronica during gym class, Ms. Monroe had gotten annoyed and made her run laps. At lunch, after talking with Callie, she’d approached Zach. But he’d been sitting with a bunch of his geeky friends, and all she could get out of him before the bell rang was that he’d never actually marry anyone who thought Titanic was a better movie than Star Wars. And after the wedding vow fiasco in marriage class, she hadn’t been in the mood to do anything but slink away as quickly as she could when Miss Fenton released them.
But this could be her big chance to nail down some quotes for her story. “Here,” she said distractedly, shoving the notebook toward Spike again. “Marriage is all about teamwork, right? Well, I did my part of the budget. So you can finish it. For real this time. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Without waiting for an answer, she got up and hurried across the restaurant toward Veronica and Zach, who were just taking a seat at a booth on the opposite wall. Zach glanced up at her approach.
“Oh,” he said flatly, the tic over his left eye jerking at his eyelid. “Stevie. It’s you again.”
“Hi, Zach.” Stevie greeted him with her best smile. “How’s it going?”
Veronica looked startled to see her. “Stevie?” she snapped. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Uh, gee, let me think about that one.” Stevie put a finger to her chin and pretended to ponder the question. “Eating ice cream?”
Veronica tossed her long, smooth dark hair over her shoulder. “Duh,” she said. “What I meant was, no one cool has come here since, like, eighth grade.”
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