The A Circuit 04- Rein It In
To Henry.
Thank you for letting me accomplish more than I ever dared to dream of
—G. B.
Contents
Also by Georgina Bloomberg & Catherine Hapka
Zara woke with a start when the bell rang, signaling the end of her US History class. The geeky guy who sat across the aisle was just closing his notebook.
“Hey, uh …” Zara fished for his name. She was pretty sure he’d introduced himself on the first day of school, but that was weeks ago, and they’d barely spoken since. “Um, dude. Homework?”
“Read chapters seven and eight, answer the discussion questions at the end of each chapter,” the guy said without looking at her.
“Thanks.” Zara sighed, shooting the teacher an irritated look. So far Drummond was okay as schools went. Cool old building, decent food in the cafeteria, enough weirdos among the student body to keep things interesting. The downside? Way too much homework.
Zara stuffed her history book in her leather tote and slung the bag over her shoulder. Yawning, she headed for the door.
The halls were pandemonium. A pair of matching blond
girls emerged from the classroom across the way and zeroed in on Zara. She was pretty sure they were juniors, since they were both in her English class.
“Hi, Zara,” the perkier of the two said. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going.” Zara forced a smile. “You know, whatever.”
Zara didn’t even try to remember their names. She didn’t need to—she knew their type. On Zara’s first day, when they’d thought she was just another new girl, they totally ignored her. As soon as they’d found out who her parents were, that had changed. Even here, where most of the students came from serious Manhattan money, a rock star’s kid was still at least a little bit of a novelty. Or maybe it was the movie star mom that had impressed them—now that she thought about it, Zara vaguely recalled one of the girls saying something about wanting to be an actress. Either way, Zara was over it.
Spotting a familiar face over near the stairwell, Zara spit out a quick “Gotta go” and took off. “Tommi!” she called. “Hey, wait up.”
Tommi glanced back and smiled. Zara had to admit it had been nice having a friend at Drummond from the start. She wasn’t the shy type—far from it—but starting a new school wasn’t her favorite thing in the world.
Not that she would have guessed a few months ago that she and Tommi Aaronson would ever be friends. The two of them hadn’t exactly hit it off when they’d first met at the stable where they both kept their horses. But eventually the two of them had found common ground—not only in riding, but also in coming from families where the judges at the shows weren’t the only ones analyzing your every move. Zara still wasn’t sure exactly what Tommi’s father did—something
Wall-Streety—but she and everyone else in New York knew that Richard Aaronson’s net worth was about the same as that of a small European nation. That made people jump to a lot of conclusions about what Tommi was like, and Zara definitely knew how that felt. Half the pictures in her baby album were clipped out of the tabloids.
It wasn’t until Zara got closer that she noticed Tommi was walking with a couple of her senior friends. Crap. That kid everyone called Duckface seemed okay, but Court had been on Zara’s nerves since the day they’d met. The girl was seriously overcaffeinated. Zara had no clue what Tommi saw in her.
“What’s up?” Tommi asked when Zara reached them.
“Not much.” Zara tossed a vague wave in the direction of Tommi’s friends. “You get that text from Joy this morning?”
Tommi nodded, hoisting her hobo bag higher on her shoulder. “Group lesson this afternoon. Last one before the horses leave for the show. Jamie expects everyone to be there, no exceptions. Need a ride?”
“Sure, thanks.”
“Ugh.” Duckface rolled his eyes dramatically at Court. “They’re talking horses. Come on, babycakes, let’s get out of here before they start comparing their ponies’ poop again.”
Tommi grinned. “Hey, we only did that once.”
“Yeah, but it was at
lunch
.” Court grabbed Duckface by the arm. “Later, Tommi. Bye, Zara.”
“See you.” Zara was glad to see them go. She fell into step beside Tommi. “You must be psyched to leave for the show. Congrats again on qualifying for, like, everything at Indoors.”
Tommi shrugged. “What can I say? I’m lucky to have talented horses. And even luckier that all of them stayed sound
all season.” She knocked lightly on the wooden banister of the stairwell.
She was playing modest, but Zara knew better. Most people at Drummond probably had no clue what a big deal it was to compete at the series of superprestigious fall horse shows collectively known on the A circuit as Indoors, due to their locations in indoor arenas. But Zara knew. She also knew it took more than luck to qualify with multiple horses in multiple divisions like Tommi had done. Again, most of Zara and Tommi’s schoolmates probably couldn’t differentiate among hunters, jumpers, and equitation if their lives depended on it. To them, it was all just horses jumping over stuff. But the three divisions required different skills. It took a lot of hard work to master even one, let alone all three. Zara knew that from experience.
“I think Jamie’s pissed that Ellie and I didn’t qualify for as much as he hoped we would,” she said. “He probably regrets selling a superstar mare like that to a spaz like me.”
She was only half kidding. Their trainer, Jamie Vos, was definitely a perfectionist. Zara? Not so much.
Tommi shot her a look. “Doubtful. Jamie doesn’t believe in regrets. Besides, he knows you two are still getting to know each other. And you qualified for the Small Juniors at Harrisburg, right?”
“Barely. But hey, at least Ellie and I will get to show our stuff at Capital Challenge next week, too. Hooray for not needing to qualify to go to that one, right?” Zara picked at a cuticle as she walked. “Plus Keeper and I qualified for some jumper stuff, so …”
She let her voice trail off as she noticed a tiny redhead
careening toward them. “Zara, I just heard!” the girl said breathlessly, skidding to a stop right in front of Zara and peering into her face. “Is it true?”
Zara took a step back. “Is what true?”
The girl didn’t seem to hear the question. “You must be devastated,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe—”
“Girls!” a sharp voice interrupted. “Shouldn’t you all be on your way to class right now?”
Zara didn’t have to turn around to recognize that voice. It belonged to her algebra teacher, Ms. Rivera. Better known to most of the student body as the Dragon Lady of Drummond.
The redhead let out a squeak and scooted away, with a whispered “Bye, Zara!”
“We’re going, too, Ms. Rivera,” Tommi said. “Sorry.”
Zara followed as Tommi hurried up the stairs. “Who was that girl?” Zara asked.
“She’s a sophomore,” Tommi said. “Her name’s Becky, I think. What was she talking about?”
“Got me.” Zara glanced over her shoulder, even though the younger girl was long gone. “Probably the latest not-so-hot gossip from our not-so-favorite blog.”
Tommi shrugged. “Probably. I can’t believe nobody’s figured out who’s writing that thing yet.”
“Preach it.” Zara grimaced as she thought about the blog, HorseShowSecrets. It had appeared out of nowhere late that summer, featuring gossip about riders at all the top East Coast barns, including Jamie’s. Zara was used to ignoring her own press, but this was different. Whoever was writing the blog was obviously an A circuit insider, which somehow seemed worse than just another story by some lame-ass Hollywood stringer.
Pulling her smartphone out of her bag, Zara started typing in the address as she walked. Okay, so she hated to encourage the stupid blog by giving it more hits. But that sophomore had been worked up enough to make Zara think she’d better find out what the blogger was saying this time.
“Heads up,” Tommi hissed.
Too late. Zara looked up to see her Spanish teacher, Mr. Wallace, striding toward her.
“What’s the emergency, Senorita Trask?” he boomed out in his loud voice. “Feel a heart attack coming on? Hair on fire? What? Because I
know
you’re aware of the school rules regarding cell phones.”
“Um, do bad cramps count as an emergency?” Zara smiled weakly.
The teacher held out his hand. Zara sighed, clicked off the power on her phone, and handed it over.
“You can pick this up at the office after the final bell.” Mr. Wallace nodded at her, then glanced at Tommi. “Now get to class before I have to give you both a demerit.”
As the teacher strode off, Tommi shot Zara a sympathetic look. “I can’t even count how many times I’ve had my phone confiscated.”
“Yeah,” Zara muttered. “This place needs to move out of the eighteenth century and realize we need our phones.”
They’d reached Zara’s next class by then, and Tommi paused outside the door. “Guess you’ll have to wait to find out the latest.”
“I won’t hold my breath.” Zara rolled her eyes. “Probably just another snotty thing about how I didn’t manage to qualify the fanciest hunter on the planet for anything.”
Tommi smiled. “Meet you at out front after school?”
“I’ll be there.”
Kate stuffed her books into her well-worn backpack as slowly as she could, keeping one eye on her chemistry teacher. The bell had just rung to release the class to lunch, and most of the other students weren’t wasting any time stampeding out of the room. But Kate wasn’t thinking about lunch. She needed to talk to Mr. Barron, and that was enough to make anyone feel queasy.
The teacher was talking to one of Kate’s classmates, his brows drawn together in a frown that made him look even sterner than usual. Kate picked up her backpack and took a few tentative steps toward the front of the room.
“Look out!”
“Oof.” Kate lurched forward as she felt a sharp elbow connect squarely with her lower back. As she grabbed at the nearest chair to stop herself from falling, she lost her grip on her backpack. It went flying, bouncing off the edge of a desk and spilling books, papers, and pens everywhere.
Her face flaming, Kate immediately bent and started gathering up her stuff. She didn’t have to hear the familiar snicker to know that the collision had been no accident.