I CHECKED OUR PURPLE BEDSIDE CLOCK COVERED in glittery stars. “We better get ready, or we’re going to be late.”
Brit looked at the clock, jumping off her bed. We pulled riding clothes out of our closet. I slid into my coziest pair of avocado green breeches with comfy suede knees with extra padding. A purple V-neck sweater complemented the green and, stepping back and forth out of each other’s way, Brit and I changed and freshened up from a day of classes.
Even though Mr. Conner frowned on us wearing perfume or body spray in class, I spritzed a tiny bit of Burberry Brit perfume (hello, major sale online!) on my wrists. Oddly enough, Charm loved the scent. Maybe it reminded him of me when I was in class all day. When I’d been gone over break, I’d sprayed a tiny bit on his blanket to hopefully comfort him and remind him that I’d be back soon.
I brushed my hair into low ponytail and applied a coat of clear lip gloss.
Brit did her own hair in a beautiful French braid and looked sleek in black breeches, tall boots, and a crew-neck red shirt.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Def,” I said.
But I wasn’t. I mean, I was dressed and ready to leave, but not so much for the part about spending a lesson with Callie.
Both of us rushed out the door, hurrying for the stable. Since today was the first lesson with Callie, Mr. Conner was easing her into it by starting with only an afternoon lesson. After that, we’d add in morning lessons, too. It would be different to have a roommate who was on the same schedule—one who’d be getting up early with me to ride. That was going to be a huge change in my day-to-day routine.
“Do you think things will be superawkward?” I asked Brit.
“Because of Callie?” she asked.
“Yeah. We haven’t ridden together in forever and now she’s on the YENT.”
We broke into a faster walk, weaving around the other students who were also rushing to sports or extracurricular activities.
“Callie seems like a very professional rider,” Brit said, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “I don’t think she’s going to be weird or mean to you during lessons.”
“I don’t think so either,” I said. “And Mr. Conner would never allow it. I’m just worried that things will be off and neither of us will be able to concentrate.”
Brit and I reached the stable and gathered our horses’ tack. “If you stay cool, I’m sure Callie will too,” Brit said. “Just act like it’s any other lesson and it’ll be fine.”
“Thanks, B,” I said. “See you at the warm up.”
We split up and I went straight for the other being who could comfort me the most—Charm.
I walked down the aisle, not seeing Callie, and sighed with relief when I reached Charm’s stall.
I slid open the lock, slipping inside. He seemed to sense immediately that I needed him. He walked over from where he’d been standing in the corner and stopped in front of me so I could put my arms around his neck.
“Hi, guy,” I said. “I’m sooo nervous about today.”
Then I thought about Charm.
“But you’re going to be happy. Guess why?”
I let go of Charm and looked in his eyes. He gazed back, seeming to want to know the answer.
“Jack and Callie made the YENT,” I told him. “That means you’ll get to see Jack every day again. I know you missed him.”
Charm, seeming to recognize his old best friend’s name, bobbed his head. I rubbed his blaze and stood with him for a few minutes, feeling safe and enjoying the escape from the noise around us.
“Let’s get you tacked up,” I said at last.
I took Charm by the halter, leading him out of his sawdust-filled stall and into the aisle. There was a free pair of crossties in front of his stall and I clipped them to the side rings of his halter.
“I think you need a supergrooming,” I told him.
I took my time brushing his already clean coat, combing his tangle free mane and tail and picking his hooves. It was a stalling technique and I was dangerously close to running late, but I almost didn’t care. Part of me was less afraid to face Mr. Conner than to ride in the arena with Callie for the first time. I tacked up Charm, then kept him standing in the aisle while I pretended to adjust the girth.
“Siiilver, let’s go,” Heather said as she walked past me and headed for the arena. “We’re riding in the outdoor arena. So stop stalling and move before we’re late.”
I knew she was right. I had to just go and face Callie.
“Coming,” I said.
Charm and I lagged behind Heather and Aristocrat as we went down the aisle and toward the outdoor arena.
When I reached the arena, Brit and Heather were warming up their horses. Brit halted Apollo, then worked on backing him in a straight line. Apollo, who always had beautiful lines, tucked his shin and moved straight back, not even hesitating. He was a well-trained horse and I loved watching him move. I wished, more and more, that Brit owned him. Instead, she had been leasing him for the past six months from a girl who was away at college. The lease was for a year and Brit could lose Apollo if the girl decided to take him back. They were a perfect pair—Brit deserved to have Apollo as her own. I didn’t even want to think about Brit losing him …
Across the arena, Heather was taking Aristocrat through spirals that got tighter and tighter. The chestnut, a few shades darker than Aristocrat, curved his body without the slightest sign of strain. Heather had been working hard to keep him supple by doing lots of lunge work—something I wanted to do more of with Charm.
I eased Charm into a free walk and let him walk along the rail. He was in a great mood today—he seemed to know I needed extra support from him.
Brit turned Apollo around, heading in my direction.
“How’re you doing?” she asked.
I settled deep in Charm’s saddle, determined to keep his good mood going. He didn’t deserve to be stressed after such a great start to our warm-up.
“I’m a little on edge,” I said. “I don’t know how Callie’s going to act toward me, but I’m sure she’s going to be professional. She’ll probably just ignore me.”
Brit gave me a half smile. “I’m sorry you’re nervous. But remember—you’ve got Heather and me in the arena with you. You’re not alone.”
“I know—and thanks.”
“Want to trot?” Brit asked.
“Definitely,” I said.
We squeezed our legs against our horses’ sides and as they started to trot, Callie and Black Jack entered the arena. Callie had brushed the beautiful gelding to a shining black—his dark coat stark against the white English saddle pad.
Callie, probably feeling as I had during my first YENT lesson, had put extra effort into dressing up. She wore maroon breeches that I hadn’t seen before and a black long sleeve shirt. Charm, seeing Jack, would have paused mid-trot if I didn’t encouraged him to keep going. But as we followed Brit and Apollo, leaving Jack and Callie behind, Charm tried to turn his head to see his friend and, for a reason I didn’t know, I let him stop.
Jack, strained against the reins, stretching his neck toward Charm.
And Callie let Jack walk over.
Tension rippled through my muscles.. I was so over drama—all I wanted to do was focus on the lesson—and I had to hope that the Callie I used to know wanted the same. My fingers gripped the reins and my heart rate sped up, making me all the more happy to have Charm with me.
Callie halted Jack in front of Charm and the two horses sniffed muzzles.
“Hey,” I said, my tone cautious, but friendly.
“Hey,” Callie echoed.
We both looked down, then back at each other.
“Callie—”
“Sasha—”
We spoke at the same time.
“Go ahead,” I said, not wanting her to think I was interrupting and make her angry.
“I just wanted to say that I don’t want things to be weird when we practice. Our personal drama has to be separate from this. And I know you know that.”
“I do. The YENT is too important to both of us for our issues to follow us into the arena. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to Heather and Brit. We’d be dragging down the team.”
Callie reached down to adjust her left stirrup iron. She looked back at me, a calm resolve on her face. Maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay with us on the same team. I certainly hadn’t expected Callie to talk to me on the first day of practice.
“I feel exactly the same way. So, in the arena, we’re teammates.”
I smiled. This was going waaay better than I’d expected, “Definitely.”
“But not friends,” Callie said.
She turned Jack away and they moved at a smooth trot down the arena.
I stared after her, almost not able to digest how fast our conversation had gone wrong. I knew Callie and I weren’t friends, but to hear her say it again, to my face, stung.
You can’t let this throw you off, I told myself. You were prepared for this.
But no matter how much I’d tried to ready myself, it still hurt.
I tapped my boots gently against Charm’s sides, asking him to trot. We followed behind Apollo and kept our distance from Callie. I didn’t want to get to close to her and have her think I was being “friendly” or anything.
No one said a word while we finished our warm-up. Never a second late, Mr. Conner walked into the arena on time.
“Hi, girls,” he said. He turned to Callie. “Welcome to your first official YENT practice. We’re all glad to have you here.”
Callie smiled. “Thank you. I’m really excited about the team.”
Mr. Conner smoothed his shirt. “Before we get started, I wanted to take a brief moment to remind you of our priorities as riders. You’re all here to learn about horses—from in-depth care to basic medical training—and yes, you’re on this team to become stronger riders. When we begin training for the Huntington Classic, I don’t want any of you to forget that. We will not be a team that only focuses on shows. There are many more important aspects to your careers as riders.”
Heather, Callie, Brit, and I all nodded. That had been Mr. Conner’s message since the day I’d started at Canterwood—he’d never wanted us to become riders who didn’t muck our horses’ stalls, didn’t care about our horses’ health, or obsessed over competition alone.
And each of us had been too focused on showing before. I’d moved past that phase—I’d realized the hard way that if, like Mr. Conner said, I wanted this to be my career, I couldn’t make competing my entire life. Once I’d made that choice and had started to find the balance with school, boys, and friends, I’d been happier and a better rider.
“So, let’s get started,” Mr. Conner said. “If everyone’s warmed up, I want to focus on jumping for this lesson.”
Yes! I said to myself.
“During tryouts, I noticed there are a few minor issues with timing,” Mr. Conner said. “It’s good to be aware of and it’s something we can work on—all of us.”
Charm and I definitely had issues with that sometimes. During most of our rides, I still had to do a basic move and count strides in my head before we reached a jump. By now, I should have been able to jump without counting strides like a beginner.
“Mike and Doug have assembled a jump course that I want each of you to work over,” Mr. Conner said. “You’ll each take turns and I want you to do something you learned in beginning riding lessons.”
We all looked at each other before turning back to Mr. Conner.
“I want you to count the strides out loud,” he said. “I know you’re probably thinking that I’m telling you to talk to your horses when riding. But this is an exception.”
I liked this idea.
“While you count out loud,” Mr. Conner continued. “I’ll be taking notes and writing it down if you call out the stride at the wrong time.”
Maybe I didn’t like this idea so much now.
I didn’t want anyone to hear me counting out loud and making mistakes. It wasn’t as if anyone—like Callie—would say anything out loud about my ride, but I’d be wondering the entire time what she’d be thinking.
“Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “I’d like you and Charm to go first.”
I gulped.
“Okay,” I said, in that squeaky tone I hated.
“The course is straightforward and, as part of our exercise, I don’t want you to walk it first. All of the jumps are not any higher than anything you’ve jumped previously. It’s more about timing than about difficulty. Don’t rush, just take your time and remember that I want to hear your counting.”
I nodded and readied myself in the saddle. Mr. Conner’s comment about not rushing made me feel as if I could take a second to ready myself. I made sure the stirrups were on the balls of my feet. Then I adjusted the reins in my hands. The extra seconds made me feel more comfortable and ready to tackle the ten jumps.
“I’m ready,” I said.
And I meant it. Charm could do this.
Mr. Conner stepped to the side of the arena and the rest of the horses and riders followed him. I blocked out everyone watching me. After enough lessons and shows, I was finally able to forget that people, even Callie, were watching.
I started Charm at a trot, keeping him away from the jumps. I let him into a canter and took him through two circles, making sure he was settled, before allowing him to move toward the first jump. With an even stride, and both ears flicking back at me, Charm glided toward the first red and white striped vertical that wasn’t higher than three feet—an easy start to our ride.
In that second, I knew I’d done the right thing with the circles and with settling him before we’d started. We were both less nervous and more comfortable—his body language said it all.
“Start counting,” Mr. Conner reminded me.
Oops.
“Seven,” I said.
“Louder,” Mr. Conner called. “I want to hear you, Sasha. You won’t throw off Charm, don’t worry. He’s used to noise from the crowds at shows.”
“Six,” I said, raising my voice.
“Good,” Mr. Conner said.
“Five, four, three, two,” I said. I started to prepare myself for the jump.
“One, now!” The last word came out louder than anything I’d said.
At the right moment, Charm gathered himself, rocked back on his haunches and prepared to clear the jump. I lifted slightly out of the saddle and eased my hands a few inches forward along his neck. Charm flew over the vertical, landing with what I was sure were several inches behind us—his back hooves not even coming close to hitting the rail.
Charm hadn’t even reacted to my counting. I’d been sort of worried that my voice would distract him, but he was such a calm horse—he didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
“Excellent,” Mr. Conner called. “Keep it up!”
The next vertical, white with gold stripes that sparkled in the sunlight, was higher than the first by a couple of inches.
“Four, three, two, one, now!” I counted aloud.
Charm pushed off from the ground, recognizing the extra height in this jump. He was the right distance from the rails and, again, we were in no danger of knocking the rail.
We landed safely on the other side and I was in the zone—completely focused and not even aware of anything but Charm and the eight obstacles we had left to go.
I counted strides to the double oxer with faux flower boxes on the sides and the yellow flowers didn’t even catch Charm’s attention.
We made our way over two more verticals, both a striking cobalt blue, that were spaced close together, and I forgot that I was counting aloud. This exercise was one of my favorites, and probably the most beneficial to me as a rider. I knew I’d be doing it on my own, too.
Charm and I started a sweeping half turn around the arena. His canter was flowing and smooth. I sat easily to his smooth stride—summers of riding bareback through the pastures had paid off.
We finished the circle and the extra time gave us room for the double oxer we were approaching. By a notch, I let Charm increase his speed to get enough room to make it over the spread. On either side of the oxer, white trellises had fake ivy weaving in and out.
“Five,” I said. “Four, three, two, one, now!”
On now, Charm moved back on his haunches and he tucked his knees under his body. The extra speed gave him enough of a boost to make it over the spread.
Oxers were one of my fave jumps. There was no other feeling like the suspension in the air. Clichéd or not, it really did feel like flying.
The jump ended so fast—it was too much fun! Charm landed with a soft thud on the other side and I let him keep up his speed as he made his way toward the next vertical. This one had plastic board with orange swirls on the sides. The swirls, meant to throw off the horse, didn’t even cause Charm to pause.
We cleared the vertical without a problem, trying not to get too excited, I realized we only had two jumps left—a faux stone wall and a final vertical.
The faux brick stone wall wasn’t too high. I counted the strides and Charm leapt the wall without a problem. He didn’t know the wall was fake, but he trusted me to get him over the “bricks” safely.
We landed and I cheered in my head. One more left!
“Four, three, two, one, now!” I counted. I knew I’d made a mistake the second I lifted out of the saddle a half second too early.
Charm, always eager to rush the last jump, left the ground on “one” instead of “now” and he wasn’t ready. I’d caused him to leave too late.
It was no surprise when I heard the click of Charm’s hooves against the top railing. He landed and it tumbled behind us, the plastic piping thudding against the ground.
I frowned with disappointment, but patted Charm’s neck. He’d done an amazing job—listening to everything I’d told him. The final jump had been my mistake—I knew about his history with rushing final fences and I’d let my enthusiasm about the end of the ride cost us a knocked rail.
I let him canter for a few more strides, then slowed him to a trot before turning him back to Mr. Conner and the rest of the YENT team.
Mr. Conner finished making final notes on his clipboard, his black Bic pressing into the paper before he looked up at me.
“What did you think about counting aloud?” he asked.
“It was really helpful,” I said. “I still do it in my head and to hear myself count out loud was helpful.”
“Why was it helpful?” Mr. Conner asked.
I paused, then decided the only way to help myself was to be honest. “Because it made me feel less embarrassed about being on the YENT and still counting strides in my head.”
“Sasha,” Mr. Conner said. “This,” and his gestured around the arena with his hand, “is an embarrassment free-zone. You’re all here learning together. And, specifically to the issue of you feeling as though you shouldn’t be counting strides, many riders at higher levels than you still count in their heads. You’re a talented jumper and I want you to feel comfortable using whatever method works for you.”
“Thank you,” I said. I finally glanced at the other girls. Callie wasn’t smirking or looking happy about my mistake. Heather had her ever-present you’ll do better next time or else look, which was oddly comforting. Brit, smiling, mouthed, good job.
Thanks, I mouthed back before looking at Mr. Conner.
Mr. Conner smiled at me. “The counting to yourself has obviously worked. I didn’t see any instances of timing problems except for the final jump, which you’re aware of. We know Charm has a history of rushing jumps.”
“It was my fault,” I said. “I got excited that there was only one jump left. My brain knew about Charm’s history with final jumps, but I let my own feelings get in the way. He was already primed to go early and I let him.”
“That’s one issue that you’ll both continue to work on,” Mr. Conner said. “Charm responds well to you, Sasha, so I don’t foresee this becoming a major issue. If, in the future, Charm stops listening and rushes no matter how much we’ve worked with him, we’ll start on a new strategy. Okay?”
“That sounds great,” I said. “Thank you.”
Mr. Conner glanced over to Callie. “Ready?”
Callie nodded. “Ready.”
By the tone of her voice, I knew this was going to be a ride that would captivate everyone’s attention. Callie was on.
And I was right.
Callie counted out the timing before the ten jumps and didn’t miss a stride. She rode as if she were testing for the YENT.
I glanced at Brit and, I swear, ESP passed between us. I wished I’d been able to ride with my BlackBerry because Brit and I needed a BBM convo right N-O-W.
Mr. Conner discussed Callie’s ride, pointing out a mistake I hadn’t even seen.
Then Heather rode. She and Aristocrat swept around the course, both horse and rider in unison. I tried to take in every bit of what Heather was doing from the way she timed the jumps to how Aristocrat responded to her cues. If I had to choose among Callie, Brit, or Heather as the best rider—I couldn’t.
And, in that moment, reality hit me.
Each rider had been chosen because no one was supposed to be able to distinguish who was better. From my place atop Charm’s back, I realized this was the final YENT team.
Callie.
Brit.
Heather.
And me.
After Brit had finished her ride, which only solicited a couple of comments from Mr. Conner, he talked to us as a group about how we’d done. Even though I’d rushed the final jump, I was still proud of my ride.