Read Nothing But Horses Online

Authors: Shannon Kennedy

Tags: #coming of age, #horses, #barn, #growing up, #teenage girl, #stupid people, #intolerant, #riding stable, #old habits, #wannabe cowboy

Nothing But Horses (26 page)

BOOK: Nothing But Horses
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“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Olivia said.
“It looks like you’re just standing here, flapping your gums.”

A petite, curvaceous blonde in a Pine Ridge
cheer outfit ran up flashing the “rah, rah” smile all cheerleaders
honed. She handed off a ball to Aspen. “Okay, you have ten minutes
before the janitors arrive. Make them count.”

“I will.” Aspen glanced at me. “Scared?”

“Of what?” I gave my sports bag to Olivia.
“You? Not hardly. Half court?”

“Definitely.” She tossed me the ball.

I caught it and started back into the gym.
When Aspen didn’t follow, I turned and looked at her. “What’s
happening? Are we playing or not?”

“I’m not. You are and so is my cousin.” She
pointed to a tall, dark-haired buff guy standing by the basket.
“Did I forget to mention that? Now, are you scared?”

I laughed. “You’re joking, right? I said,
“Bring it” and I meant it. If he’s the best you can do, I’m good
with it.”

Olivia looked past us and winced. “Sierra,
that’s Logan Watson, the point guard for the Crusaders. The guy is
lethal. Let’s go.”

“I’m cool.” I headed toward the key,
dribbling the ball on the way. One of these times, I was going to
have to ask Olivia how she knew so much about Centennial Mid-High,
but not right now. I measured the big guy waiting for me. A couple
inches over six foot and he wasn’t dressed for this in jeans and a
Crusader sweatshirt.

I dribbled up to the three point line. He
turned, crouched slightly in a defensive position. “Hi.” I flashed
him a big smile. “I’m Sierra. How did Aspen talk you into
this?”

“Is that important?”

“No. I’m just curious.” I acted like I was
going to the right. He blocked. I feinted left and shot from just
past the three point line. Long dunk and score! Since it was only
us, I was up by two. I slammed the ball toward him.

Logan caught it easily. He dribbled, bouncing
the ball like it was nothing. Like I was nothing, no competition
for him. I slipped in and stole the ball. All my practices with
Dave paid off tonight. While this guy gaped at me for an instant, I
went in for another lay-up. Four points. A couple of the Centennial
girls applauded and I mimed a bow, playing to the audience.

“Logan, quit fooling around,” Aspen called.
“Just get her.”

“He can try,” I smiled sweetly, tossing the
ball to him, “but if he’s the best your school has to offer, we
have nothing to worry about next week.”

That earned me a fierce glare. He came toward
me and just to be obnoxious, I backed a step, did a dummy defense
and made a big show of letting him score. My turn for the ball. I
dribbled. He tried to block me. I twisted like Dave taught me and
whirled to face the basket. Logan was fast. When he threw up his
hands to grab the ball, he bumped my shoulder.

“Foul.” Aspen scowled at her cousin. “Take
your shot, Sierra.”

“No. He didn’t mean it.” I glanced at the
clock, started to walk away. “And I have to go. See you at puppy
class. Saturday morning in Lake Windermere Park, right?

“Take it,” Logan said, a deep bass rumble. “I
would.”

“Okay. You want it. You got it.” I was inside
the three point line, at the back of the free throw line. I went
up, pitched the ball perfectly into the net. “Now, I really have to
go.”

Olivia and I headed out the back door and
around to the parking lot where the bus waited to take us back to
Marysville. I’d thought we’d be the last ones to arrive and we’d
hear about it from Coach Norris. I was wrong. Jack and Bill jogged
up behind us.

I flicked a glance at them. “What were you
two doing?”

“Watching your little adventure,” Jack said.
“We’re going to the Centennial games tomorrow night. Want to come
see them play for a change?”

“You know it,” Olivia said. “Let’s see if we
can psych them out.”

“They play fair,” I said. “That’s major.”

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Four

 

Shamrock Stable, Washington

Friday, January
31
st
, 6:40 am

 

Mom turned from the coffee-pot when I hurried
into the kitchen with my backpack and sports bag. “Do you want
oatmeal?”

“No. I’m running late.” I’d barely had time
to dry my hair so I braided it while it was still damp. I didn’t
have a chance to stress about clothes so I opted for clean blue
jeans and a green Shamrock Stable sweatshirt fresh from the dryer.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll grab something at school.”

“That will cost money.” Mom went to the
cupboard, pulled out the cardboard container of cereal and scooped
a serving into a plastic sandwich bag. “Now eat this when you get
there.”

“Okay.” I put the little packet in the
outside pocket of my backpack and headed to the fridge to grab the
lunch I’d packed the night before. “I’ll be home in time for
chores.”

“After practice, right?” She followed me
toward the front door.

“No. After the girls’ team play up at
Centennial Mid-High. A bunch of us are going to scope out their
strategy. They’ve been doing it to us for weeks. It’s our turn to
do it to them.” I glanced in the living room where Autumn and the
dogs watched cartoons while she ate her cereal. “See you after
school, sweetie. Good luck on your spelling test.”

“I got that. Dave helped me with my words.”
Autumn returned to laughing at the dancing ponies on the screen.
“Luck on your basketball practice.”

I bent to hug Charlie and got a puppy kiss
that left oatmeal on my cheek. Now, I knew why he and Queenie hung
with my little sister. They obviously got bites of something
tastier than kibble. “Bye, puppy. Be a good boy.”

“He always is,” Mom said. “Don’t worry about
chores tonight. You deserve a treat. Have fun with your
friends.”

I wiped my face quick before she saw the
evidence of what Autumn really did with her breakfast. “Why do I
deserve a treat?”

“Don’t you think I see how hard you’re
working on your people skills?” Mom tiptoed up to kiss my cheek.
“All I’m hearing are compliments about you this month, Sierra. Your
coach told me last night that you inspire the rest of your team.
Now, have a great day.”

She turned and went into the living room,
telling Autumn if she gave the dogs any more oatmeal, she’d have
another bowl. I was out the front door before I laughed.

My day continued to shine. Robin had
celebratory espressos waiting when I got to the Commons at Lincoln
High. She mocked me about the oatmeal, but when I told her that oat
hay gave No, No Veda energy and my breakfast lasted for hours, she
said she might try it.

“My mom thinks I’m becoming more patient and
tolerant of stupid people,” I said. “Have you ever heard such
garbage?”

“She could be right.” I must have looked like
she was messing with me, because Robin held up her hand. “Think
about it, Sierra. Last Saturday morning when Eddie screwed up his
blankets, you just told him to take them off and try again. You
didn’t heave a huge sigh, do your martyr routine and go saddle
Houston for the kid.”

“I didn’t have time,” I said. “I had to get
all the horses put together before I left for Community
Theater.”

“Exactly and how about that?” Robin stirred
her mocha with the straws. “You spoke up and suggested Mr. Haller
choose the best singer for the lead in the spring musical. You got
other students to go along with the idea. It was the production
first, not you. Coach Norris would say that you showed there isn’t
an “i” in team.”

“It’s theater, not basketball.”

“It’s the same thing.” Impatience slid into
Robin’s face. “Open your eyes, Sierra. They teach us about life
here. It doesn’t matter what the teachers use. It can be English or
Social Studies or basketball or drama or cheerleading. I’ll bet
when Weaver gives us a group project this semester, you’ll handle
it differently than you would at Mount Pilchuck.”

“Well, sure. You guys would do your share and
I wouldn’t get stuck doing everything.”

“You would expect us to do our share and we’d
step up. You wouldn’t do it all and then let us share in the
credit.”

I froze in my chair. My brain felt like it
whirled around, a pony on an old-time carousel. “Oh, wow. That’s
what the judge meant.”

“What judge?” Dani arrived in time to hear my
comment. “Are you showing Nevada somewhere this weekend? Do you
have to remember the last time you were in the ring?”

“No, at Rocky’s last divorce hearing, the
judge said that doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting
different results each time was the definition of insanity. It’s
why my mom ended up in counseling. I really have been doing it
too.”

“You think?” Dani reached out and took the
cup Robin offered. “Why would you do something different? Louise
says our parents are the first teachers we have. They model the
behaviors they want us to have even when they don’t realize
it.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get it before.” I drank
my coffee. “I’ve got to pay more attention to what’s happening
around me.”

“You and the rest of the population on this
planet.” Robin handed over Vicky’s latte as she joined us. “So, are
you in Saturday school for planting one on my brother in front of
the entire student body last night?”

“Ms. Walker chewed my ears all the way back
to Lincoln. Talk about a majorly bad road trip.” Vicky sat down,
peeling off the lid. “I promised it wouldn’t happen again, that I’d
been overcome by the excitement of such a tight victory. And she
said she wouldn’t write me up.”


How many
ma’ams
did you use?”
Dani asked.

“None.” Vicky shuddered at the notion, then
went back to chugging her peppermint latte. “She would have totally
freaked. She and Brianna were in Afghanistan together. You have to
know who to use
last word
on and who hates it. Those words
have incredible power. It majorly works on my mother. I’m cleared
to go to Centennial this afternoon.”

“She’s right,” I said. “Jack’s coach has
issues with
sir
too, but Norris doesn’t.”

The first bell rang. We drained our coffees,
gathered up our stuff and headed for the English wing before Dr.
Danvers rousted us.

* * * *

At practice that afternoon, I walked up to
Coach Norris before I changed to my practice jersey and shorts.
“Can we end early today?”

“Why? Do you have a sick horse at home?”

“No. My mom hasn’t called, or texted so
everything is fine in the barns.” I glanced over my shoulder as
Olivia came toward us. “A bunch of us want to go up to Centennial
Mid-High and watch their teams play ball this afternoon.”

“Interesting idea.” Coach Norris didn’t walk
off toward the equipment closet. Instead, he blew his whistle and
waved at Patricia and Willow who had just entered the gym. “Go get
the whole squad. Tell them to hold off on getting ready for
practice. I want to talk to all of you.”

While the rest of us gathered around him,
Cedar gave me a long dark-eyed look. “What’s up?”

“We want to go harass the Crusaders and check
out their strengths and weaknesses for next Thursday,” I said.
“They’ve been doing it to us and we want to turn it around on
them.”

“Succinct explanation, Sierra,” Coach said.
“Now, how many of you plan to go?”

“We all want to,” Neva said. “We just don’t
want to blow practice.”

“Here’s the deal,” Coach told us. “If you go
to Lake Windemere and watch their squad, we’ll cancel practice for
today. It means we’ll know what to work on next week. We’ll do it.
And everybody tries their hardest then. No excuses. No slacking. Is
it a go?”

A few cheers later, we’d agreed. Didi pulled
out her phone to check with her mom and Kanisha cleared it with her
dad. Then, the ten of us headed for the parking lot. We had enough
cars between us to drive to the other school. Coach Norris had made
us promise to buckle up, follow all the speed limits and take our
time driving there so we arrived safely. This team was majorly
turning around and I loved it.

When we walked into the gym, warm-ups had
already started. Since we didn’t wear uniforms at Lincoln, nobody
called us on being from our school. I eyed the other team shooting
baskets. It was Mount Pilchuck. I glanced at Olivia. “Okay, I’m
sitting on the Crusader side. No way am I rooting for M.P. How
about the rest of you?”

“You have me.” Olivia strolled beside me
toward the grandstand. “Everybody else can make up their own
minds.”

“Works for me.” I waved to Aspen. She shot a
beautiful three-pointer, and then passed to a tall, dark-haired,
Native girl in a white and red Crusader jersey. “So, who is that?
You know everyone at this school, don’t you?”

“Not all of them. That’s my cousin, Phoenix.
She keeps me posted on most of the Centennial gossip.”

“I’m glad to know that. I wondered how you
got the inside track.” I smiled at Aspen when she jogged over to
us. “It’s our turn to check out your team. Good luck.”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, of course,” I said. “We don’t like
M.P. more than we don’t like you.”

Aspen laughed, shook her head, the long red
braid bouncing. “You are a crazy girl. I bet we’re friends after
basketball season.”

“Why not?” I shrugged. “My puppy thinks you
rock. I trust his judgment.”

“Okay, then.” She held up her hand and we
high-fived. Then, she turned and ran back to her team.

* * * *

Olivia, Cedar, Kanisha and I talked
strategies for next week’s game while I drove them home to the
reservation on the west side of Marysville. Afterwards, I headed
for the Burger Palace. Tom always worked Friday nights. He’d told
me it was when he made his best tips. The restaurant was still
busy, but I only had to wait a few minutes to be seated in his
section. He brought me water and a menu.

BOOK: Nothing But Horses
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ads

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