“I never tried out for varsity,” Sheila replied with a mild, self-satisfied smile. “I considered it, but I knew it would be a major time commitment and I didn’t want to spread myself too thin. You know, what with student government, the school paper, the select chorale, yearbook, honor society meetings—all that stuff was already taking up so much time, I didn’t think it was a good idea to take on another activity.”
Not to mention the fact that all through sophomore year the JV coach kept threatening to cut you if you tripped over your big clumsy feet one more time. The catty comment formed itself automatically in her mind. Callie opened her mouth to deliver it with her most practiced ironic tone, ready to cut Sheila back down to size.
But she stopped herself just in time, smiling blandly instead. I do want to change, she thought a bit desperately. I really do. But how can I when everything in me wants to prove myself to Sheila, just like always?
Somehow Callie survived through the rest of dinner. For once she was actually grateful that both her parents loved to talk so much, since they kept Sheila busy trading gossip and news. As she rose to help clear the table, Callie checked her watch.
Good, she thought with relief. The others should be here soon.
As if on cue, the doorbell chimed.
“I’ll get it,” Callie said quickly. She glanced at Sheila. “It’s probably those friends I told you about. Like I said, I invited them to stop by after dinner.”
Sheila nodded agreeably. “Sounds like fun.”
Mrs. Forester smiled. “Oh, Sheila, they’re marvelous people,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll really like them. Why don’t you two girls run along and show everyone into the family room? I’ll be in in a moment with a little dessert or something for all of you, all right?”
“Thanks, Mom.” Callie knew that the “little dessert or something” was sure to turn out to be one of her mother’s usual understated yet impressive spreads, the kind of casually elegant party food that most people had catered but that Mrs. Forester could whip up herself on the spur of the moment.
Leaving Scott to help clear the table, Callie hurried to the front hall. Sheila followed. “I can’t wait to see who you’ve been hanging with out here, Callie,” Sheila commented with a laugh. “Every time I try to imagine what the kids in Virginia must be like, I keep picturing the people on that old TV show, Hee Haw. I know they’re not really anything like that—are they?”
“See for yourself.” Callie swung open the door and found Stevie, Phil, and Alex standing on the other side. She stood back to let them enter. “Hi, guys,” she said. “Come on in and meet Sheila.”
Sheila was standing back a little. As Callie turned, she saw her friend discreetly sizing up the newcomers.
“This is Phil Marsten,” Callie said politely. “Phil, my friend from back home, Sheila. And this is Alex Lake. Alex, meet Sheila.”
Sheila shook hands with the two boys, smiling approvingly. Callie wasn’t surprised. Phil and Alex were right up Sheila’s alley. She liked her guys tall, broad-shouldered, and cute, and both of these guys fit that bill.
Meanwhile, Stevie stepped forward. “Hi,” she said in her usual straightforward way. “I’m Alex’s sister, Stevie.” She stuck out her hand. “I don’t usually admit that he and I are related,” she joked, “but since you’re Callie’s friend …”
Sheila took Stevie’s hand and chuckled politely, but this time her smile seemed the slightest bit frosty, at least to Callie’s practiced eye. Suddenly seeing Stevie as Sheila must’ve seen her—her well-worn blue jeans coming apart at the knees, her sneakers with the ratty laces and a hole in one toe, her faded Pine Hollow T-shirt with an old denim shirt over it—Callie cringed with embarrassment. Why did Stevie always have to dress like some kind of refugee? Couldn’t she wear something decent for an occasion like this? It wasn’t as though her lawyer parents couldn’t afford to buy her decent clothes. After all, Alex looked perfectly presentable in khakis and a polo shirt.
Just then Stevie turned to Callie. “Have you heard from Lisa?” she asked. “I know she was really worried about her paper. I hope it’s going okay.” She turned to Sheila. “Our friend Lisa is totally brilliant,” she explained proudly, “but she doesn’t even realize it, especially when she’s in the middle of a tough assignment.”
At Stevie’s words, Callie felt a rush of shame sweep over her. She hadn’t even remembered that Lisa was working on her English paper that afternoon, but naturally Stevie had. Stevie was a good friend. I shouldn’t be so critical about stupid stuff like clothes, she thought, feeling angry with herself. No wonder I’m having trouble relating to Sheila. I can’t expect her to share all her innermost thoughts and feelings if I’m always sizing her up, looking for weaknesses. What kind of shallow, stuck-up person am I, anyway? She frowned at herself. I’m surprised Stevie and the others even put up with me.
Doing her best to hide her tumultuous thoughts, Callie led the others into the large, comfortable family room to their left. Unlike the more formal living room across the hall, the family room was decorated in bright, cheerful colors and cozy furnishings. One wall was dominated by a huge, brick-fronted fireplace, and another by an entertainment system complete with television, VCR, and stereo.
Stevie, as usual, made herself at home right away. Flopping down on the couch, she glanced at her watch. “I was afraid we were going to be late,” she told Callie. “Phil and I were right on schedule, of course, but when we stopped by my house to pick up Alex, he was still eating.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “How was your flight, Sheila?” he asked, pointedly ignoring his sister. “Callie told us you were flying in from Boston.”
As Sheila perched on the hearth and started chatting with Alex and Phil, Callie went over and sat down beside Stevie. She was already feeling a little better now that the informal party had started. Callie wasn’t usually a party person—she preferred dealing with people one on one. But in this case, she felt she needed some support from her new friends. Callie wasn’t afraid of a challenge. If she were, she wouldn’t have taken up a sport like endurance riding. She had competed in races where only her iron will kept her going over rough terrain, through terrible weather. Once she had ridden the last six miles of a fifty-mile race in pouring rain, on a course she had never ridden before, with a broken shoelace and a badly bruised kneecap. Her recuperation after the accident was another example of how far she could go on sheer determination. Instead of giving in to despair when she learned the extent of the damage done to her body, Callie had taken her doctors’ diagnosis as a challenge, forcing her unresponsive muscles to relearn their tasks as quickly as possible in her quest to regain full strength and mobility.
But changing her relationship with Sheila was different. For one thing, it already seemed much more difficult and confusing than anything she had faced before. Callie wasn’t certain where this challenge would lead her. The rewards were there, to be sure, but they weren’t as clear or as easy to grasp as a golden endurance trophy or a brisk walk across a room without leaning on her crutches. What did she want from her oldest friend, anyway? She needed her new friends to remind her by example.
At that moment Mrs. Forester walked in, bearing a tray loaded with cookies and brownies. Scott was behind her with a large pitcher of lemonade. “Dig in,” Mrs. Forester sang out, expertly arranging napkins, glasses, and treats on the wide wooden coffee table.
“Gladly.” Stevie eagerly reached for the largest brownie on the platter. “Yum! Good thing Emily’s not here yet,” she said with a grin. “She loves your walnut brownies even more than I do, Mrs. Forester.”
Mrs. Forester smiled and thanked Stevie, then graciously excused herself and disappeared, leaving the kids alone once again. “Emily?” Callie repeated slowly. She gulped, running over the past few days in her memory. “Um, did you mention to her that we’d be getting together tonight? I think I forgot to tell her about it the other day.”
“I don’t think so,” Stevie replied, tak
ing another large bite of her brownie.
Callie bit her lip. “Oops. I guess I messed up.”
Stevie merely shrugged and leaned over to accept the glass of lemonade that Phil had just poured for her. But Callie felt horrible about the mix-up. How could she have forgotten to invite Emily? Had it really been an innocent oversight? Or had she neglected to invite Emily because subconsciously she knew Emily wasn’t the kind of friend who was likely to impress Sheila? Emily was a wonderful person, but most people tended to notice her crutches and her stiff, clumsy walk long before they noticed her brilliant smile or her offbeat sense of humor. Besides that, Emily had a direct, candid, almost childlike quality that sometimes made her seem much more different from the average sixteen-year-old than her cerebral palsy did. Somehow, Callie couldn’t imagine how Sheila would react to Emily. Would she see her for the wonderful, special person she was, the person who was helping Callie more than anyone else to gain the strength to walk again? Or would she see her as a weird handicapped kid who talked too much?
Callie wondered if she was being unfair to Sheila. She couldn’t help remembering too many times in the past when the two of them had made fun of people who were different—too fat, too skinny, poorly dressed, or just not quite cool enough. But most of that had been years ago, when they were just kids who didn’t know any better. They were both older now, more mature. Besides, if Callie was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit that she had started that childhood teasing at least as often as Sheila had. If she had become a more open-minded person as she got older and wiser, surely Sheila had, too.
As Callie struggled with her thoughts, Stevie was chewing her brownie slowly and watching Sheila talk to Alex. The two of them were still sitting near the fireplace, chatting and laughing together.
So this is Sheila, Stevie mused, doing her best to observe the other girl without seeming to stare. Luckily, Phil and Scott were standing nearby having one of their interminable conversations about football, so Stevie could pretend to listen to them while actually concentrating on Sheila.
So far, she wasn’t quite sure what to think of Callie’s friend. Stevie tended to size people up pretty quickly, but she wasn’t especially critical of them at first meeting. She tended to look for people’s good qualities first and try to like them. Unless someone was a total snob or a real jerk, she preferred to give them the benefit of the doubt, to judge them likable until proven unlikable.
Sheila certainly didn’t seem snobby in the way Veronica diAngelo and her clique were, and so far she had been perfectly nice to Stevie and the others. But Stevie still found herself uncertain what to think. There was something about the way Sheila looked at people—something a little too observant, maybe?
Then again, Stevie had to admit that maybe she was just looking for an excuse not to like Sheila because of the way she had latched on to her twin. Stevie’s eyes narrowed slightly as Sheila put her hand on Alex’s arm and leaned forward to whisper something to him. Alex grinned in response, and Sheila shook back her thick dark hair and let out a throaty giggle. Stevie couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but she didn’t really care. The only thing she cared about was that Sheila was flirting with her brother in a big way, and Alex didn’t even seem to mind.
To be fair, I guess Sheila has no way of knowing that Alex is spoken for. And he’s so clueless about this stuff that it would probably never occur to him that she’s flirting her head off, let alone that he should realize it might be a good idea to mention Lisa’s name, Stevie thought. Still, I wish Lisa would hurry up and get here already and put a stop to this.
She hardly heard the phone ringing in the other room, but a moment later Mrs. Forester stuck her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, kids,” she said. “Just wanted to let you know that Lisa just called.”
“What did she say?” Callie asked. “Is she coming?
“Such a lovely, polite girl,” Mrs. Forester said. “She was just calling to apologize for being late and explain that she’s finishing up her homework. She’ll be here in a little while.”
“Great!” Stevie exclaimed with a grin. “That’s great.”
Mrs. Forester looked amused. “My my, Stevie. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were the one dating Lisa instead of Alex.”
Stevie grinned weakly as the others laughed, but secretly she was thanking Mrs. Forester for the comment. There’s no way Sheila could have missed that one, she thought, sneaking a glance at the dark-haired girl. Sure enough, Sheila had a slight frown on her face. She stood and walked toward the coffee table, where she helped herself to a cookie and then looked around, as if seeking someone new to talk to.
Stevie breathed a sigh of relief. “So, Sheila,” she said, suddenly feeling much friendlier toward the visitor. She patted the sofa cushion beside her. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’m sure you must have some good stories about what Callie was like as a little girl.”
Stevie was still chatting with Sheila when Lisa arrived twenty minutes later, breathless and full of apologies. “It was my paper,” Lisa explained to Callie. “I just couldn’t get the last paragraph right. I must have rewritten it twenty times.”
“No problem.” Callie handed Lisa a glass of lemonade. “You’re not even the last one here. Carole hasn’t showed up yet.”
Stevie frowned, realizing it was true. She glanced at her watch. Where was Carole, anyway?
Lisa looked surprised, too. “Maybe she forgot it was tonight,” she said uncertainly. “You know how she can be.”
That’s probably it, Stevie decided. Carole was flaking out again, working late at the stable. She had probably lost track of time as usual, more concerned with making sure every strand of Starlight’s mane was lying smoothly than with the plans she had made. Stevie rolled her eyes at the thought.
As Callie pulled Sheila away to introduce her to Lisa, Stevie leaned back against the sofa cushions. After talking with Sheila for a while, Stevie still wasn’t sure what she thought of her, but she was doing her best to keep an open mind. All that really mattered was what Callie thought. Regardless of her own opinion about Sheila, Stevie still wanted Callie to learn to open up more with her closest and oldest friend.
Best friends should trust each other, she told herself. That’s the way things work. Unbidden, an image of Phil angrily grabbing A.J.’s arm popped into her mind. The way they should work, anyway. She was still having trouble reconciling the new A.J., the brooding, silent, sullen A.J. who lay on his bed and stared at nothing, with the likable, fun-loving A.J. she had known for so many years.
She was still turning that one over in her mind a few minutes later when Carole finally walked into the room. She was dressed in one of her typical stable outfits—worn jodhpurs and a T-shirt.
“Hey!” Scott called. “You made it. We were starting to think you got lost in the hayloft or something.”
Carole looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” Callie gave her brother a chastising glance. “We’re just glad you’re here. Help yourself to some cookies. If you just came from the stable, you must be starving.”
“Thanks, Callie.” Carole wandered toward the coffee table and perched on the edge of the couch beside Stevie. She reached for a butterscotch brownie.
“Come on, Carole,” Stevie said teasingly. “You can tell me the truth. Did you lose track of time because Starlight slobbered on your watch while you were hugging him and murmuring sweet nothings in his ear? Or did you just get distracted trying to figure out which horse in the stable has the prettiest mane?”
Carole glanced at her, looking slightly annoyed. “Very funny, Stevie,” she said. “If you must know, I was with Samson. I can’t blow off his training just to rush over to hang out with you guys, you know.”
Now it was Stevie’s turn to be surprised. Carole’s words had been uncharacteristically testy. Besides that, she was almost an hour late. Carole could be flaky about getting places on time, but she was usually perfectly willing to
admit it.
“Whatever,” she said. “I was just kidding. We were kind of worried when you didn’t show up for so long.”
Carole shrugged. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of tired.”
Stevie nodded absently. Her thoughts were already drifting away from Carole, back to her encounter with A.J. It had given her a weird, scary feeling to see him in his room earlier. It had almost seemed as if she were looking at a totally different person. How could someone—someone she thought she knew almost as well as she knew Phil himself—change overnight like that? What could have happened? What could he be hiding from even his best, most caring friends?
She sighed. She was starting to see why Carole and Ben Marlow and others like them sometimes seemed to prefer horses to people. Sometimes horses were easier to figure out.
If a horse is sick, it shows it through its symptoms, Stevie thought. If a horse is scared, it lets you know in no uncertain terms. If a horse has serious problems—faults in conformation, broken wind, stable vices, whatever—you can figure out what’s wrong just by looking, maybe calling the vet. It’s different with people. All our worst conformation faults are inside, where others only see if we let them. She shook her head grimly, remembering the dull, hopeless look in A.J.’s eyes. And when we start keeping the bad stuff a secret, even our friends can’t help us.
SEVEN
“Group two, that’s enough. Rest time,” the phys ed teacher barked. “Group three, you’re up.”
Stevie jogged toward the gym bleachers with the rest of group two. She flopped down dramatically on the lowest bleacher beside Callie. “Finally,” she panted. “I thought she was never going to let us stop doing those push-ups.”
Callie laughed. “Almost makes me glad I get to sit out gym class this term,” she said. “I forgot how horrible these state fitness tests can be.”
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