Chapter Ten

 

Monday, September 16^th, 7:20 a.m.

 

I sat in the Commons with my mocha, stirring it with the straw while I waited for Vicky. Talk about déjà vu—I’d definitely been here before. Riding lessons? Come on. Get serious. I had plenty to do. Mom and Dad had told me at dinner last night that they’d agreed to pay me for A’s and B’s on my semester grades. Whoopee! But, how was I supposed to study when I had cross-country practice twice a week, a meet every Thursday for the next two months, Twaziem to look after and now riding lessons on Wednesdays and Saturdays?

“Okay, so what’s the emergency?” Vicky plopped down in the seat across from me and actually grinned before she saw the peppermint latte I’d brought her. “Wow, you’re the best. And I love your parents. They can adopt me anytime.”

“Mom signed me up for riding lessons.” I groaned. “Like I’m a little kid. She says I need to brush up my skills so I can train Twaz next spring, as if I’ll actually keep him. This was a rescue. I’ll find him a great home, but I don’t want a horse.”

Vicky buried her head in her hands. “Here we go again with all your dramas. Did you ever think the world doesn’t turn around you, Robin?”

“No.” I sucked up some mocha. “I’m blonde and beautiful, so of course it does. Do you ever get tired of always being right, Vick?”

“No.” She took the cap off her cup and sipped. She kept smiling. “In this down economy, I wouldn’t bet on finding Twaziem a home, and you know your dad will want enough money to pay him back for the rehabilitation. That will be major bucks between the feed, the vet, the training, and your lessons, which you wouldn’t have to take if you didn’t have him or me.”

“You?” I gaped at her. “What do my lessons have to do with you?”

“Your mom called my mom and said that as long as she had to take you to Shamrock for classes, she might as well drop me to do my internship on Wednesdays and Saturdays. After all, both moms want the same thing—for us to pass our sophomore year with flying colors. And if you hang out with me academically, I might be able to get you on the Honor Roll by Christmas.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way!” Vicky drank more coffee. “I thought the Honor Roll thing was a bit over the top, but my mom totally went for it.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe it. My mom is such a bitch. Who knew?”

“Well, you had to suspect it. No offense. I mean, think about Felicia. She had to get it somewhere.”

We both cracked up. The warning bell rang and we got up, grabbing our backpacks to head for English class. Winding our way through the cafeteria, I asked, “So, is all right in your world now?”

“Well, my internship is fine for the moment. I just have to figure out cheer practice and the football games on Fridays,” Vicky said, finishing her latte. “So far, Ms. Walker is okay with me leaving early to pick up the kids at their school and Chrissy from day care. But, when the squad starts getting ready for regionals, all bets are off.”

“We have two months before that happens,” I said, draining my mocha. “We’ll figure out something. Hey, maybe your mom will hire a nanny.”

“Yes and Santa will bring me Clinton Anderson for Christmas. I’d die to train with him and go to his Academy.”

“You’d have to move to Texas, and Jack would totally freak.”

“It’s Clinton Anderson,” Vicky said, dropping her cup in the garbage. “Jack would go with me to learn everything the guy knows about horses.”

“Sure, but you have to be eighteen,” I said, tossing my cup, “and that’s two years away.”

“Okay, well maybe I’ll get the ‘Colt Starting Videos’ this year. We can use them on Twaziem.”

I laughed. “Oh, he’ll love that.”

She always made me feel better, and I hoped I’d done the same for her. We made it to English class and our seats before the last bell rang. That was good since Mrs. Weaver was a notorious hard grader and had a zero tolerance for life. Gray-haired, gray eyes, she was older than dirt and looked like a stumpy rock in her gray suit.

Silence reigned in the room as soon as the bell pealed. She stood at her desk and waited until everyone looked at her. “Some of you slackers haven’t turned in your letters of intent for your Sophomore Project and you should be starting your hours with your mentor this week. When I call your name, tell me who your mentor is or where you’re planning to go.”

I cringed and ducked down in my seat. It didn’t do much good.

She whipped through the first six letters of the alphabet and got to me in what felt like a heartbeat. “Roberta Gibson.”

“I’m here,” I said.

“And where are you going? Who will be your mentor?”

I nearly said I had absolutely no idea, that I could skate through the class and end up with a C- or D+ and still stay on the cross-country team, but my best friend from hell spoke up. “She’s doing it with Dr. Larry Tomlinson at Equine Nation Vet Clinic in Snohomish.”

“Interesting,” Mrs. Weaver said. “I’ll have your letter by end of school today, Roberta, or you’ll be here until I do.”

“But I have cross-country practice tonight and Coach Norris will lose it if I don’t show up,” I said.

“It won’t be the first time you hear from him if I don’t have your letter today. If I were you, I’d spend the period writing the letter. Victoria will be happy to help since she already has her internship lined up.”

I shot a glare across the room at Vicky, then looked down at my notebook. “Yes, ma’am.”

A few minutes later, we were excused to visit the computer lab so I could do my letter. Halfway there, Vicky pushed me into the restroom. “Get out your cell and call Dr. Larry.”

“What? If I’m caught, I’ll get detention.”

“And when Weaver checks up with him, you’ll be off cross-country for the season and in I.S.S. until Christmas. I’ll stand guard. You call.”

“Then why did you say I was doing it with him?”

“Hello, weren’t you listening Saturday night? He believes you walk on water. You need to use that. Why do you think Rocky agreed to let me do my internship at her barn? She likes me and says I’m a good rider and trainer.”

“Plus you can clean fourteen stalls faster than anyone else on the planet.” I checked the restroom. It was empty so I pulled out my phone and called Equine Nation. Of course, it wasn’t open yet, but I left Dr. Larry a message about doing the internship with him. I’d check back with him during lunch when students were allowed to use their cell phones.

In the lab, Vicky opened her binder. It was totally organized by class. She took out the rubric for the assignment and a copy of her letter. “Okay, here’s my flash drive. We’ll adjust the wording so it works for you helping the veterinarian on his large animal calls.”

When I rolled my eyes, she elbowed me. “Ouch. That hurt,” I complained. “What’s your problem?”

“Will you get serious? You don’t want to spend every day in the clinic shoveling puppy or kitty poop. You want to go places with Dr. Larry and learn what he does in the field.”

“When you put it that way, it makes a lot more sense.” I logged on to the computer and clicked on the word processing program. Actually, I was lucky to have her on my side even if I hassled her about it.

* * * *

Monday, September 16^th, 2:20 p.m.

 

I finished my letter and turned it into Mrs. Weaver at the end of the school day. She skimmed through it. “All right. I’ll give this back to you tomorrow with my corrections, and you can do a final draft.”

“Come again?” I stared at her. “I thought this was all you wanted.”

“Did you even read the project requirements?” Mrs. Weaver put my paper on her desk. She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I’m still waiting for your brainstorm.”

“My what?”

“Your outline for the letter.”

“Who outlines a letter? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She heaved a sigh like I was the dumbest student she’d seen in a long time. “You typed this, so I know you kept a copy on your flash drive. You can amplify the second and third paragraphs. Ask your older brother to help you outline the letter.”

“No way. If I ask Jack for help, he’ll come up with some rotten chore I have to do in exchange. I might have to muck out his room. I already have to feed the horses and pigs to share the chore money. It sucked last night.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.” Mrs. Weaver looked at the clock. “You’d better go if you don’t want to be late for track practice.”

“Cross-country,” I corrected. “Track’s in the spring.”

I headed for the door, then stopped when I heard a weird sound. I glanced back over my shoulder. Was she laughing? Apparently so. Who knew that was even possible? Okay, if I didn’t make it to State this year, I could always try to be a comedian.

I was one of the last girls to reach the locker room, but it didn’t take long to change to my shorts and T-shirt. I tied my sweatshirt around my waist and jogged out to the track. I started stretching. No cramps for me. I glanced at Gwen and Porter, two of the other girls on the team. “Has he said where we’re running yet?”

Gwen shook her head and kept doing side bends. “Something about a park.”

“Downtown,” Porter said.

I grimaced. Running through Marysville meant lots of sidewalks and maybe a bit in the local park, but that didn’t get me ready for the track meet outside of Arlington. Coach Norris waved to us and we headed toward him, along with everyone else.

“Okay, here’s the deal.” He laid out the route. It was still pretty easy, just four miles around town and only a couple big hills. “Any comments?”

Porter tapped her foot. “Okay if we do it twice or three times?”

“No. You do it once, Porter.” Coach Norris ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. He was in good shape for a guy older than my dad. “The rest of you get going. Gwen, Robin, and Porter, stay here. I want to talk to you.”

Steve gave us a sympathetic look, then jogged off with a couple of the guys.

Coach waited until everyone was gone. He frowned at us, his tone stern. “I know what you three are thinking. Don’t go there. Until I get permission from the principal and school board to increase the duration, the most we do during practice is four miles. Got it?”

Gwen widened big blue eyes and put on her super-innocent look. “But, it is okay if we keep practicing on our own time, isn’t it?”

“You’d better if you want to improve your Personal Records at this meet.” He winked. “Now, get out of here and try not to get lost. I expect you back in an hour and a half.”

“Yes, Coach.” I led off and the other two girls followed me. I saw the guys up ahead of us, but I didn’t care. We’d gotten a pretty strong hint that if we veered from the route, Coach Norris wouldn’t say anything as long as we kept to the same timeframes as the rest of the team. I glanced at Gwen when she caught up with me. “Up Golf Course Hill and then down 88^th street or the other way around?”

She laughed. “Golf Course.”