10 
10 Lauren
“WELCOME, EVERYONE!”
My friends and I stood in a warm indoor arena at Safe Haven for Thoroughbreds. I eyed the fifteen or so other volunteers with us—most of them looking like they were in college or older. We had gathered around the volunteer director as she stood on a mounting block to address us.
“I’m Lyssa, a name you might recognize from e-mails from our group,” the petite brunette said. “I can’t thank you all enough for being here this morning and for the time you have offered to dedicate to some very deserving horses.”
Taylor and I exchanged excited smiles. We’d all gotten here early this morning and signed in—wanting to make a good impression on our first day. The rest of my friends surrounded us and directed their attention to Lyssa.
“As many of you know, life for ex-racehorses can be extremely challenging,” Lyssa said. “For some, their life begins and ends with the track. I want to make it clear that I am not here to advocate against the sport of horse racing—only to inform you about the reality of what happens to some, not all, ex-racehorses.”
From somewhere in the stable, a whinny from one horse set off a chorus of neighs.
Lyssa smiled. “I’m an ex-jockey. I started racing in high school and rode for many years. My career ended about five years ago due to an injury. I knew nothing else but racing. What was I supposed to do with my life? That’s kind of what it’s like for some of our horses.”
“It’s so cool that she used to be a jockey,” Ana whispered to me.
I nodded. “She got hurt and she’s still involved with horses. That’s awesome.”
“Some racehorses suffer injuries during their careers and are put down by their owners,” Lyssa said. “Not all earn enough money from races to make valuable studs or broodmares. Those that aren’t put down are sometimes sent to the auction block to be sold and retrained for various uses. Others are sold for practically pennies to slaughterhouses.”
My stomach turned. I couldn’t even think about or really try to process Lyssa’s last sentence. It wasn’t something that I didn’t already know, but hearing it was different. Maybe the fact that we were surrounded by horses made it harder to think about too.
“Safe Haven, like many similar groups, is a nonprofit organization that rescues ex-racehorses who are in danger of being euthanized. Sadly, we cannot save every horse. Even some that we do rescue have to be put down because their injuries are so severe. We don’t want to keep a horse alive if there’s no chance of recovering and if the quality of life is not pleasant for that animal.”
Lyssa shifted on the block. She looked down, almost as if composing herself, then glanced back up at us.
“But for the horses we save,” Lyssa said, a smile on her face, “we are lucky enough to get to know them, care for them, and rehabilitate them for a new life. Their new purpose could vary from a light pleasure horse, to a stable horse for lessons, a therapy horse used for children and adults with disabilities, or a companion that cannot be ridden but can be loved by an adopter.”
Lyssa nodded at an older girl who had her hand raised.
“Are all the horses up for adoption?” the girl asked.
“No,” Lyssa said. “Some horses have been through too much trauma for us to feel comfortable placing them in a new home. Some of the horses who are up for adoption have been with us for months or years and haven’t found the right match yet.”
I frowned. It made me sad to think of a horse waiting to be chosen for a new home.
“We do not euthanize those horses,” Lyssa continued. “Through donations, we are able to provide them with a place to live out the rest of their natural lives.”
Mom and Dad were in trouble. Now I wanted to adopt a stable full of ex-racehorses! Somehow, I didn’t think that was a Christmas present they would go for. I thought back to my birthday party, when I’d asked for donations to SHT. It wasn’t the same as actually adopting a horse, but raising money to help the cause was something I was going to keep doing.
“The details of jobs we need completed are listed in the information packet that I’ll pass out now,” Lyssa said. “Please make sure everyone gets one, and read through the entire packet. Many of you signed up with friends, and the coordinators did their best to keep those groups together during specific time slots. The times and days we’re expecting you vary. If you have more time to spare, you’re obviously more than welcome to come whenever you’d like.”
A stack of packets reached me. I took one of the thick packets and handed the rest to Brielle. She did the same and passed it to Zack, who was shoulder to shoulder with Khloe. The two weren’t officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but they had been on enough dates that I bet Zack was going to ask KK the big question soon. They complemented each other perfectly. Zack was funny and animated like Khloe. He was also très cute, with dark-blond hair—something Khloe especially liked.
“Each task is labeled with the required experience needed from you,” Lyssa said. “For example, you’ll see on page five that ‘Advertising’ has a label of ‘No experience.’ The task of ‘Exercising’ has a label of ‘Advanced’ beside it. Each task is color coordinated to match the name tag you should have picked up when you signed in this morning.”
I looked down at the laminated card that hung from my neck. My name was highlighted in green. Advanced tasks were green. All of my friends’ tags matched mine in color. Taylor’s name on his tag was in red—no experience. I wondered if he felt uncomfortable with a red tag, but as I looked around the crowd, I saw more red tags than I’d expected. Hopefully, that would make Tay feel like he fit in.
“There are lockers for you to store water bottles, snacks—whatever you’d like,” Lyssa said. “You’ll find the lockers just outside the arena near the tack room. Since it’s the first day, your only task today was to attend orientation. Since I’m not here all of the time, there are different coordinators to help steer you in the right direction.”
“How do we know who’s a coordinator?” a guy from the other side of the crowd asked.
“All coordinators’ names are typed in bold font and have a star next to them,” Lyssa said.
I spotted a starred badge a few people away. If I volunteer here every holiday and each summer, I wonder if I could be a coordinator? I thought.
“If you’d like to stay,” Lyssa continued, “please feel free to do so. You’re welcome to watch some of our regular volunteers and get a feel for what you may be doing during your time with us.”
Lyssa smiled and clasped her hands in front of her. “Thank you all for your time during the holiday season. We wouldn’t be able to hold our annual adopt-a-thon without people like you. I’ll be here if anyone has questions, and please come ready to work when your first shift arrives. You’ll find the name of your coordinator next to your time slot. Again, thank you, and I can’t wait to get started!”
The arena filled with applause. I clapped so hard, my hands stung. With a little wave, Lyssa stepped off the mounting block. I turned to my friends.
“Is this the coolest thing or what?” I asked.
“I’m so excited!” Cole said. His green eyes were wide and almost the same color as the highlighted text on his name tag.
Garret flipped through the packet. “Are we all in the same group?”
I flipped a few pages and stopped.
“Yep!” Clare said. “There are all of our names. We’re on Tuesday afternoon. Score!”
“Uh . . . ,” Khloe started, an odd look on her face. “Do you guys see—”
“No way!” I said. I peered at my paper. I was having a hallucination. I mean, I’ve never had one before, but this had to be one. I blinked. But the words were there in black ink, not disappearing no matter how many times I blinked.
“Looks like we have company,” Drew said, his voice low.
I looked at him, expecting him to be staring at the paper too, but he was gazing over my shoulder.
“Are you stalking us?” Sasha asked as I turned around to face her. Her smile assured me she was kidding.
“Totally,” I teased back. “We not only chose the same place to volunteer, but we also made sure we got almost every time slot that you guys did.”
The other Canterwood students stopped next to us. Most of them smiled at my comment. I realized that Sasha and I were the two who stood slightly in front of the rest of our friends. She was the leader of the legendary Sasha & Co., but I certainly wasn’t a “leader” of my group. I took a tiny step back so I was aligned with Drew.
“I can’t believe you’re all here too,” Sasha said. “Lauren, was this how you convinced your parents to let you bring friends home for Christmas?”
“Actually, yes,” I said. “And our horses, too.”
“We should all wear matching Canterwood Crest sweatshirts every day,” Paige said.
“Ooh, yeah!” Callie said with a giggle as she high-fived Paige. “We are representing Canterwood.”
Everyone laughed.
“Speaking of school,” Garret said, adjusting the black beanie over his red hair, “I’m sure Headmistress Drake has spies here somewhere making sure we don’t”—he paused—“ ‘tarnish the reputation of an elite institution.’ ”
Everybody laughed.
“That’s exactly what Headmistress Drake would say,” Eric said. “Your impression was dead-on too.”
The dark-haired guy smiled at Garret. I’d heard stories that Sasha, who was now dating Jacob, had dated Eric. Does every guy who meets Sasha ask her out? I thought.
“The headmistress probably had cameras installed in the stable,” Brit Chan said. The pretty girl had her long black hair in a low side braid. I knew that she was Sasha’s roommate at school.
I realized both of our groups had melded into a cluster as we bantered back and forth.
“That’s not enough,” Lexa said. Her big brown eyes were wide. “I bet there are tiny cameras hidden somewhere on the tack so she can monitor us when we’re exercising the horses.”
Heather gave Lexa a quick grin. “Not bad. I was thinking the same thing.”
I could almost feel Lexa’s excitement from Heather’s compliment.
“I’m glad you guys were here,” Sasha said. “We were ready on time, but my dad overslept.”
“You probably want to sign in,” I said. “You’ll get a name badge like this.” I held mine up. “Lyssa, the volunteer director, has info packets. She’s . . .” I looked for her and finally spotted the woman, surrounded by volunteers. I pointed. “. . . the one being swarmed by people.”
Taylor held out his info packet to Jacob. “You want to keep that and make copies for you guys? It would probably take you longer to get to Lyssa.”
Jacob, smiling, took the papers. “Thanks. Taylor, right? Sorry—I’m bad with names.”
Taylor nodded. “You can keep mine. I’ll share with one of my friends.”
“Thank you,” Sasha said. “I really didn’t want to have to go up to Lyssa and have our first impression be that we’re the ones who missed orientation.”
“Lyssa’s really nice,” I said. “I don’t think she’d hold anything against you. Nothing she said was info that’s not in the packet.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Jacob said. “And if Drake’s watching us, we better stop standing around talking.”
Sasha smiled at Jacob, slipping her hand into his. “Good point. Let’s go sign in, guys.”
We traded “See you laters,” and my group hung back as Sasha and her friends left the arena to sign in.
I turned to my friends. “I don’t know about you guys, but it feels like it would be kind of a waste of time to call my dad to come get us. We really just got here. What do you think?”
“I agree,” Ana said. “I really want to look around.”
“Okay!” Khloe said, bouncing on her toes. “Girl time!”
“Girl time?” Zack asked, shaking his head. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
Khloe lightly smacked Zack’s upper arm. “It means you guys are going to go do whatever boys do for a while so the girls can talk.” She smiled sweetly at Zack.
“You were together all night and this morning,” Cole said. “There’s still more to talk about?”
“Um, always!” Clare said. She shook her head, and the rest of us joined in with pretend disgusted looks at the boys.
“Guys, meet us at the stable entrance in an hour?” Lexa asked.
With nods of agreement, we split up.