No Horse Wanted (14 page)

“Late party last night after the
cross-country team won the meet?” Mr. Sutcliffe asked, his brown
eyes crinkling with laughter and a big, warm smile on his face.

“I wish,” I said. “My silly horse colicked,
probably because supper was late, and I was up with him till three
in the morning.”

“Oh, no.” Dani stopped behind me and unzipped
her backpack to do the homework hunt. “Is he okay? What did Dr.
Larry say?”

“To get used to colics because it’s a problem
that a lot of horses have when they’re so debilitated.” I handed
over the paper to Mr. Sutcliffe and took back my coffee. “And then
he told me to stop having my nails done and to have the artificial
ones removed because they’ll rip through the glove when I have to
stick my arm up Twaziem’s tushie and clean out the poop.”

Mr. Sutcliffe held out the page as if it came
from the barn, not my backpack. “Please tell me you washed your
hands before you did your homework.”

Dani laughed and handed over her paper. “Come
on, Mr. S. If there was poop on it, you could see it.”

“Yes, but a couple weeks ago she gave me a
paper with teeth marks,” Mr. Sutcliffe said. “I knew the assignment
was difficult, but I didn’t expect anyone to have to chew their way
through it.”

“My cat got it,” I told Dani, “and I didn’t
have time to do it over.”

“That’s her story and she’s sticking to it.”
Mr. Sutcliffe laughed, a deep rumble. “I’m going with the idea that
I’m a tough teacher, and it was a hard assignment.”

“Keep dreaming,” I told him. Still carrying
my coffee cup, I headed for my desk.

There was a student pileup at the door. Mr.
Sutcliffe admitted this was his first teaching job and he thought
we should all be as excited about Math and Science as he was. I had
to admire the guy. At least he wasn’t a phony, and he was never
mean. Maybe I could talk to him about the installment payments on
the Mustang and see if he agreed with my dad about the long-term
cost of the car.

I’d barely sat down when Olivia strutted
over, flanked by two Native American girls. Olivia was Native,
African-American and Asian—absolutely gorgeous and a total witch,
only I spelled it with a “b.” Even if she could really run, she’d
lost me as an admirer last spring when she pitched a fit at one of
the last track meets and called the official a racist for
restarting the long distance race because there had been too much
messing around.

“What’s up?” I didn’t like looking up at her,
so I stood. “You have a problem with me?”

“I don’t like losing,” Olivia said,
“especially to princesses like you and your posse.”

“Well, suck it up, buttercup.” I met her
glare for glare. “We crossed the finish line first. Fair is fair.”
I had to be honest, even with her, so I added, “If Gwen had been
stung by those wasps, we’d have lost because she’s hyper
allergic.”

“And you wouldn’t have left her,” Cedar
sneered.

I let the silence build while I looked at
her. She always copied exactly what Olivia wore and tried to act
like her, but she didn’t have her friend’s guts. “No more than
Olivia would have left you.”

A smile flickered across Olivia’s beautiful
brown face, then disappeared. “Exactly, so we’re running with you
and your buds starting next practice.”

“But, we hate them,” Kanisha whined.

“They win so we’re running with them.”
Olivia’s tone made it a statement, not a question. She turned away.
“We’ll see you Monday at practice.”

I knew it was petty, but I didn’t care since
her friends were already sniveling. Plus, I was mad. My family
might call me Princess Robin, but nobody else better. “You’ve got a
problem,” I said.

“Really?” She swung back to face me, ready to
call me out for being prejudiced. “What?”

“I run at least six miles a day, every day.”
I smiled sweetly. “Since Gwen and Porter are spending the night at
my house, we’ll do it tomorrow morning before we go horseback
riding. Want to come?”

“No,” Kanisha said. “Monday’s soon
enough.”

Olivia shot her a glare that promised
retribution later. “When and where?”

Oh, damn. Now, I was stuck with her. Even if
I didn’t like the way she played the ‘race card,’ I should have
expected her to step up since she had no give-up in her. I tore a
sheet of paper out of my binder and wrote down my address and
directions. “We have to be at the barn in time for Vicky’s
internship at eight, so we’re running at six.”

“In the morning?” Cedar whined. “That
sucks.”

“Then, don’t come,” I said.

“We’ll be there,” Olivia told me and walked
away, followed by the other two girls.

The final bell rang and Mr. Sutcliffe began
his countdown at the door. “You’ve got ten seconds, nine, eight,
five...”

“Hey, you skipped some numbers,” Steve griped
as he hustled through the door, followed by Vicky and Dani. “You
should start over.”

“Not happening.” Mr. Sutcliffe shut the door
and headed toward his desk to take attendance on the computer.
“Entry task is on the board. Let’s get started, folks. We have a
short period and a lot to cover today.”

Vicky plopped down in her chair next to me.
“Congratulations on P.R.ing yesterday. That’s terrific.”

“Yeah, right until we got home and Twaz
colicked again. Mom’s going to put a new bale of hay in his manger
before she leaves next Thursday for the meet.” I caught the glance
from Mr. Sutcliffe and hastily pulled out the composition book he
insisted we use as a math journal. Then, I worked the three
problems, finding solutions for each one.

History followed Algebra. We had our usual
Friday quiz. This one was all about early explorers in America. I
had to trust my memory, and it was shot since I’d barely had four
hours sleep the night before. My coffee was rapidly wearing off
when the bell rang and we headed for English. I so didn’t look
forward to listening to one of Mrs. Weaver’s lectures.

And of course, today she would decide to talk
about sentence structure and how to diagram each part—like I cared
what she wanted done with verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns, and
objects. I had a few suggestions. I felt my head droop and jerked
myself awake.

“Robin Gibson, would you repeat the
assignment for the class?” Mrs. Weaver asked, coming close to my
desk.

I squirmed and wished the chair would swallow
me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand it.”

Mrs. Weaver stared down her nose at me as if
I were a worm. “Would someone like to rescue Robin?”

Dani was the first to speak up. “We’re
supposed to write a paragraph of ten sentences, then diagram those
sentences. It’s due in twenty minutes, before the bell rings.” She
flashed a quick smile at me. “You should write about saving your
horse last night. Vet books always go on for pages about colic.
It’d be easy to come up with ten lines.”

I so owed her. I nodded and looked at the
teacher. “Yeah. I could do what she said.”

“All right.” Mrs. Weaver turned and headed
back for her desk. “You’d better get started. You only have
eighteen minutes until the bell.”

And she was such a clock-watcher, nobody
figured she’d give us an extra minute, much less accept any late
work. I opened my binder to a fresh sheet of paper, pulled out a
pen and wrote.
My horse almost died again last night...

Chapter Seventeen

Friday, September 20
^th
, 10:15 a.m.

I had first lunch, and wow, was I ready even
if there wasn’t any caffeine around. I got a sub sandwich, chips,
an apple and a bottle of water. I spotted Harry and headed over to
his table. I sat down across from him, struggling not to yawn.
“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good.” He grinned at me. “Heard you guys
won yesterday. Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Inside me the butterflies did a
little dance. He knew I was a runner and had paid attention to what
the team was doing. All right!

I fought to control another yawn as I opened
my chips. “Yeah, but things got exciting when we found a nest of
yellow jackets the hard way.”

“Tell me about it.” He reached down in his
backpack and pulled out a bottle of Mountain Dew, opening it for me
and handing it over. “Here have some caffeine first. I didn’t think
running wore you out that much.”

“It doesn’t.” I gratefully took a swallow. “I
was up all night with my horse. He colicked again.”

He looked interested, so between bites of my
sandwich and sips of the soda, I brought him up to speed on
Twaziem’s misadventures, the meet and the cop who planned to visit
every week. Harry told me all about how the football team was going
to win tonight and how my older brother was the best wide receiver
around. That wasn’t all bad. If Harry actually asked me out, Jack
wouldn’t freak, his usual response when one of his friends eyed
me.

Halfway through lunch, Vicky arrived. She
tossed back her hair and gave me a nasty look. “I knew you’d be
here telling Harry about your ugly horse.”

“What?” I almost choked on a chip. “Vick,
what’s wrong?”

“You think you’re so hot. You said you were
going to bring home the worst horse you could find, and you
certainly did. Now, you’re acting like some kind of hero.”

She stormed away before I could say anything.
For a moment, I wanted to cry. What was the matter with my best
friend? How could she betray me in front of Harry? This was awful.
Half the people in the lunchroom were staring at me. The rest were
looking after her. A cheerleader doing drama was always interesting
and fun to watch.

“I’ve got to go find out what her issue is,
Harry.” I stood and gathered up the remains of my lunch. “And yes,
I was mad when my family insisted on four hooves on the horse, not
four wheels, so I pitched a fit. I’m not perfect.”

“I never thought you were.” He leaned back in
his chair. “Is it okay if I say that I like you better as a human
being, or will you rip me a new one?”

I’d have to think about that. Meanwhile, I
tossed my garbage and went Vicky hunting. I didn’t actually expect
her to answer her cell because she was undoubtedly saving her
minutes. I was still surprised when she didn’t pick up. She was
nowhere to be found, not in the bathrooms or the counseling office
or the locker room, or the gym decorating for the pep assembly or
even with Mrs. Weaver. I tried calling again right before the
warning bell rang.

On the way to Science, I texted her. Then, I
put away my phone. I wouldn’t push my luck with Mr. Sutcliffe. He
might dress down in jeans and a Washington State University
sweatshirt on Fridays, but I didn’t want to lose my cell when he
followed the rule about no electronic devices in his classroom. I’d
catch up with Vicky at the assembly.

Only I couldn’t. She wasn’t there. Pity and
concern swamped me. She would be in so much trouble with her coach.
The cheerleaders always organized and put on the pep assemblies, so
for her to miss one when she wasn’t dead jeopardized Vicky’s
standing with the Varsity squad. We were dismissed to go to the
buses at the end of the assembly, but I didn’t. I went to Ms.
Walker instead. I had to wait until she arranged for the
cheerleaders to clean up the gym.

“Ms. Walker, do you know where Vicky is? I’m
really worried about her.”

“Me, too.” Ms. Walker patted my shoulder.
“All I can tell you is that I got a message from the office saying
she had to leave early. She isn’t sick, is she?”

I shook my head. “No, but one of her parents
probably pulled her out to babysit the kids.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Ms. Walker kept
her hand on my shoulder and urged me toward the door. “Robin, she
has to be at the game tonight or I’ll have to suspend her from
Varsity for a week. The squad has been great about covering for
her, but our routines are set up for nine cheerleaders and without
her—”

“I’ll get her there if I have to babysit for
her,” I said.

Outside, I grabbed my phone and checked
messages. There actually was one from Vicky begging off from the
sleepover. She’d catch up with me later. Well, this was total crap,
I thought. What was she going to do about her internship? Cancel on
that too? Then, she’d be in trouble for bailing on Rocky, fail
three classes and be stuck in Podunk, USA, forever.

I called Dad’s office and told the secretary
to tell him I was taking the bus. I had things to do at home before
my sleepover and Jack’s football game. Meantime, I called Vicky. Of
course, she still didn’t answer. She was into avoidance or else the
kids had her jumping through hoops. Well, two could play this game.
I left her a message that I’d be there to babysit the brats at
five. Jack would drop me off and take her to the school, so she’d
better have her cheer act together. Oh, and the next time she
fouled things up with Harry, I’d pull each and every strand of
golden brown hair out of her head.

So, I’m not perfect. Sue me!

On the way home, I contacted Porter and Gwen.
I brought them up to speed on the Vicky drama. They promised to
show up at my house and do chores with my mom. Like Porter said,
even with all our critters, we didn’t have anything compared to
Shamrock Stables. Last summer, there were forty stalls to clean
every day. Porter told me they’d go to the game with my folks, and
we’d meet up there.

Then, we could get my dad to stop for pizza
and junk food on the way home. And I didn’t know how I’d manage to
get Vicky to the sleepover, but I was majorly sick of her parents
dumping on her. Hello, she had brothers and sisters, not her own
kids, not yet. If the crap-fest didn’t stop soon, I’d bet Vicky
would never get married, much less have a family of her own. If I
had to contend with everything she did, I sure wouldn’t.

* * * *

Friday, September
20
^th
, 10:25 p.m.