Wild Horse

“Wentworth Manor is one of the most famous girls’ schools in the country, dear. We’re very lucky to have gotten an interview for you,” Mrs. Atwood said.

“Where is it?” Lisa asked.

“It’s in Richfield, about two hours from Willow Creek.”

“But I don’t get it,” Lisa said, taken aback. “Are we moving?”

Mrs. Atwood laughed. “Oh, no, dear. Your father and I are very happy in Willow Creek.”

“Then why am I having an interview at a school if there’s no chance I would ever go to it?” Lisa asked. Her mother had had some wild ideas in the past, but this one was the wildest yet.

“It’s a boarding school,” Mrs. Atwood explained patiently. “The girls live at the school.”

Lisa stared at her mother in alarm. “When did you decide you wanted me to go to boarding school?” she asked, shocked.

“It’s only an interview, honey. If you don’t like it—”

“But Mom,” Lisa interrupted, “why would you want me to leave home?”

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“B
UT
, S
TEVIE
,
THERE
just has to be something good about going back to school!” Lisa Atwood cried. When it came to school, Lisa and Stevie Lake were opposites. Stevie utterly detested it and always got into trouble. Lisa enjoyed it and brought home straight As.

“Nope.” Stevie shook her head defiantly. “There’s not. I’ve thought and thought, and there’s not one single reason why I, Stephanie Lake, should be glad that the summer’s over.”

The two girls were sitting on hay bales at Pine Hollow Stables with their other best friend, Carole Hanson. Pine Hollow was the stable where they all took riding
lessons and where Stevie and Carole boarded their horses. Carole was in the middle about school. She didn’t hate it or love it; she got through and did fine. Once in a while she even became interested enough in something she was learning to forget about horses—for about five seconds.

“Maybe you just need time to readjust—you know, have a few days to let it sink in, the way Lisa and I have,” Carole suggested. She tried not to sound as doubtful as she felt. Carole and Lisa went to the local public junior high school. They had been back a week already, but Stevie went to Fenton Hall, a private school, which had started only the day before.

“Yeah, right. I’ll be too excited for words in another week or two,” Stevie muttered sarcastically.

“Aren’t there any teachers you like?” Lisa asked. “Or at least any teachers you don’t detest?” she corrected herself. To ask if Stevie
liked
a teacher was like asking someone if she
liked
having to eat spinach and liver every day for nine months out of the year.

Stevie sighed, plucking wisps of hay out of the bale. “It’s easy for you to look on the bright side, Lisa. You enjoy school. You probably even
love
school. I would, too, if I were you. You ace every subject. You’re a teacher’s dream.”

Lisa laughed at Stevie’s hopeless expression. She wasn’t so sure she
loved
school, but it was easy to at least like something she was so good at. She was friendly with her teachers and looked forward to the school day. And since she was a real perfectionist, she also liked seeing her report card come in with all As.

“I’m not even happy to see the other kids,” Stevie went on grumpily. “I’m sick of them. I’ve known all of them my whole life. Plus the fact that everywhere I went today, I saw you-know-who.”

Carole and Lisa nodded, smiling knowingly. Stevie could only be referring to one person, and that was Pine Hollow’s biggest snob, Veronica diAngelo. All the girls knew Veronica from riding with her, but Stevie had to put up with seeing her at Fenton Hall, too. Veronica was vain and stuck-up. She was also rude—rude to everyone and especially rude to The Saddle Club, the group that Stevie, Lisa, and Carole had started. Fortunately, Veronica could never be a member of The Saddle Club.

There were two requirements for joining the club, and Veronica failed on both accounts: She wasn’t horse-crazy, and she certainly wasn’t willing to help people out when they needed it. Sure, she rode a lot, but as The Saddle Club knew, riding by itself didn’t qualify a person as horse-crazy. To be horse-crazy, a person had to love
everything about horses: riding, training, grooming, stable work—everything. The main reason Veronica rode was that it was a glamorous sport. It was something she could brag about to her friends and her parents could brag about to their friends.

“So, there aren’t even any cute boys at school?” Carole asked. Even though Stevie had a boyfriend, Carole knew she wasn’t above enjoying having cute boys in her classes.

“The only thing I can say about the boys is that they make Chad, Michael, and Alex look like princes,” Stevie said, referring to her three brothers, whom she was constantly feuding with. Then Stevie perked up. “But if there
were
any cute boys, I guess there would be one good thing about being back at school. I just remembered: There’s going to be a back-to-school dance in a couple of weeks. They announced it in Assembly this morning.”

“I told you so,” Lisa said. “Now that sounds really fun.”

“It will be,” Stevie predicted. “As long as the dance committee does its job and makes it fun. I wish you guys and Phil could come. Why do dances have to be school only?” Phil Marsten was Stevie’s boyfriend. He rode, too, and lived in a neighboring town. “We could have so much fun. The three of us could all get ready together
on the night of the dance. Do our hair, choose our outfits—”

“Oh my gosh!” Lisa exclaimed, springing up. “I forgot! I have a hair appointment this afternoon. I was supposed to call my mother the minute we were done riding so she could pick me up!”

Just then there was a loud honk in the driveway. A woman’s voice called, “Lisa! Honey?”

“Sounds like your mom knew where to find you,” Carole said with a laugh, recognizing Mrs. Atwood’s voice.

“Phew! So, I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” Lisa said.

“Same time, same place,” Stevie said. It was practically an unwritten rule that The Saddle Club always hung out at Pine Hollow after school.

“Where are you getting your hair cut?” Carole asked as Lisa gathered up her things.

Lisa paused. “Umm … Cosmopolitan Cuts,” she mumbled.

“Cosmo Cuts?” Stevie repeated. “Isn’t that the new salon on Pelham Street that the famous stylist owns?” she demanded.

Lisa nodded sheepishly.

“Wow! My mom went there last month. She said it was supernice and superexpensive,” said Stevie. “They give you the royal treatment there. I think you get a free makeover the first time you go.”

“I just remembered why I’ve heard of it. Veronica goes there, doesn’t she?” Carole said. “I think I heard her bragging about it.”

Stevie nodded. “Yup. And she
only
goes to Charles, the owner. She won’t have her hair cut by any of his assistants. Are you going to have Charles, Lisa?”

“I don’t know,” Lisa said shortly. “My mother made the appointment.”

“Wow, pretty fancy-schmancy, Lisa,” Stevie teased.

All at once Carole noticed how uncomfortable Lisa looked. She shot Stevie a meaningful look. “Have fun, okay, Lisa?” she said.

“I will,” Lisa promised, heading down the aisle to the door.

“Why the look? Did I say something wrong?” Stevie asked when Lisa was safely out of earshot.

“No, not really,” Carole replied. “But we both know what Mrs. Atwood is like. I think Lisa gets embarrassed sometimes about all the things her mother makes her do.”

Stevie nodded. She knew exactly what Carole meant. Even though the Atwoods didn’t have a lot of money, Mrs. Atwood was very socially conscious. She always tried to make Lisa do the “right” things. In the past she’d made Lisa take all kinds of lessons, such as tennis
and ballet. She also liked her daughter to wear coordinated outfits like a model in a catalog. And no matter how many times Lisa tried to tell her mother how awful Veronica diAngelo was, Mrs. Atwood didn’t seem to hear. She admired the diAngelos for being so rich and well connected in Willow Creek, the town where they lived in Virginia.

It was just like Mrs. Atwood to take Lisa to the expensive new hair salon. If Stevie had told
her
mother that she wanted to go to Cosmo Cuts, Mrs. Lake would have burst out laughing.