The Canterwood Crest Stable of Books

by Jessica Burkhart

  “Definitely,” Callie said. “It’s supposed to be amazing.”

  “Do you know what time it starts?” I asked. “I haven’t seen any flyers that say that.”

  “One of the Orchard girls said she heard it starts at eight,” Callie said. “She said that the start time is always word-of-mouth.”

  “Girls!” Mr. Conner called out. “Now that you’ve warmed up your mouths, let’s get the rest of you warmed up. Please stand in your stirrups and trot.”

  Callie and I whisper-groaned to each other. That was one of the worst torture exercises ever!

  The five of us stood in the stirrups and hovered over our horses’ necks. I braced my hands against Charm’s neck so I wouldn’t jerk on his mouth if I wobbled.

  We made three circles around the arena before Mr. Conner nodded to us to sit.

  “Move them into a slow canter and then change gaits as I call them,” he said. “Try to switch gaits in as few strides as possible.”

  The horses increased their speed to a rocking canter and Sunstruck’s palomino tail fanned out in front of me. Alison rocked with the Arabian’s smooth gait and for a second, I imagined Sunstruck galloping across the desert. He looked like the Black Stallion’s lighter cousin.

  “Trot,” Mr. Conner called.

  I applied pressure to Charm’s mouth and he slowed after three strides. He tossed his head in annoyance—he loved cantering and wanted to keep doing it. I rubbed his neck with one hand to soothe him.

  As we went around the arena, my gaze and my focus settled on Heather. I tried not to get angry, but seeing her now made me think about Friday night all over again. Jacob had never even texted or called that night—and I hadn’t spoken to Heather since I’d stormed out of her little party.

  “Canter,” Mr. Conner called.

  Charm must have understood Mr. Conner’s command because he cantered before I tapped him with my leg. At least he was listening. Ahead of us, Sunstruck continued to trot rather than canter and Charm almost ran up his heels! I veered Charm to the right and kept him from colliding with Sunstruck.

  “Alison!” I shouted. “Canter!”

  “Oh! Sorry!” Alison snapped out of her apparent daydream and Sunstruck started to canter.

  “Walk and bring them to the center, please,” Mr. Conner said. His tone was stern. He frowned at us and we lined up in front of him. “What’s going on?”

  Silence. The horses chomped on the bit and Trix started to crabstep.

  “Anyone?” Mr. Conner questioned. “Can someone please tell me what is distracting you so much this morning that is more important than practicing for regionals?”

  We looked at each other guiltily. Charm lowered his head, too. Mr. Conner walked back and forth in front of us, his black boots scuffing in the arena dirt.

  “Dismount,” Mr. Conner said. “Maybe you’ll pay more attention from the ground.”

  I dismounted and stood beside Charm. Thoughts of the Sweetheart Soirée and Heather and Jacob flew out of my head. Charm and I had to concentrate or I’d be assigned mucking duty.

  When Mr. Conner finally let us go, we were sweaty, dusty, and exhausted. He’d made us lead the horses for half of the lesson—by the time I’d mounted Charm, my legs had been sore and I’d barely been able to catch my breath.

  “We’re gonna be late for class!” Callie yelped, looking at her watch.

  Together, we hurried out of the arena and pulled our horses behind us.

  Heather led Aristocrat past me and handed him to Mike. “I can’t be late. I mean, I was hoping to run into, oh, I don’t know, Jacob in the hallway.”

  My fingers tightened on the reins.

  “We’re supposed to meet up later but—”

  “What’s your problem?” I snapped. “Do you like him?”

  Heather laughed and put her hands in the pockets of her tweed coat. “Does it matter if I like him? He likes me—isn’t that what’s most important?”

  Doug stepped up to me and reached for Charm’s reins. “Sash, let go, please,” he whispered.

  “Oh.” I looked down at my hands and saw my knuckles were white. “Sorry.” I released the reins and Doug led Charm away.

  “C’mon,” Callie said. She tugged my hand. “We’ve got to go. We’re already late.”

  Without another look at Heather, we headed down the aisle.

  “I have to stop thinking about Jacob and Heather!” I said. “It’s messing with my riding.”

  Callie nodded. “Obsess all you want after regionals. But you’ve got to focus. You don’t want to blow it because of them.”

  “I know. You’re right.”

  I didn’t know how Callie did it—she was always so focused. And even though she was my BFF, I knew it wouldn’t feel too good if Callie swept all of her classes at regionals and I didn’t even place in one.

  We walked up the sidewalk and I sucked in a breath of cold air. The late January temps were still freezing and we’d had sleet and a light snow last night. Frozen grass poked through the thin layer of snow. I half-wished for a blizzard so I wouldn’t have to see Heather for a day.

  At the other end of campus, a guy in a dark red winter hat and a black coat waved at me. When I squinted my eyes, I saw that it was Eric. Even across campus, I could see his smile.

  Callie and I waved back.

  “Don’t even say it,” I warned Callie in a grumpy voice.

  Callie pretend-zipped her lips shut, but I could tell she was suppressing a big-time told you so.

  EVIL BLOND ONE, TAKE 3.

  BY WEDNESDAY, PAIGE AND I HAD BECOME pros at the art of distraction.

  Paige had baked so many apple crisps that instead of getting better, they got worse.

  I’d spent too much time staring into space and reorganizing my iPod when I should have been studying.

  “Why don’t you just call him?” Paige asked, looking up from the math homework on her desk.

  “This roommate thing is a little weird—you can read my mind now?”

  “It doesn’t take a mind reader,” Paige said gently.

  “I do want to see him,” I admitted. “He’s usually playing games at the media center now. Maybe I should walk over there.”

  Paige put down her green pen. “Okay. But call him if you don’t find him. Just tell him how you feel. Get some answers.”

  “I promise,” I said. “Wish me luck.”

  On my walk across campus, I called Mom. I’d been too busy with school and riding to talk to my parents much.

  “Hi, honey!” she answered. “How’s your week going?”

  “Fine,” I said. Even though it was babyish, talking to Mom or Dad always made me feel better. “I’m looking for my friend Jacob.” Oops! Probably shouldn’t have said that. Mom and Dad knew I’d been IMing with a guy during break, but they didn’t know who.

  “Well,” Mom said slowly. “I hope you find him. I think. Dad and I are getting ready for your show. We’re excited!”

  “Me, too! Charm’s ready.”

  “You’re both ready.”

  “I guess,” I said. “How’s Dad doing?”

  “Oh, good. He …”

  As my mother launched into a story about my dad’s fantasy football league, I neared the string of little shops by the media center. I passed the Sweet Shoppe—the cozy store on campus that sold the best coffee, muffins, and hot chocolate. I shivered—maybe a cup of something warm to go wasn’t such a bad idea.

  But as soon as I walked inside, my eyes stopped on a table near the fireplace. My mouth dropped open. Heather, sipping from a ceramic coffee mug, sat directly across from Jacob. They had a pile of books between them and … they looked sickeningly adorable together.

  “Mom,” I said into the phone, trying not to sound as devastated as I felt. “I gotta go. Call you later.”

  Heather and Jacob were so deep in conversation, they didn’t even notice me. Jacob’s head tilted toward Heather. He had on his favorite hoodie—the one with Homer Simpson that said �
��Slacker.” The one he told me he was only allowed to wear outside of class. Heather wore a deep purple sweater that was pretty on her and made her blond hair look even blonder and more perfect-looking.

  I felt my chest get warm. How had I been so blind? Heather and Jacob, in the library. Heather and Jacob, in the rec room on the couch together. Heather and Jacob at the Sweet Shoppe. I wasn’t Jacob’s girlfriend and I never would be—Heather was Jacob’s girlfriend—I was his film class partner. Assigned film class partner.

  I stepped backward out the door and onto the crunchy, frozen-over grass, unable to pull my eyes away from the couple inside. Finally, I forced myself to turn around and walk away.

  I didn’t know where I was going, but I couldn’t go back to the dorm. Paige would ask me questions about Jacob or try to make me feel better. I didn’t want to talk about Jacob right now.

  A new wave of tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. I suddenly felt furious. If Jacob liked Heather, he should have told me! I’d probably completely embarrassed myself accusing Heather of stealing Jacob from me … when the truth was, he was never mine to be stolen.

  When I snapped back to reality, I found myself in front of the library. I had been planning to come later today to get the books I needed for my English paper.

  “Just do it now,” I grumbled to myself. At least it would give me something to do, other than mope over Jacob. But before I went inside, pulled out my phone. After this, I would be done—but I needed someone sane to talk me down a little before I went inside.

  I plopped onto the icy step, not caring that my butt would freeze, and pressed speed dial 2.

  “What’s up?” Callie asked.

  “I saw Heather and Jacob together in the Sweet Shoppe,” I blurted out.

  “Uh-oh. Were they kissing?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Hugging?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Then what?” Callie asked, her tone bordering impatient. “Making googly eyes at each other over chai lattes?”

  “They were sitting together,” I said.

  “Sitting together,” Callie repeated. “And you’re mad because …”

  What part of “The Evil Blond One is Stealing My Guy” didn’t she understand?

  “But they’re hanging out together! Again! And Heather is really pretty and has a perfect wardrobe and is an amazing rider and Jacob probably really, really likes her! I see them together all the time, Cal. I think they’re going out.”

  “Sash,” Callie said. “If Jacob liked Heather, he’d tell you. He’s a good guy. You guys were texting all the time over break, and before that, he came to the winter dance for you. And he danced with you—a lot. You said they were just sitting together. And if you overreact, it’ll freak him out. Chill.”

  I stared at the icy ground, suddenly feeling the frigid temperature. “I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, maybe you’re right. Ugh! Why is this so hard?”

  Callie was quiet for a second. “Just don’t worry about it. If you see them kissing, then we’ll make her sorry. Until then, either ask Jacob what’s going on or let it go. You’re making yourself crazy.”

  “Okay, okay.” I took a deep breath. “You’re right.” I stood up. “Thank you for being such a good friend. I’ll text you later?”

  “Definitely,” Callie said.

  We hung up and I stepped inside the library. Maybe researching dead poets would distract me. Nothing in the present was working.

  S & S

  I’D JUST WALKED OUT OF MY LAST CLASS on Monday when my phone rang. I blinked at the phone screen again. Jacob!

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hey, Sash! I haven’t seen you around much in the last week.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ve been really busy,” I said. And kind of avoiding you.

  “Got any free time soon?”

  “Um, sure.”

  “I finished the editing on our film and I wanted you to see it. Can you meet me at the media center in about an hour?”

  Oh. It was school-related. He had to see me.

  “See you then.” I hung up and trudged back to Winchester to unload my books.

  Jacob found me sitting on the couch in one of the smaller common rooms at the media center.

  “Hey,” he said, smiling. He tugged off his black coat and tossed it on the table.

  “Hi.” Even though I didn’t want to smile, I did. He always looked unbelievably cute—it didn’t matter what he wore. We both wore jeans and black sweaters—but mine was accessorized with my letter S necklace and my silver charm bracelet.

  “Wait till you see,” Jacob said. “It’s got music and credits and everything. It looks just like a real documentary.”

  “Really?” Excitement crept into my voice. But I was still mad at him. “How’d you do the music?”

  Jacob popped the DVD into the player and sat next to me on the couch. “Made it. My friend Trent has a band. He composed it himself.”

  “Wow. That was such a great idea.” Our eyes locked for a second.

  Jacob hit play and scooted closer to me. His arm brushed against mine.

  I tried to take even breaths. Relax, I told myself. Just see what happens. But he couldn’t be here with me, brushing his arm against mine, if he was going out with Heather. It had to have been an accident.

  Right?

  The TV lit up. A piano score streamed through the speakers and indigo-blue words began to scroll across the screen. S & S presents an original major motion picture. Starring Sasha Silver, Jacob Schwartz, and Charm. Directed by Jacob Schwartz.

  “This is so cool!” I said. Without thinking, I reached over and took Jacob’s hand. He didn’t even hesitate to grab mine back. I could feel my face flushing bright red.

  As we watched the short film, I realized Jacob wasn’t letting go of my hand.

  The credits rolled all too soon. I could have sat like this for another hour. Or two.

  For a minute, neither of us moved. I started to feel self-conscious of my own heartbeat. Could he hear it as well as I could? Jacob turned to me, his warm hand still folded over mine.

  “We’re movie stars now,” I blurted out, wanting to fill the silence.

  “Well,” Jacob said. “You’re more of a star than me.”

  “Oh,” I said, blushing again. “Well, you did a really good job editing it.”

  Jacob let go of my hand to eject the DVD and turned back to look at me. “I’ve kind of …” His eyes flickered down and then back at me. “… um, missed you lately.”

  !!!!!

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Sorry things were weird that night with Heather,” he said. “She must have gotten confused about who she invited. I left five minutes after you.”

  “But I thought—”

  Jacob shook his head. “I only went because I thought you’d be there.”

  I looked down at my hands in my lap, hoping he’d reach out to hold my hand again. I wanted to believe him, but I was still thinking about seeing him with Heather at the Sweet Shoppe.

  “So,” Jacob said. “Are we … okay?”

  I smiled when he picked up one of my hands again.

  “Because I was wondering if you’re going to the Sweetheart Soirée?”

  I tried not to look as if I’d been waiting weeks for him to ask me about it. “Yes,” I barely choked out. “With, um, Paige and Callie.”

  “Right. Because you can’t show up with a date, right?”

  Eeeeee! Just hearing the word “date” was enough to wake the butterflies in my stomach.

  “Right,” I said. “No dates—at least, that’s what the flyer said.”

  Jacob squeezed my hand. “Well, I’ll just have to look for you there, then.”

  I fought the urge to re-gloss.

  “I guess that would be okay.” I smiled.

  “Oh, you guess?” Jacob laughed. “Well, do you guess it might be okay if I treat you to a hot chocolate?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “I guess th
at you could lure me with hot chocolate. As long as it has marshmallows.”

  Jacob laughed and pulled me to my feet. “You’re very demanding.”

  At the Sweet Shoppe, we sat across from each other in a booth. It was warm inside and I was giddy with excitement. It felt like our first few get-togethers last fall.

  “Mmm,” I said, licking hot chocolate off my lips. “So good!”

  Jacob stuck his spoon in his mug and fished around for marshmallows. When he found some, he spooned them into my mug.

  Swoon.

  “So,” he said, “What’s going on with riding?”

  “I’ve got regionals on Saturday,” I said. “I’ve been practicing like crazy.”

  “Regionals? That’s a big deal, right?”

  I swallowed my sip of marshmallows, nodding. “I’m trying not to get nervous.”

  “Don’t be.” Jacob smiled. “You’ll do great.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Here’s to first place,” Jacob said, raising his mug.

  “And to movie stardom,” I said, holding mine up.

  We laughed and clinked our glasses together.

  “So I guess Jacob isn’t going out with Heather!” I squealed into my phone. I was walking back to Winchester and had called Callie the second Jacob had left. I quickly highlighted all of the good parts from the past hour.

  “Told you!” Callie said. “They’re just friends.”

  “He wants to see me at the Soirée,” I said, pulling my scarf up over my chin.

  “We’ll make sure you look gorgeous,” Callie assured me. “I’ve got to study right now. But call me later?”

  “Later,” I agreed.

  I enjoyed the slow, quiet walk across campus back to my dorm. A few snowflakes floated from the sky. I stopped, turned my face upward and took a minute to breathe. Things finally felt good again.

  TOMORROW, TOMORROW!

  TGIF WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. THIS WEEK, I’d aced an English quiz and Paige had finished her history project.

  I was exhausted from another grueling week of practice, but Mr. Conner wasn’t letting up. The show was tomorrow and he wanted us prepared. I was definitely prepared—prepared to drop. The grimaces on the Trio’s and Callie’s faces at practice suggested they wanted a day off, too.