Comeback (4 page)

“Let's go,” Lexa said.

We strapped on our Lexington helmets and maneuvered our horses through the
busy aisle. Outside, puffy clouds muted the sunlight, and the air was warm but not
hot.

Cole, another rider on our team, was waiting and mounted on his black
gelding, Valentino.

“Hey,” he said to Lexa and me. “Friday! Finally,
right?”

“If I had
one
more
class, my brain would explode,” Lexa said, halting Honor.

“Same,” I said. Whisper stopped beside Honor, and I swung
myself into her saddle. “You doing anything fun tonight, Cole?”

He nodded, grinning. “Going with a group of guys to see the new
slasher flick at the media center. This week at school was scarier than anything
I'm going to see on the screen.”

We laughed.

“We're sleeping over at Clare's,” Lexa said.
“Since Her Highness, aka Riley, is away, we're actually allowed to hang with
Clare and visit her room. Khloe's coming, too.”

Cole patted Valentino's neck, looking up at us with teasing bright
green eyes. “Aw, you girls are going to paint your nails, braid each other's
hair, and have a pillow fight.”

“Totally,” I said. “Don't forget the pints of Ben
& Jerry's we're going to eat.”

Hoofbeats struck the gravel, and Clare, followed closely by Drew, headed
for us. They greeted us and both mounted. I tried not to look-slash-stare at Drew
immediately.

“Did I hear someone say something about Ben &
Jerry's?” Drew asked.

Okay, now that he'd spoken, that made it legit for me
to look at him. I glanced over at him. We'd formed an
irregular kind of semicircle in the yard.

Drew looked
très parfait
on horseback. He
sat tall on Polo, his blood bay gelding. His cropped black hair was hidden beneath his
helmet, and his dark blue eyes stood out against his pale skin. A swimmer and a rider,
Drew had an athletic body. He was in shape but didn't look as though he spent most
of his life in the gym.

“Yeah,” I said to him. “The girls and I plus Khloe are
sleeping at Clare's tonight. We're going to raid the freezer for anything
with chocolate, sprinkles, caramel. You know, anything of the ice cream
variety.”

Drew and Cole shot each other glances. “What if one of
us
wants ice cream?” Drew asked, tilting his head and
smiling.

“You're really going to leave us frozen-dairy-less?”
Cole asked, mock-wide-eyed.

“We are,” Clare said, grinning. “But maybe we can be
persuaded to leave you guys
something
.”

“Girls versus guys?” Lexa asked. “Whichever team does
better during today's lesson wins first shot at the freezer.”

The girls looked at each other, but I stared at Whisper's mane. I
reached for my throat and played with my necklace. The beryl birthstone necklace my
parents had gotten me for my birthday was one of my fave pieces of jewelry. I
always rubbed the pool-blue necklace when I was anxious. We were
doing cross-country. There was no way I'd be better than Cole or Drew.

“Um, the numbers are unfair,” I interjected. “There are
three of us and two of them.” I grasped my necklace, hoping my observation would
get me out of the competition. “I'm totally willing to play but not be
judged. Then it's two on two.”

“No way,” Clare said, shaking her head. “Please.”
She looked at Cole and Drew. “You guys threatened by another rider on our
team?”

Drew's eyes met mine. There was a flicker of
something
.

He smiled at us. “I'm totally cool with three against two. But
if Lauren doesn't think it's fair and wants to sit out, she
should.”

Cole, catching on, nodded. “I agree. Totally up to you, Laur.
We'll either take you
all
down or you can watch Drew and
me decimate your friends.”

I couldn't help laughing when he said “decimate.” Cole
was the nicest, sweetest guy and the least likely among all of us to
“decimate” anyone.

I let go of my necklace, glancing at Drew. “Well, when Cole puts it
that
way . . . I can't let my team be destroyed
without me. I'm in.”

Drew smiled, and Lexa and Clare whispered to each
other. I'd made the right decision. I was done backing down.

“Who's judging?” I asked.

That made us pause. Boots crunched in the gravel, and the five of us
looked up at our answer.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, CLASS,” MR. CONNER
said.

The tall, dark-haired instructor was dressed in a crisp white polo and black breeches. He carried his usual clipboard, and a pen peeked out of his shirt pocket.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Conner,” we replied.

“I asked you all to meet me here so we could head out to the cross-country course together. It's an area I want to spend time on with each of you today. We will not be doing any of the more advanced courses.”

Whew.

“The goal will be to tackle the obstacles in front of you with well-timed approaches, clean landings, and within the time I designate for you to finish the course.”

I kept my eyes on Mr. Conner, trying to ignore my pounding heart. I wished I could make Pepto-Bismol appear in front of me. The idea of cross-country was making me a little nauseous. I reached down, rubbing a hand on Whisper's shoulder. The mare didn't seem nervous at all, thankfully. Instead, she seemed happy to be outside—her eyes were wide, she flicked her ears at the tweets of the birds, and she felt relaxed beneath me.

Lexa raised her hand, a mischievous smile on her face. “Mr. Conner? We were talking before you came, and we wondered if you'd help us with something. It would up our riding game.”

Mr. Conner squinted, looking curious. “How can I help?”

“Would you play ‘judge' during our lesson?” Lexa asked. Honor swiveled her ears at the sound of her owner's voice. “Pretend we're two teams—boys versus girls. At the end of the lesson, whatever team you think did the best wins.”

Mr. Conner smiled. “Usually I'd say no, because I want you to focus on working together and as a team. Plus, this
is
practice, not a competition. That said, I like that you're in the competitive mood.” He nodded. “Do your best, ladies and gentlemen. I'll reveal my decision at the end of class.”

“Thanks, Mr. Conner!” Cole said. The rest of us chimed
in our thanks. My earlier nerves melted a little when I looked at my teammates. I was happy to play along with everyone else, and I didn't want to leave Whisper out of anything.

“Let's head out to the main field to warm up, and then we'll discuss the jumps,” Mr. Conner said.

We walked our horses down the side drive and to the large field. Our group gathered on one of the many hills of campus. I had the perfect view of campus from atop Whisper's back. I tried to pay attention to Mr. Conner, but my eyes darted to different places on campus.

The tennis court.

The outdoor pool.

The dorms—from Winchester to Orchard to Blackwell.

The tops of school buildings.

And the long, winding driveway, lined with dark fences and dotted with street lanterns, that led to the tree-lined entrance and exit of campus. Sometimes it was overwhelming that
I
was here.

“Lauren?”

I looked up, blinking at Mr. Conner.

“I'm sorry.”

“Please pay attention,” he said.

I nodded. I was glad Riley wasn't here to have witnessed that.

“Take about fifteen minutes to warm up,” Mr. Conner said. “You don't need me to tell you how to warm up. Go ahead and get started—feel free to spread out, but stay within eyesight.”

I squeezed my boots against Whisper's sides, and we staked out a section of the plain. Drew, Cole, Lexa, and Clare did the same. I put Whisper through a normal warm-up, enjoying the change of scenery. Whisper listened to every cue, and I was almost sorry when Mr. Conner raised his hand, signaling that time was up.

He explained the course—ten obstacles that were clearly marked with the usual red-and-white flags.

I looked over at Lexa on my right.
Okay?
she mouthed.

I nodded. I was.

Mostly.

“We're going to move to the middle of the course so you can watch each of your teammates,” Mr. Conner said. “I'd like Clare to go first, then Drew, Lauren, Lexa, and Cole.”

Clare smiled and settled into her saddle.

“Clare, head toward the first jump and begin when we've gathered out of the way. The rest of you, please follow me.”

Fuego swished his cinnamon-colored tail as he and
Clare separated from our group. We headed in the opposite direction, and Mr. Conner stopped us in the center of the short course. From here, we could see almost every jump.

Clare circled Fuego in a large circle at a trot, then a canter. When they reached a solid canter, Clare pointed her gelding in a straight line at the first obstacle—a row of brush. The horse and rider, looking small from here, cleared the brush and cantered toward the second jump. It was another row of brush, but wider than the first.

Fuego took the jump and the pair moved closer, becoming easier to see by the second as they approached our waiting group. Clare was a focused rider. She didn't let anything get her attention away from her horse or their ride. Fuego was just as in tune with her—they tackled one jump after the other. Along with everyone else, I clapped when Clare finished and eased Fuego to a halt next to Polo.

“That was a great ride, Clare,” Mr. Conner said. “There was a visible unity between horse and rider. Fuego took this course so well because of his deep trust in you. Continue working as a pair as you've been. I'm impressed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Clare said. Her smile was contagious.

Drew and Polo went next. I found myself gripping the reins, holding my breath, and standing in my stirrups
during his ride. It was almost as if I was on course—I wanted him to do well. He guided his lanky blood bay over the course and made it look
so
easy. I tried not to clap like an overly caffeinated fan girl when he and Polo finished.

Drew stopped Polo, then pushed up his white helmet and patted the horse's shoulder. He flicked his eyes to me and I grinned, dropping the reins and giving him a thumbs-up. Drew's light skin was flushed from the exercise. He smiled back at me in a way that wasn't just
merci, Lauren!
but reached his eyes, too.

“Drew, that was a strong ride,” Mr. Conner said. He glanced up from his clipboard. “You're a consistent rider. I can't stress enough how important that is both for you, as an individual rider, and for your team. When I prepare to watch you ride, I know what kind of ride to expect.” Drew smiled. “You also continue to grow, and there are subtle, but notable, degrees of improvement in almost every cross-country ride of yours that I witness.”

Drew tipped his head, then looked up. “Thank you, Mr. Conner. I really appreciate your comments, and I'll keep working hard.”

Mr. Conner gave Drew a quick smile before turning to me. “Lauren, are you ready?”

I nodded. I was too afraid to speak in case my voice came out squeaky. Mr. Conner's brown eyes seemed to be trying to send a silent message of reassurance. Like he knew Whisper and I could do this. We had, too, in the time I'd been at Canterwood. But only a couple of jumps and not a full course.

Stop thinking! Go!

I tapped my boot heels against Whisper's sides, and raising her head high, she moved into a trot. If I wasn't ready, she definitely was. Her hoofbeats, muffled by the grass, were rhythmic and even.

We trotted away from our group, and I fought to find the place in my brain where Competition Lauren still existed. Competition Lauren could block out anything—from trash talkers on opposite teams to nerves over people having higher scores—and I needed to tap into her now.

I took a quick breath, settled my tailbone into the saddle, and asked Whisper for a canter. The ground was firm, but there were soft patches from the overnight rain. I crossed my fingers that no one before me had hit the same areas, churning up the grass and making a muddy mess.

Whisper switched gaits and had an ear back to me and an ear pointed forward. I took her through two large
circles to warm up before pulling on the right rein and aligning her with the first jump. Brush was one of my favorites. When I was little, I had pretended that I was a steeplechaser and had raced ponies over any brush fences I could find. I'd even convinced Mom to sew me a pair of blue-and-white jockey silks.

The jump rushed at us, and I rose into the two-point position. Unlike me, Whisper hadn't been daydreaming. She propelled herself into the air at the right moment, and we easily cleared the brush.