BLAST FROM THE PAST
THE NEXT MORNING, I WOKE UP TO ALISON’S alarm clock. I’d slept in her room and Brit had stayed with Heather. I sat up, smiling as I thought about last night. Heather’s party had been exactly what she’d wanted from the first DVD to the last. We’d stuffed ourselves with Junior Mints, Skittles, Dots, and soda. Stephanie had brought us a pizza and a lilac-colored cake fit for five, that had HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HEATHER! written in a beautiful font.
“Morning,” Alison said, getting up and reaching for riding clothes in her closet. We had an early morning lesson to get to and, if she was anything like me, she was definitely still a little groggy from staying up late.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m going to run back to my room in my PJs, get dressed, and meet you, Julia, and Heather at the stable. Cool?”
“Definitely. I’ll see you there.”
I headed for the door.
“Sasha?”
I turned and Alison walked over and hugged me. “Thanks for helping give Heather such an awesome birthday.”
“Of course,” I said, hugging her back. “She’s my friend—plus thirteen is a major deal. I think she got what she wanted.”
Smiling, I left Alison’s room. At the same time, Brit came out of the bathroom.
“You ready?” I asked. “We better go back to our room, get dressed, and go to the stable.”
“Def.”
We slipped on our flip-flops, and Heather emerged from her room in pink shorts and a white v-neck T-shirt. She walked up to us and got so close to me that I was afraid she was going to do something to me! And she did.
Heather reached out her arms and gave me a hug. It was the quickest hug in the history of hugs, but it was still bodily contact that wasn’t, well, violent. She hugged Brit, too, and smiled at both of us. She looked sleepy, with her normally straight hair a little tangled.
“Thank you both,” she said. “I got exactly the birthday I wanted, thanks to you guys. I had the best birthday ever.”
“You’re welcome,” Brit said.
“I’m glad you had a good birthday,” I said. “Don’t expect this kind of treatment every year.” I stuck out my tongue at her, teasing.
Heather rolled her eyes with a hint of a smile and opened the door. “See you at the stable.”
Brit and I left the suite and hurried to our room to get dressed and bundled up to go out in the cold morning air. That was my least favorite part of fall riding lessons—it took forever to throw on all the layers of clothes.
* * *
We walked down the sidewalk to the stables, and I noticed a silver horse trailer in the parking lot.
“They’re not bringing trailers on campus yet for Huntington, are they?” I asked Brit.
She looked at the trailer, frowning. “I don’t think so. It’s kind of early.”
A man got out of the truck cab and walked around to the back of the trailer. Brit and I slowed, watching. He unlatched the door and stepped into the trailer. After a few seconds, a horse started to back out of the trailer. A gray mare stepped calmly out of the trailer, backing down the ramp and stepping onto the driveway. She was covered in a dark pink blanket with a matching halter and leg wraps.
“She’s gorgeous,” Brit said. “Wow. Almost perfect conformation.”
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “She’s beautiful.”
She looked familiar. But why? I had no idea where I’d seen her. Maybe a video or at another show.
“I bet she’s a horse that Mr. Conner’s going to work with once his leg is healed,” I said.
“Ahhh,” Brit said, nodding. “You’re probably right.”
The truck door with its tinted window opened and two black boots dangled above the pavement for a second before stepping onto the pavement. A willowy girl with long, wavy brown hair stepped around the truck door, closing it behind her and heading to the back of the trailer. She wore a hound’s-tooth blazer, white breeches, and leather gloves. I squinted. She looked so familiar. But no, there was no way . . .
She took the lead line from the man and turned the horse in the direction of the stable. I saw her face and I felt as if my heart fell to my boots.
“Sasha, c’mon,” Brit said.
But I stood there. Watching.
The girl?
Lauren Towers.