Chosen (7 page)

I pulled her back into a straight line with steady pressure, tightening my legs against her sides.

Cricket's ears flicked back and forth. Her body tensed beneath me.

My own nerves started to surface.

You can do this—you've done it a zillion times
.

Three deep breaths and we were in front of the ditch. I squeezed my boots against Cricket, leaning forward. The pretty bay didn't balk. She rocked back on her haunches and then—jumped!

Airborne.

It felt like much longer than the few seconds I knew to be true time. Our landing was smooth. We cantered our way through the rest of the course, heading to the final jump.

The last jump, a vertical, had plastic pinwheels on the
sides. The wheels spun in the gentle breeze and the blue-and-red wheels caught the sunlight. Cricket, emboldened after conquering the ditch, didn't respond to the pinwheels.

She stayed on track and jumped the tall vertical, landing with barely any sound at all, and then cantered back toward the group.

“Good girl!” I rubbed her neck and she snorted with what I knew to be pride.

I rode her through a few circles to let her muscles stretch and cool before I halted her. I looked at Kim, who had the stopwatch in hand.

“Lauren,” Kim's voice sounded stern.

What? Oh, no—

“That . . . was a lovely ride,” Kim finished.

I let out a frenetic breath. The truth was, after I'd done it, I'd felt sure Kim would be upset that I'd galloped on course. I knew we were technically allowed to, but Kim only wanted us to gallop when absolutely necessary.

I realized I still hadn't replied to Kim's compliment just as she began to speak again.

“Did the wind from your speed round give you a hearing problem?” Kim teased.

The other girls laughed.

“I was going to say that you took a gamble and it paid off. Sometimes, you have to take chances. It could have cost you a jump if you hadn't been able to slow Cricket. But you got her back under control and came in with the fastest time so far. Nice work.” Kim pointed to Ana. “Your turn.”

Ana and Leah had clean rides, too, but their times were still seconds slower than mine. Kim didn't have to say who had been the fastest with the cleanest ride, and I was glad when she didn't formally announce me as the winner. My successful ride had been the highlight of my week.

It made me feel like I hadn't disappointed anyone today—Mom and Dad especially—who had moved from Brooklyn to Union for me. They'd realized I needed a fresh start and Mom had applied for a job at a law firm just outside of Union. When she'd gotten the job, they'd taken me for a walk, asking how I felt about a new start at Briar Creek and a break from competition.

When they told me about one of Kim's students getting into Canterwood Crest Academy, it was a fact that sealed the deal. I'd already known a ton about Canterwood, so once I'd heard that this stable had a connection with the elite school, I couldn't have been more excited. Becca, on board for anything, had practically
packed her stuff in a day. We'd never been happier than we were in Union.

“Nice work today, ladies,” Kim said. She put her stopwatch into her back pocket. “Please cool out your horses and make sure they're fed and watered and have clean stalls before you leave. I'll see you at the next lesson.”

We dismounted and followed Kim back to the stable.

“Whoa,” Ana said, leading Breeze next to me. The mare, working off a slight hay belly, was sweating around her saddle pad. “You really went for it—that was awesome!”

“Totally,” Brielle said, reaching my other side. “I didn't think you were going to do it, but you did. That was great.”

“Guys, stop,” I said, waving my free hand. “It was one good round. Your rides were clean, too.”

Ana and Brielle both raised their eyebrows at the same time.

“Fine, fine,” Brielle said in a singsong voice. “Whatever you say. Just don't do that every time.
I'm
the jumping queen.”

“Got it,” I said, laughing.

Walking our horses close together, the three of us talked and laughed the entire way back to the stable. And just like that, glee didn't feel like enough anymore.

I HEADED OUTSIDE TO THE STABLE PARKING
lot and waited for Dad. Brielle and Ana left with Ana's mom. The two of them lived in the same neighborhood on the opposite side of town from me and my family.

While I waited for Dad, I played on my phone. I updated my Chatter status, an addiction of mine that Mom called the biggest waste of time ever, but I loved it. It was like a public diary.

A few months ago, I'd gone back and read a bunch of Chatter updates I'd posted over a year ago and realized something: they'd
all
been about riding. I thought back to some of the status updates as I leaned against the stable.

Swept the 3 day event! #1! 6:08 p.m
.

Bad lesson. Fell off twice. Practicing 3x as long 2mrw. 11:14 p.m
.

Starting @ new stable. Hope I like it. 2:09 a.m
.

That had been my last round of riding-only related Chats. After I'd started at Briar Creek and enrolled at Yates, my Chats had changed. I scrolled through my last three Chats.

@AnaArtiste U have the English hmwk? 3:40 p.m
.

Ahhh! @BrielleisaBeauty & @AnaArtiste I wish you guys were here right now! Just dropped ice cream on new black ballerina skirt—fashion fail! 12:15 p.m
.

Waiting 4 news on something. Something kinda big. Rlly big, I guess. 9:07 p.m
.

Now I had real-life friends following me, reading my thoughts, and my life didn't revolve solely around the stable.

My priorities had shifted, but it didn't mean I loved horses any less. Instead I found out I actually loved a bunch of things all at once.

And I was still as in love with riding as ever.

My phone buzzed and the symbol for a BBM appeared.

Taylor:

How was ur lesson?

I knew he would BBM me. Tay, an athlete like me, understood how important lessons and practice sessions were. We always BBM'd or spoke to each other after one
of us had swim practice (him) or a riding lesson (me). He understood me in a way that no other guy did.

I typed back.

Lauren:

U know what? Awesome! My horse jumped rlly well—I'm happy.

Taylor:

Your horse wasn't the only one who did well, LT. V cool!

Lauren:

Oh, pls. ;) Still @ BC I'm waiting 4 my dad. U?

Taylor:

Hmwk. Then backyard kickball w Sam. Mom asked me 2 so she could study
.

Taylor's mom was going back to school to get her master's degree in psychology. She'd been at home with Taylor and his little brother, Sam, since they'd been born, but Mrs. Frost had decided to go back to school last fall.

Lauren:

Don't beat him 2 bad. ;)

Taylor

Ha. Plan = kick the ball into the Pearsons' yard and hope it lands in their garden—aka “the jungle.” It'll take him hrs 2 find it
.

Lauren:

Tay!

I laughed. Taylor talked a big game, but I knew he'd never play dirty with Sam. He loved his little brother—they'd probably have so much fun that they'd play until dark.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath tires made me look up from the BlackBerry's lit-up screen. Dad's black SUV crawled up the driveway. He always made sure to drive extra slow, so as not to spook the grazing horses.

Lauren:

Dad alert. TTYL & say hi 2 Sam
.

Taylor:

Done. TTYL, LT
.

I locked my phone's keypad before shoving it into my bag and climbing into the passenger seat.

“Hello, Laur-Bell,” Dad said. He lifted my heavy bag from my struggling grasp, tossing it onto the backseat like it was filled with feathers. “How was your lesson?”

“Well . . .” I said. “We jumped today.”

Dad's eyes shot over to me, then back to the driveway. “How'd that go?” Dad asked. I recognized the Dad-tone in his voice—the one that tried so hard to be casual.

“Really,
really
well.” I exhaled.

Dad unclenched his fingers from their white-hard grip on the steering wheel.

“I had a clean round and the fastest time of anyone,” I continued.

Dad rolled to a stop before pulling onto the main road. “That's great, Bell! I'm so proud. Wait 'til Mom hears this! What did Kim say to you?”

I played with the star-shaped stud in my ear. “She said I took a risk, but”—I rushed to get the rest out—“a good risk. Just by galloping before a jump. I haven't felt that good about jumping since, well, then.”

I could practically see the brief wave of pain roll over Dad. But I also saw what followed: He shook it off and smiled a genuine smile at me.

“My girl looks happier than I've seen in a while—that's what I care about.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I grinned, looking down. A stack of mail was tucked in the partition between the seats next to Dad's travel mug.

I tried, unsuccessfully, to keep from staring.

“Anything good?” Now I heard my own forced casual voice.

I didn't have to say anything else.

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry,” Dad said. “Those are just bills I brought to look over in case I had to wait for you.”

Again, a bunch of different emotions washed over me.
Relief that there wasn't a yes, happiness that there wasn't a no. Impatience. And, stronger than the rest, grateful that today would still just be the day that I killed the jumps at practice.

“It's okay,” I said. “I know it's going to be a few more weeks before I hear from Canterwood.”

Dad glanced at me. “How are you feeling about Canterwood these days? We haven't talked about it in a while.”

“Honestly? I don't know yet how I feel,” I said. “It changes every time I think about it.” I looked at the stack of envelopes. “Or every time I see mail,” I added.

Dad laughed. “How do you mean?”

I let his question rattle around in my head before answering. “Well, half of the time, I'm disappointed when there's no acceptance letter. The other half of the time, I'm relieved there's no letter because it could mean a no. And then I go back and forth about getting in. The school is so amazing, Dad. I want it—I want to be chosen so bad. But then . . . what happens if I actually get what I want?”

“Then you'll go and you'll do great,” Dad said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Suddenly my seat belt was constricting my chest. I tried to pull on it, but it only tangled and locked in place.
“Maybe I won't, though! I could get in and completely drop the ball. Academics there are hard. Everyone talks about how tough classes are and the pace there is so fast. I might not be able to keep up with school
and
riding. What if I fail, Dad?” I paused, feeling my fair cheeks burn with the weight of all my unanswered questions. “What if I fall?”

“Laur-Bell,” Dad leaned over and touched my hand. “You're a smart girl. Yates is
not
an easy school, and you're taking the most difficult and fullest course load possible there. I know how hard you work.”

“What about falling?” I asked again.

Dad laughed. “Where's the girl I just picked up from practice? The one who got in the car and told me how she kicked everyone's butt at jumping today?”