“I guess so.”
Betsy and Nicole had moved out of sight, but Callie had just spotted Valerie Watkins, Scott’s main competitor, standing near the refreshment table with several friends. They were all staring at Scott, which wasn’t particularly strange. But then Valerie pushed her glasses up on her nose and turned her head from side to side, obviously searching for someone in the crowds. Finally her gaze landed on Callie. When she saw Callie staring back at her, she blinked and turned away quickly, grabbing the nearest friend and whispering something. The friend cast Callie a brief glance, then turned away, covering her face to hide a smile.
Callie frowned. Didn’t the people at this dance have anything better to do than laugh at her date? She was getting fed up with it. The worst part was that she knew that if she had actually been interested in George, other people’s reactions wouldn’t have bothered her at all. She wouldn’t even have noticed them. But as it was, she felt herself cringing at their watchful eyes, their laughter and whispers. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.
At that moment the deejay switched to a slow, dreamy song, and Callie bit back a groan as George turned to her. “Had enough rest yet?” he asked hopefully.
“Um …” The last thing she felt like doing was slow-dancing with George, but what could she say?
“Uh, hey, Callie.” A new voice interrupted her thoughts. Glancing up, she saw a tall, broad-shouldered guy with longish brown hair standing in front of her.
She vaguely recognized him from her Latin class—she was pretty sure they’d been in the same discussion group a couple of weeks earlier. She searched her memory for his name. Kenny, she remembered. Kenny Lamb.
“Hey, Kenny,” she greeted him brightly, relieved at the timely interruption. “How’s it going?”
Kenny glanced uncertainly at George, who had already started to climb to his feet and was caught in an awkward half-standing position. He was looking up at Kenny with wide, startled eyes. “Look, I don’t want to interrupt anything or whatever,” Kenny said, turning back to Callie. “But I was just wondering if, well, if you’d like to dance.”
“Sure,” Callie said quickly. She tried not to notice George’s crestfallen expression as she stood, wavering slightly on her bad leg. She felt guilty about accepting the other guy’s offer, especially when George had already all but asked her himself, but the strain of pretending she was having fun was really getting to her. She needed a break. “As long as you don’t mind holding me up a little.” She gestured at her crutches, still leaning against the bleachers.
“No problem at all.” Kenny grinned and held out his arm.
Callie gave George a quick smile. “See you in a minute, okay?” she said, doing her best to avoid his forlorn gaze.
“Um, okay,” he said softly. “I’ll be right here.”
Callie felt her heart twist with pity. But all she could think of was getting away from him for a little while, taking a few deep breaths, and figuring out what to do. Without another backward glance, she took Kenny’s arm and limped toward the dance floor at his side, feeling as if she’d just escaped from prison.
EIGHT
Lisa was feeling at loose ends. She stretched and yawned, glancing up from her calculus homework to check the time on the digital clock by her bed. It was almost nine-thirty, which meant that Rafe would probably be turning up at any moment—her mother had mentioned that he was coming over after his shift at the store. Lisa grimaced at the thought. Under most circumstances she would have been thrilled that her mother was finally seeing somebody. Mrs. Atwood had been bitter and depressed ever since her divorce from Lisa’s father, and Lisa knew it was doing her mother a lot of good to get out and have fun again.
But why did she have to choose Rafe? Lisa wondered. She had disliked her mother’s new boyfriend from the moment she met him, and not only because he was a good twenty years younger than Mrs. Atwood. His lazy, laid-back attitude really rubbed her the wrong way. Of course, it also hadn’t helped that she’d had no idea of his existence until the day she’d walked in on him groping her mother in the living room.
Lisa shook her head and pushed back her chair. She couldn’t stay there with Rafe coming over. She wasn’t in the mood to be polite to him tonight.
She walked briskly toward her bedroom door, then stopped, wondering where exactly she could go. If only Alex weren’t grounded, she thought, we’d be at the dance right now, having fun.
Still, she had no interest in going to the dance without her boyfriend, no matter how desperate she was to get out. Visiting Alex and Stevie was out, too, of course—their parents were being pretty strict about visitors.
Her gaze wandered to the top shelf of her bookcase, where the riding trophies and ribbons she’d won over the years were displayed. She smiled, suddenly realizing the answer to her problem was right there in front of her.
Of course, she thought. I’ll go to Pine Hollow. I haven’t checked on Prancer in a couple of days.
She knew it was a little late by stable standards—the horses would have been fed their evening meal, and Max was probably up at his house on the hill beyond the stable, helping his wife put their two daughters to bed. Red and Denise would have departed as well, driving off in Denise’s battered pickup to the apartment they shared in town.
But I’d bet a cookie that Carole’s still there, Lisa thought, giving her reflection a quick check in the mirror over her dresser before heading for the door once again. She’s been spending all her time there getting ready for the horse show. It will be good for the two of us to hang out for a while. Make sure things are back to normal between us after what happened last weekend.
Lisa had been furious with Carole when she’d learned that Carole had told Alex about what Skye had said. But she had quickly realized that it had been an accident. The two of them had made up the day after the party, but Lisa hadn’t forgotten the incident, and she was sure Carole hadn’t either. It couldn’t hurt to spend a little time together and finish working things out.
Hurrying down the stairs, Lisa glanced around for her mother. But Mrs. Atwood was nowhere to be seen, and Lisa soon deduced that she was in the shower getting ready for her date. Lisa couldn’t help feeling relieved. She would be able to escape without taking a chance of getting sucked into a conversation about all Rafe’s wonderful qualities, which was the only thing her mother seemed to talk about these days. After scribbling a note explaining where she was going, Lisa went to the refrigerator and dug out the plastic freezer bag of carrot pieces that she’d prepared for the next time she saw Prancer. Then she slipped on her jacket, dropped the bag in her pocket, and headed outside, deciding to walk instead of drive. Pine Hollow was only ten minutes’ walk through the fields, it was a warm night for early November, and she wasn’t in a hurry.
When she reached the stable grounds and crossed the gravel parking lot, Lisa saw that her guess had been right. The only car parked there was Carole’s dingy, sagging red-and-rust sedan.
Lisa let herself into the stable. The bright overheads were still on, and she could hear the sound of hoofbeats from the propped-open doorway of the indoor ring. Peeking inside, Lisa saw that Carole was riding Samson over a jump course in the center of the ring, her face intense with concentration. Lisa stood and watched them for a moment, admiring the fluid movements and almost effortless jumping action of the big black gelding. It was hard to believe sometimes that this was the same Samson she and her friends had helped bring into the world, the same feisty little colt that had struggled to stand on his long, spindly legs, almost tipping over when his dam turned to nose at him gently.…
Thinking about foals reminded her of Prancer. Slipping away to give Carole time to finish her workout, Lisa turned down the aisle leading to the mare’s stall.
Prancer was dozing in the corner of her stall when Lisa poked her head over the door, but she awoke with a start and came forward eagerly when Lisa unlatched the door to let herself inside.
“Hey, sweetie,”
Lisa greeted the horse fondly. She rubbed her neck and scratched her under her mane. “Looks like I caught you napping. Feel like going for a walk?”
Earlier that week, Max had suggested that Lisa help him out by leading Prancer slowly around the stable several times a week to let her stretch her legs, since she was confined to her stall or Pine Hollow’s smallest paddock most of the time because of her risky pregnancy. He had made the suggestion casually, implying that he had only thought of Lisa for the job because she was the one who’d ridden Prancer the most over the last few years. Lisa had agreed, holding back her knowing smile until Max had moved on. She didn’t want him to catch on that Carole had let her in on a wonderful, amazing secret—that Mr. Atwood was in the process of arranging to buy the mare from Pine Hollow as a surprise graduation gift for Lisa. Graduation wasn’t until June, the same month that Prancer’s foals were due. Sometimes Lisa wondered if she would be able to carry on that long without giving herself away. Every time she looked at the beautiful, gentle, sweet-natured Thoroughbred she’d grown to love so much over the years—the only horse she could imagine owning—she felt alternating thrills of joy and nervousness. After all, they still had to get through this pregnancy, and a lot of things could happen when twins were involved.
Clipping a lead rope to the mare’s halter, Lisa led her out of the stall. Prancer placed her long legs carefully as she crossed the threshold, snorting softly and keeping her head close to Lisa’s shoulder.
“I know,” Lisa said. “It feels good to get out of that stall for a while, right?”
She led Prancer down the long aisle toward the back exit. On her way over, Lisa had decided that it was more than warm enough to take Prancer outdoors for her exercise. The fresh air would do them both good. Soon the two of them were walking down the hard-packed path leading past the back paddock and a couple of outbuildings before curving around to return to the stable.
As they walked, Lisa’s mind wandered forward to the wonderful day when Prancer’s foals—she was being optimistic and thinking in the plural, though she was aware that there was a good chance both babies wouldn’t survive—were weaned and the mare was all Lisa’s. Still, Lisa was sensible enough to realize that she had some important decisions to make before that day ever arrived.
She sighed, wondering if it had even occurred to her father that owning a horse could have a real impact on her college plans. Lisa had long since come up with a list of eight schools she planned to apply to, and she had already sent off her applications for four of them—two in Virginia and two in Southern California. Keeping Prancer nearby wouldn’t be a problem at any of the four. The Virginia schools were both less than two hours’ drive from Willow Creek—NVU, the school that had already accepted her, was only forty miles away—which meant that she would be able to continue to board Prancer at Pine Hollow and ride her on weekends. The other two schools were close to where her father lived, which meant not only that he could help her find a stable where she could board her, but also that there would be someone to check on the mare during Lisa’s visits back East.
“But what about the next two schools on my list?” Lisa murmured to Prancer, reaching up to scratch her under the chin. “I mean, one of them’s in the middle of Boston, and the other one’s in Chicago. Where would I keep you then? Who would help me take care of you, make sure you were getting enough exercise?”
Prancer didn’t answer, of course, and Lisa sighed, knowing it was up to her to come up with a course of action. The problem wasn’t going to go away, and she’d be better off facing that now and adjusting her plans accordingly. If owning Prancer was going to mean that she couldn’t go to those far-flung schools, it would be better if she didn’t even waste her time applying.
Of course, to be honest with herself, Lisa had to admit that Prancer was only one of the reasons she was worried about some of the colleges on her list. She had chosen them in her usual thoughtful, rational way, deciding that they offered courses that interested her and had excellent academic reputations as well as diverse social opportunities and extracurricular activities.
But now that she was faced with the idea of actually going to them—of flying off to some strange city, where she wouldn’t know a soul, miles and miles from her family and friends—she was having serious doubts. How would her relationship with Alex survive another separation? He would still have another year of high school to go, so that would mean a minimum of a year apart. It had been hard enough for him to deal with her being gone for a couple of months the previous summer—she wasn’t sure how he would handle a longer separation, no matter how many academic advantages those faraway schools offered.
Alex wasn’t the only one she would be leaving behind, either. Her mother had been a lot more self-sufficient since she’d started dating Rafe, but Lisa was afraid that when the relationship crashed—and she was sure it would, probably sooner rather than later—Mrs. Atwood would slide back into the gloomy, helpless mood that had consumed her before. Would she see Lisa’s departure as yet another betrayal?
Then there were Lisa’s friends, of course. She knew that Carole and Stevie would stand by her decision, no matter what it was. But it would be hard to be so far from her best friends, especially since they, like Alex, would still be in high school.
“It doesn’t really seem worth it when you get right down to it, does it, girl?” Lisa mused aloud, pausing on the path to allow Prancer to stretch her nose curiously toward a branch of the gnarled old apple tree near the paddock. “I mean, to go through all that and not even be near Dad, like I would be at the colleges in California …” She didn’t bother to carry the thought any further, realizing that while there were a few big advantages to the schools in California, her boyfriend and her mother would probably have even more of a problem with her going there than they would with the schools in Chicago and Boston.
She sighed with frustration, staring off into space as Prancer lowered her head to nibble at a patch of grass near the apple tree. No matter how many times she listed the pros and cons of every possible decision, she still didn’t know what to do. Those faraway schools offered plenty of academic challenges. But was that enough to make up for what she would be leaving behind? She wished she believed in fortunetellers. This year would be a whole lot easier if she had some kind of idea what her future would bring.
“What do you think, Prancer?” Lisa asked. “Which school do you think is the best one for me—or rather, for us?”
Prancer nudged at her shoulder, bored with the grass, and Lisa suddenly remembered the bag full of carrot pieces in her pocket. Fishing it out, she offered the mare several of the carrots on her open palm.
“There you go,” she said as Prancer quickly slurped up the snack, then looked at her, waiting for more. Max and the vet had okayed treats for the pregnant mare as long as she didn’t overdo it, so Lisa had carefully rationed out a small portion. She shook the rest of the carrot pieces out of the bag.
It didn’t take long for Prancer to finish off the treats. She snorted and shoved at Lisa’s chest, clearly looking for yet another helping.
“Sorry,” Lisa said, giving Prancer a pat. “That’s it for today, okay?”
Prancer didn’t seem satisfied with that. She nosed curiously at Lisa’s jacket pocket and a moment later came up with something clutched firmly in her big teeth.
“Hey,” Lisa protested with a laugh. “What are you doing, you big goofball? That’s not edible. It’s just …” She paused, not sure what it was that Prancer had grabbed except that it was some kind of folded paper. “That better not be my computer science problem sheet,” she warned jokingly, yanking the papers away from the mare and wiping them on her jeans. “I don’t think my teacher would believe me if I told him that a horse ate my …”
Her voice trailed off as she looked at the paper and realized what it was. It was her acceptance letter to Northern Virginia University. Until that moment, she’d completely forgotten shoving it into her jacket pocket the day before
.
Lisa stared at the letter for a long moment before turning to gaze at Prancer, who had given up on treats and was nibbling at the grass again. “Wow,” Lisa muttered. “That’s weird. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you just answered my question about where I should go to school next year.”
She blinked. She had meant the comment jokingly. But suddenly she wondered if she wasn’t missing something here. Maybe Prancer had grabbed the letter randomly, but that didn’t mean that Lisa couldn’t take it as a sign—a little nudge from the cosmos, a hint about what she should do.
NVU, she thought, feeling her heart start to beat a little faster. They’ve already accepted me into their honors program. They even offered me a scholarship. It’s a good college, with most of the courses I want, and it’s close to home. What more am I looking for? Am I making things too difficult for myself by worrying so much about those other schools?
She stared at Prancer, her mind suddenly flooded with images of how easy it could be. All she had to do was follow this omen and make the decision to go to NVU, and everything else would fall into place. Her future with Prancer would be assured, since the mare could remain at Pine Hollow. Alex would be so thrilled that she would be close to home next year that he probably wouldn’t even remember to be upset about her Thanksgiving trip to California. Her mother would feel better having her relatively close to home. Both her parents would have an easier time paying her tuition, since NVU was one of the least expensive schools on her list and she’d been awarded scholarship money. Lisa could still spend plenty of time with her friends. She even knew a few people who already attended NVU—Stevie’s older brother, Chad; a couple of old friends from riding camp; some acquaintances from school—and she probably wouldn’t be the only Willow Creek High student from her class to enroll there in the fall, so she would start off knowing people instead of having to start all over again trying to make new friends. In general, she wouldn’t have to worry anymore about any of the problems that had been nagging at her lately—she’d be free to enjoy her senior year of high school.
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