Wild Horse (12 page)

Stevie sat back and looked up at Veronica. “The caterer?” she said.

“Well, what did you think—that I was going to make the food myself?” Veronica asked, smirking. “Very funny. I’ve ordered sushi …”

Stevie took a deep breath, said nothing, and went back to coloring in her
SOCK
HOP
sign.
Five more hours
, she told herself.
I only have to get through five more hours with her.
It was almost three now, and the dance would start at eight.

On the brighter side, the dance committee was in pretty good shape. The gym was almost fully decorated, the stereo system was set up, kids had brought in CDs and tapes, and the parent chaperones were due to show up at seven. People at school had been talking about the dance all week, and the boys had called off their boycott.

“You know, these decorations are pretty sad,” Veronica commented, looking around. “Ashley will probably think they’re very public school.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. That was about the millionth
time Veronica had mentioned her friend Ashley Briggs’s visit. Stevie was beginning to feel nauseated every time she heard the name.

“I mean, couldn’t you have come up with something more professional than that pretend jukebox and those silly cutouts of forty-five records?” Veronica asked.

“Sorry about that,” Stevie said. “I tried to have some floats flown in from Paris, but they haven’t arrived yet.”

“Ha, ha,” Veronica said, and sneered. Then she continued, in a sincere instead of sarcastic tone, “Oh well—even if the decorations are tacky, at least the crowd will be strictly private school.”

That did it. Stevie capped her marker, stood up, and stormed out of the gym. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew she had to get away from Veronica. If she stayed there any longer, she’d probably do something she would later regret. Striding angrily down the hall, Stevie passed Miss Fenton’s office. A few paces later, she stopped short and retraced her steps. “I’ve got it!” she murmured.

Ignoring the protests of Miss Fenton’s secretary, Stevie rapped on the headmistress’s door and marched into her office.

“Yes, Stephanie?” Miss Fenton said in a surprised voice.

“Miss Fenton, remember how you said you trusted me
to put some life into this back-to-school dance?” Stevie asked.

“Yes, I remember,” Miss Fenton said, raising one eyebrow. “And?”

“Veronica is bringing her friend Ashley, and that gave me an idea. I know it’s late, but if I called some people and the dance committee called some people, and
they
all called some people—”

“Yes, yes.”

“—we could all invite a few friends of ours who don’t go to Fenton Hall. That would really make for a great dance. Lots of new, interesting faces. And you wouldn’t want Fenton Hall to be known as a snobby school, would you?”

“Certainly not. We—”

“Then say yes! Please say yes! I’ve got a bunch of friends who would love to come, but I couldn’t ask them because the dances are always for Fenton students only.”

Miss Fenton pursed her lips and looked hard at Stevie. “All right. You’ve got it. It’s a very democratic suggestion. Now, I won’t make it a precedent, but I’ll say yes for this one time, and we’ll see how it goes. Now make sure …”

Stevie didn’t hear the rest. She hugged her headmistress and went skipping down the hall yelling, “Extra!
Extra! Outside students invited to Fenton Hall dance!”

Miss Fenton sighed. “Make sure you get more chaperones,” she called after Stevie.

S
TEVIE
HAD
NEVER
seen the gym so crammed with people. She couldn’t keep track of anyone—not Lisa or Carole or Phil or A.J. or Chad or Alex or her parents, who’d been pressed into chaperone service at the last minute. Everybody was wearing socks without shoes and dancing up a storm in the middle of the basketball court. On the sidelines lay hundreds of pairs of shoes.

“Stevie, you’re incredible!” Lisa said, coming up with Carole to give her friend a hug. “It’s packed!”

“I know. And I hope it stays that way,” Stevie said. “The more people, the less chance there is of my having to see any members of my immediate family.”

Carole cringed. “I know how you feel. Remember when my dad got a little overly involved at Pine Hollow?” she asked.

Stevie and Lisa nodded. Colonel Hanson had tried to help out, but he’d mostly gotten in the way. “Luckily, my parents seem to be blending into the crowd,” Stevie said, craning her neck to look.

“The theme was a great idea,” Lisa said. “Usually nobody dances. But they seem to like the oldies.”

“They’ve got good taste,” Stevie said.

The girls laughed. Stevie was known for loving all things from the fifties—records, movies, even clothes.

“What I don’t get is how you talked Veronica into it,” Lisa said.

“Oh, it was easy. She loved having an excuse to run out and buy a whole new fifties costume. Plus she thought it would be a big flop, and then she could tell everyone it was all my idea.” Stevie grinned. “Instead it’s a huge success, and it was all my idea,” she said.

“Did I hear my name? Honestly, you must lead boring lives to always be talking about me,” an all-too-familiar voice said.

Stevie, Lisa, and Carole spun around. Veronica was standing there with Ashley Briggs. Both of them were wearing elaborate store-bought costumes—unlike Stevie, Lisa, and Carole, who had gotten together an hour before the dance and thrown on whatever they could find in the Lakes’ attic and Stevie’s closet.

“Ashley, meet Stevie and Carole. I think you already know Lisa,” Veronica said.

Ashley wrinkled her nose in Lisa’s direction. “Do I? Oh yes. You’re the girl who wanted to go to Wentworth. I’m sorry you didn’t get in, but I’m sure you realize how competitive it is.”

“Veronica,” Stevie said sharply. “Is this a rumor you started?”

“Rumor?” Veronica said, playing dumb. “Yes, now that you mention it, I do recall hearing a rumor about Lisa’s applying to Wentworth.”

Stevie opened her mouth to protest, but Lisa stopped her. She smiled at Veronica and Ashley. “I’m sorry, too, Ashley,” she said sweetly. “It would have been great to be a Wentworth girl. But, you know, I guess I just didn’t have the grades.”

Flustered, Veronica tried to steer Ashley away. Right then a few of the Fenton boys surrounded them. “Great dance, Stevie,” one of them said.

“Yeah, especially the idea to invite outside friends,” another said, with an admiring glance at Carole and Lisa.

The third one chimed in, “Everything’s cool except for the food. The food is weird. No one can figure out what it is. But basically, everything’s cool. And I heard you did it all by yourself.”

Stevie grinned triumphantly. “That must be a rumor going around,” she said.

S
TEVIE
, L
ISA
,
AND
C
AROLE
sat around the Atwoods’ kitchen until they were almost falling asleep at the table. They drank tea with Mrs. Atwood; they ate cookies with Mr. Atwood. They didn’t want to go to bed. They wanted to keep rehashing the dance. But finally they crawled up the stairs to Lisa’s bedroom.

“Lisa, I still can’t believe you let Ashley Briggs think you didn’t get in to Wentworth,” Carole said. She pushed a few stuffed animals off Lisa’s four-poster bed and flopped down on it.

“It’s funnier that way,” Lisa said, following suit. “Besides,
those girls are so stuck on themselves, they’d never believe
I
turned Wentworth down.”

“
I
still can’t believe Chad danced the last slow dance with Ashley Briggs,” Stevie moaned, staking out space on the floor. “Of course I couldn’t say anything to him. That would only make him like her more.”

“It’s hard when your family’s involved, isn’t it?” Carole said, glancing at Lisa.

“There are certain things you just can’t say,” Stevie agreed.

“Or at least,” Lisa said, smiling, “you think you can’t say them.”

“So, are you glad that you spoke to your mother about Wentworth?” Carole said. Lisa had filled them in briefly on the conversation she’d had with her mother.

“I sure am,” Lisa said. Then she chuckled. “I just feel bad that you had to put up with Veronica, when I should have listened to you in the first place, Stevie. I should have told my mother how I felt.”

“I’ll always have to put up with Veronica,” Stevie responded. “The important thing is that you’re staying in Willow Creek, and the dance was a success.”

“I wish you two could have been at the salon when Mrs. diAngelo started in about Wentworth,” Lisa said, laughing as she remembered the scene.

“So she was good, huh?” Carole asked.

“Good?” Lisa said. “She was brilliant. She gave an award-winning performance.”

“Is it true that nobody is allowed to mention Wentworth in her presence?” Carole asked.

Stevie nodded. “Ashley Briggs told Chad that she can’t even say the name while she’s staying at Veronica’s house, or Mrs. diAngelo goes crazy.”

“Veronica, on the other hand, goes crazy when she hears the word
work
,” Carole said.

“Now, now,” Lisa said reprovingly. “As my mother said, we have a lot to thank the diAngelos for.”

As Stevie and Carole went on chatting about the dance, Lisa thought back on what she’d learned in the past couple of weeks. She knew that she would never be the kind of person who told her mother everything. And she knew that it wasn’t in her personality to fight with her parents. But she also knew that when it came to a subject like boarding school, she wouldn’t just go along with everything, hiding her true feelings. When it came to the really important things, she would try to speak her mind.

Right now all her mind was telling her was to go to sleep. In her own bed. Where she would be sleeping for the next several years. As a day student at Willow Creek
public schools. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me out of bed tomorrow morning,” she said, yawning loudly.

“But we’ve got a Horse Wise meeting,” Carole pointed out. “We’ve got to have Starlight, Prancer, and Belle ready bright and early.”

Stevie was tired. She was very tired. She was downright exhausted. But she couldn’t resist a joke when she saw one. “Lisa said wild horses couldn’t drag her out of bed, Carole.” Stevie paused for a second before the punch line. “She didn’t say anything about
tame
horses.”

B
ONNIE
B
RYANT
is the author of many books for young readers, including novelizations of movie hits such as
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
and
Honey, I Blew Up the Kid
, written under her married name, B. B. Hiller.

Ms. Bryant began writing The Saddle Club in 1986. Although she had done some riding before that, she intensified her studies then and found herself learning right along with her characters Stevie, Carole, and Lisa. She claims that they are all much better riders than she is.

Ms. Bryant was born and raised in New York City. She still lives there, in Greenwich Village, with her two sons.

Don’t miss Bonnie Bryant’s next exciting Saddle Club adventure …

PHANTOM HORSE

The Saddle Club #59

Ever since strange Troy became a stable hand at Pine Hollow, Carole’s been creeped out. His scary story about a phantom horse has made her wonder about Starlight. Could her beloved horse really be possessed by an evil spirit that appears once every thirteen years? He’s been acting so strange. Soon Carole’s dreams are filled with images of a red-eyed Starlight, snorting, rearing, pawing, and ready to turn on his owner!