Famous (6 page)

“Click on the app just to see,” I said. “I'm so curious.”

Khloe clicked on the link for “Apply Now” and small sounds escaped both of our mouths. There were over fifteen pages of questions
solely
about riding.

The stable required a minimum of five years' experience to even apply.

“You take over,” Khloe said, moving her hand off the mouse pad and drawing her knees to her chest. “This is the craziest thing I've ever seen.”

I realized my hands were clenched together, and they were sweaty when I pulled them apart and put my middle finger on the track pad.

I went back a page and scrolled up to the top. I clicked on “Star Students.”

Bingo.

“Look,” I said. “Here's all we need to know.”

There was a photo of a beaming Carina next to a gorgeous bay with a championship ribbon pinned to his bridle.
CARINA JOHANSSON/WYNTER
was typed under the picture.

There was an article next to Carina's photo, written in press-release style.

I cleared my throat. “ ‘Johansson Farms is proud to be the home of Carina Johansson. At four, Carina began competing in local shows. Soon she progressed to regional, national, and eventually, international competitions. Currently, Carina is the title holder of the Juniors' All-Around Qualifier on her gelding, Wynter. See below for her full list of titles and past competitions. Carina is trained by Aksel Brunn, who is known for sending three past students to the Olympics. For press inquiries, please contact Carina's publicist at the information below.' ”

I skipped over the publicist's information and scrolled to Carina's list of accolades. They blurred together.

First place, Grand Prix

First place, President's Cup

Sixth place, Swedish International Grand Prix

Second place at Gothenburg Horse Show (International Jumping)

The list went on and on.

Khloe let out a low whistle. “I am impressed. Not shocked after what I saw, but
jeez
. The girl is good.”

Slowly I closed the laptop lid. All of Carina's titles ran through my head.

“Do you think she'll tell us on her own?” I asked.

Khloe leaned back against her pillow. “Maybe. But it's possible she's more like you than you realize.”

“What do you mean?”

“What if Carina came here to get away from being that girl? What if she doesn't want anyone to know about her past and she wants to be judged on her riding at Canterwood?”

“I didn't even think about that,” I said, stretching my legs out in front of me. “I was ready to go ask her about her background, but we just met her. If Carina wants us to know, she'll tell us.”

“I think that's the best way to approach the sitch,” KK said. “But it's good to know what kind of experience level you're dealing with too. You've been warned, so to speak, so you've got to be on top of your game.”

“Absolutely. There's no excuse to be caught off guard.”

BY MONDAY, I WAS READY
to shake Clare until her curls came undone. Worst part? I couldn't talk to Khloe about it anymore. That's
all
I'd done over the weekend, and I didn't want to put Khloe in an awkward position between Clare and me for another day. All weekend, Clare had insisted that “something” was up with Brielle. I mean, I hadn't spent every second around Bri recently because things were C-R-A-Z-Y, but when I
had
been with her, I'd noticed nothing different. I'd known B longer than Clare, so if something was up, I'd know.

I plunked myself down on one of the cold stone benches in the courtyard. I pulled my down-filled scarf higher up around the back of my neck and blew out a breath. The Brielle thing bugged me. No matter how hard Clare had
insisted there was something off with Bri, she hadn't been able to give me
any
concrete examples of weird behavior.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling to Clare on BBM and looking at the BBM convo I'd saved that had started the ongoing Brielle discussion. Clare and I had BBMed after we'd gone riding.

Clare:

I know this is awkward 2 bring up over BBM, but Brielle's here & this is ABT her.

Lauren:

What's going on?

Clare:

I hate 2 even say anything. I have 2 tho. Something's up w B. Did she say anything 2 u? Or did u notice anything weird?

Lauren:

No, she didn't say anything 2 me & I didn't get any vibes from her. Why do u think something is wrong?

Clare:

I'm not really sure. She hasn't actually DONE anything except for hanging up the phone rlly fast 2x when I came into the room, but I feel like she's hiding something.

Lauren:

I haven't felt that at all, C. Hmmm. I'll pay attn next time we hang out and c if I notice anything.

Clare:

Def do. I wish I knew what was up so I could tell u.

Lauren:

It's prob something so small—B can take stuff and blow it out of proportion sometimes. I'm not worried.

Clare:

Okay. Just wanted 2 let u know.

That was only the beginning. Nothing had satisfied Clare. She gave up talking to me about Brielle and had started talking to Khloe. Then Khloe had talked to me. I'd tried to convince them both that they were wrong.

I'd watched Bri every time I got a chance today and hadn't seen one thing that made me pause. But my intuition wasn't enough to quiet my friends. I'd finally told Khloe that I was going to flat-out ask Bri if everything was okay. Then this discussion would be over once and for all. I planned to talk to Bri today after our lesson.

I quickly tacked up and headed for the outdoor arena. The jump course, just like in Mr. Conner's diagram, was waiting. I was the last of my teammates to arrive. I trotted Whisper into the arena and moved her next to Carina. Carina smiled at me from Rocco's back as we warmed up the horses. The gray gelding moved well under her. I'd started watching Carina more—there was a lot I could learn from her.

Carina was friendly, too. We'd ended up sharing a couple of classes and running into each other in the hallways. She'd always had a smile on her face.

Someone who hadn't smiled when I'd bumped into him in the hallway today was Taylor. I'd said “Hey,” but he stomped off without a word. I didn't have the time or energy to find out what his problem was. Maybe he was mad at me by extension because Bri was here.

A cold wind blew across the arena, and I shivered despite my layers. I ran a gloved hand over Whisper's neck, glad that she didn't seem cold. Her winter coat had grown in, and the warm-up was keeping her comfortable in the November air.

Mr. Conner had e-mailed us a heads-up this morning. He'd sent us a note that had read:

Good morning, all,

Please dress warmly for your lesson today. We'll be working in the large outdoor arena. Attached is a diagram of the jump course we'll be working on. Please look over the obstacles and familiarize yourself with the course before class.

See you this afternoon.

—Mr. Conner

Khloe and I had spread our clothes across our beds, not wanting to freeze for forty-five minutes.

I wore a thin tank top, long-sleeve thermal tee, wool sweater, and my stable coat. Under my breeches I'd pulled on a pair of tights, and I had two pairs of thick socks on under my boots. It was a balancing act to dress in enough clothing to be warm, but not too much to be too bulky.

Wisp and I made a few more circuits around the large arena, moving from a trot to a canter, then back to a trot. A hunter-green beanie and matching coat headed for the arena. Silver crutches glinted in the sunlight.

Mr. Conner made his way to the center of the arena, a clipboard on a string around his neck. Lexa, Cole, Clare, Brielle, Drew, Carina, and I slowed our horses to a walk and lined up in front of our instructor.

Mr. Conner's black hair was hidden beneath his hat, and he wore gloves and a scarf. He removed the clipboard from around his neck and scanned it before looking up at us.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

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

Mr. Conner gave us a brief smile. “I hope you all heeded my warning and dressed for the weather.”

Each of us nodded. I glanced down the line and saw
all of my teammates were bundled up. A head turned and Drew, sandwiched between Lex and Clare, shot me a smile.
Hi
, he mouthed.

Hey
, I mouthed back.

Mr. Conner cleared his throat, and I whipped my head forward. My instructor's eyes were on me. I blushed and sank into my saddle. Mr. Conner stared at me for what felt like hours.

“Today,” he said, finally looking away, “we'll be working on show jumping. Mike and Doug have assembled a ten-obstacle course that you'll each complete. I want to focus on your form and the amount of attention paid to you by your mount. In a moment, you'll all dismount and walk the course. If you studied the diagram that I e-mailed you, then none of these obstacles should be a surprise. After you've walked the course, you'll take turns completing the course.”

The tiniest shiver ran up and down my arms. It wasn't from the cold. It was because of what we were about to do. I could jump a thousand fences, but I didn't think my fear of jumping would ever go away one hundred percent. The accident that had nearly ended my riding career was an invisible scar on my body.

“In addition to taking note of how you perform over
each obstacle, I'm also going to be timing your round,” Mr. Conner said. “I want to add the pressure of getting a good time to make this exercise remind you what it's like to compete in show jumping. This will help you prepare for the show before break.”

I inhaled deeply through my nose, letting the breath out slowly through my mouth. Racing the clock was what had gotten me in trouble when my accident had happened.

But you know better now,
I told myself.
You've jumped a lot at Canterwood since Red Oak. You're not going to risk Whisper's safety just to beat a clock.

“Please dismount,” Mr. Conner said. “I don't want your horses to familiarize themselves with the course, so one at a time, hand your horse to a fellow teammate and go walk the course. Once you're finished, the rider holding your horse will go next.”

I kicked my feet out of the stirrups, swung my right leg over the saddle and Whisper's rump, and hopped lightly to the ground. I eased the reins over her head and held them, waiting for further instruction.

“Cole,” Mr. Conner said. “You're up first. Brielle, please hold Valentino.”

Cole handed his black gelding to Bri, and the stark
difference between the horses caught my eye. Albino Zane looked even whiter next to black Valentino.

Cole walked to the start of the course, and his lips moved as he silently counted strides between jumps. The course was straightforward—there was only one turn—and thankfully, no switchbacks or change in order that needed to be memorized.

Once Cole finished, he took Valentino and Zane from Brielle. She walked the course as Cole had done, and Mr. Conner kept assigning pairs until each of us had been over the course.

We remounted our horses, and Cole was up first. The six of us who weren't riding exited the arena and lined up just outside the entrance. Mr. Conner moved to the fence so he wasn't in Cole's way. I watched as Mr. Conner produced a black stopwatch and silver whistle from his pocket and readied his clipboard.

Cole and Valentino waited at the arena's entrance for Mr. Conner's signal to begin.

“Cole,” Mr. Conner called. “When I blow this whistle, you may start.”