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A Horse to Love Page 7
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“Nope. Never heard of them. Is it real y that bad?”
“It has one good thing, and only one,” Skye said, raising her index finger. “They have horses and I’m learning to ride. That’s the only good part, believe me.”
“Horses?” Robin exclaimed. “Sweet! I’ve always wanted to ride horses but never had the chance. So now you’re a dude-ette. You go, girl!” Skye’s face shriveled. “Dude-ette?”
“Yeah, you know. They cal cowboys ‘dudes.’ Wel , you’re a girl, so you’re a dude-ette.”
“Not cool,” Skye said, throwing her gym bag into the locker. Her voice grew serious. “Hey, have you seen Sooze and Kenny?”
“No, I don’t see them much,” Robin answered, her tone quickly changing. “You know we don’t have any classes together.”
Robin was stil talking, but Skye was too busy searching the faces in the hal way to listen.
“Skye!”
“Huh?”
“Softbal practice started last week. The team’s looking for a manager. Do you want to do it? It’s after school every day until five.”
“Can’t,” Skye said as her attention shifted back to Robin. “I have counseling at Maranatha.”
“What’s Maranatha?”
“It’s a place over on Fifth and Broad that tortures kids like me. I have to go there every weekday for at least a year. They’re trying to help me,” she said sarcastical y as she grabbed a book from her locker.
“Oh,” Robin said.
“Gotta go. I have to report to Bubba. I mean Mr.
Bubbosco.” Skye glanced at her watch as she walked away. “If you see Sooze and Kenny, tel them where I am. Okay?”
“Probably won’t see them. Our rotation is completely different,” Robin said as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. “See you later in gym class.”
Skye slipped into the principal’s office and sheepishly approached the high counter that kept kids separated from the staff. To her right, four students slouched in chairs lined up against the wal , each face reflecting the thought, Get me out of here!
Skye scanned them, hoping in vain that one would be familiar. No such luck.
As she waited impatiently for the secretary, Skye planned her new strategy, one that would keep Bubba off her back — at least for a few days.
“Good morning, Miss Nicholson,” the secretary bubbled as she approached the counter. “We haven’t seen you for a while. Been watching your step, I guess.”
Skye gave her a sheepish grin.
“Now you don’t need to tel me why you’re here,” the secretary continued. “You are top priority. Go right in.” Poking the button on an intercom, she gestured to a door that was slightly ajar. “Skye Nicholson is here.”
As Skye slipped inside the principal’s office, she set her latest plan into motion. C’mon tears. Work for me.
“Have a seat, Miss Nicholson,” Mr. Bubbosco said from behind his humongous fancy desk. He was not smiling.
Skye slid onto one of three chairs lined up in front of the cherry wood fortress. Unsure of her archenemy’s mood, she studied the principal’s gray eyes which glared back, his thin frame and balding head, and reading specs riveted to the end of his nose. She waited, wondering what he possibly could say to make her feel any worse.
Mr. Bubbosco, fifty-something going on eighty, was enemy to al students and friend to none. Skye could tel he thoroughly hated his job, but retirement was just around the corner. Hotshot Bubbosco, better known as “Bubba”behind his back, had seen his better days. Ignoring stacks of folders on his desk, he leaned back in his plush swivel chair and folded his hands behind his frayed hair.
“Miss Nicholson,” Mr. Bubbosco began, “you know you are here by pure luck. If it weren’t for the Chambers, you’d be serving time at Chesterfield.
Frankly, I don’t know how many more chances this administration can give you. It depends completely on your attitude. Do you have anything to say?” Skye paused long enough to portray deep thought .
Here we go , she schemed as she crafted an innocent smile.“Mr. Bubbosco, I’m real y gonna try my best this time.Honest. I don’t wanna get kicked out of here.”
“I hope you’re leveling with me,” the principal said as though he real y wanted it to be true but knew it wasn’t. “I know the Chambers wil do al they can to help, but you’ve got to want it yourself. If you don’t straighten up you’l wind up behind bars, so you better get with the program!”
Skye’s eyes turned moist. “I — I’m real y sorry,” she said, lying. “I promise I’l stay outta trouble. I’l . .
.”
“Fine and dandy,” the principal said, cutting her off.“I’l be watching you. Now get back to class and stay out of trouble.” He launched himself forward, his hands shooing her out as his face wore relief blended with a tired smile.
Skye slipped out both doors faster than she went in. She quickly glanced at her watch. Class in five minutes.
“Hey, Skye!” She heard a familiar voice she had longed to hear for two weeks.
“Sooze! C’mere!” Skye said as loudly as she dared, and gestured toward the girl shuffling down the hal way.
“I’m coming. I’m coming,” said the scrawny girl with big feet and bigger hips. “Where you been?”
She punched Skye in the arm.
“In prison! Not real y. I’ve been placed again. It’s awful. When we have more time, I’l tel you al about it.” Skye quickly looked around. “Where’s Kenny?” she asked, glancing beyond Sooze’s short, straight, mousy brown hair which was sticking out al over as usual.
“Haven’t you heard?” Sooze’s thin lips and hol ow brown eyes answered in disbelief. “He got busted, big time last week. Bubba decided a hal monitor wasn’t enough, so he cal ed in a cop with his sniff dog. They found hard stuff in Kenny’s locker. This time his parents couldn’t buy his way out. He’s been sent upstate for at least eighteen months.” Her arms flung wildly from her cheap T-shirt.
“How about you?” Skye pleaded as she looked behind her shoulder. “I mean — do you have anything?”
“Yeah. Catch up with me at lunch. By the way, you stil owe me for the last time.” She cocked her right hand and pointed it in Skye’s face.
“I know, I know. Just give me a little time. I’ve been as good as locked up in a box for two weeks. Give me a day or two; I’l get the cash.”
“No. I need the money at noon today or no deal.” Sooze meant business.
“Okay, okay. I’l see you at lunch. Don’t forget the stuff.”
“Yeah, right. See you then.”
In the cafeteria, Skye picked at her dried-up spaghetti as she sat next to Sooze.
“Hey, can you get away after school today?” Sooze asked as she consumed a pile of French fries. “Tony wil have his car. He and Jeff want us to bum around with them at the mal .”
Skye’s face was suddenly dark. “You know I can’t.I have that dumb programming at Maranatha. I real y wish I could.”
“Bummer!” Sooze said and then guzzled her milk.
“The woman — you know, Mrs. Chambers — said you’re welcome to come and ride the horses anytime, and you should see their basement. It’s fil ed with al kinds of neat stuff. We’d be under lock and key, but at least we could hang out together.”
“When?”
“She said any weekend would be fi ne. Just let her know ahead of time and get permission to ride the horses.That’s al .”
“Cool. I know I can. Mom doesn’t care what I do,”Sooze said as her gaze swept the noisy room.
“Hey, look who’s coming this way!”
Skye took a sip of juice as her eyes settled on a beautiful blonde dressed in designer jeans, expensive clogs, and a vest. She walked like a model down a runway, carrying a ful tray and heading straight toward Skye’s table. Skye’s muscles tensed and her eyes drew into narrow slits.
It was Hannah Gilbert in al of her beautiful, snotty glory.
“Excuse me,” Hannah said
condescendingly as she placed her tray on the table and pul ed coins from her fancy shoulder purse.
“Why?” Skye snapped. “What’d you do?” She and Sooze snickered.
“I’d like to get to that pop machine behind you, if you don’t mind.”
“No, we don’t mind,” Sooze barked. “Go right ahead.”
“Excuse me,” Hannah said, “but y o u are in the way. Would you both move?”
“We are n o t moving,” Skye announced as she eyed Mr. Peters, the cafeteria monitor, on the other side of the room. “Why don’t you slither under the table?”
Hannah threw her head back and let out a loud sigh. She folded her arms and tapped her foot. “I figured as much from white trash like you!” Skye’s face flushed, and she rocketed out of her seat. Before Hannah knew what was coming, Skye cocked her fist and punched Hannah right in the face, sending her staggering backward into another table.
Mr. Peters came running, yel ing at the top of his lungs, “Everybody stay seated! Calm down! No one leaves this room.”
Sooze jumped up from her chair with her eyes as big as her spaghetti plate. “Man, are you in b-i-g trouble now! What’d you do that for?” Skye stood with her fists stil clenched like a boxer who was so surprised he won the match he didn’t know what to do next. Her mouth was hanging open, her face was flushed, and al she could think of was Chesterfield and never seeing Champ again.
Petrified, she scanned the room. Everyone was looking in her direction — the place was as silent as a morgue. A crying Hannah held her bleeding nose, her body quivering in shock.
Skye shoved past Sooze and ran out of the cafeteria before Mr. Peters could reach her table. In the hal , she stopped, took a breath, and looked in both directions. A ray of outside light peeked in as a door opened to her left. Skye raced toward it. As a line of students from gym class filed in, she pushed her way past and ran as fast as she could off the school grounds and down the street toward the center of town .
This time, I’m dead meat, she thought .
Chesterfield, here I come!
Skye never looked back.
chapter nine
Running. It seemed like Skye was always running.
Before moving to Keystone Stables, she ran for fun, for the thril of the chase, just to see if she could get away. Back then she didn’t care if she got sent to Chesterfield or any other lockup. Her rotten life was worthless anyhow. But this time it was different. She was running away from Champ.
Skye huddled next to a dumpster at a pavilion nestled between budding maple trees at the city park. She continued to pant, not only from running twenty blocks in the May sun but also from the fear that now gripped her heart. This time running was no joke. She had too much at stake, and if she could undo it al she would.
“Stupid, stupid!” Pounding her forehead, Skye agonized over her latest stunt. She pul ed her knees to her chest and focused on a bal field hugged by a chain link fence and bil boards. She pictured Robin running around the bases after smashing a softbal over the fence.
Why can’t I be like her? Skye asked herself. How can she be so strong inside and out?
Skye’s thoughts shifted to Hannah. Miss Priss deserved to have her lights punched out. But why did it have to happen that way — in front of the whole world?
Then there were the Chambers and Maranatha.
What will they say? Will they even give me a second chance? I don’t want to go to Chesterfield!
And what about Champ, the only thing she cared about in the world? She started to cry. Will I ever see him again?
Lowering her head between her knees, Skye sobbed until her nose ran freely.
“I told you I’d find you, no matter what!” a familiar voice announced from behind.
Skye jumped as though prodded with a hot iron.
She wiped her face, returned her arms around her knees, and then stared at the field once again. She should have known the bloodhound would find her.
“Skye Nicholson, when are you going to stop banging your head against a wal ?” Mrs. Chambers asked as she sat down and copied Skye’s pose.
“How did you find me so soon?” Skye said.
“Contacts in high places, my dear,” Mrs.
Chambers said sternly. “Are you coming back with me wil ingly, or do I need to cal the police?” Skye lowered her head, resting it on her knees.
“I take it that means you’l come peaceful y.
Good.”Mrs. Chambers’ voice relaxed as she handed Skye a wad of tissues. “Honey, you real y did it this time. You’l be facing some tough consequences. I only hope the Gilberts don’t press charges. As angry as they are, I’d be prepared for it. If that happens we won’t be able to keep you out of Chesterfield.” Mrs. Chambers gently placed her hand on Skye’s shoulder, waiting for a reply.
Skye shrugged off Mrs. Chambers’ hand and tightened her pose. “Miss High and Mighty deserved what she got.” She blew her nose in the tissues and
threw the shriveled-up bal against the dumpster.
“You’re doing it again, Skye. You’re blaming other people for your unacceptable behavior.”
“Wel — she just makes me so mad!”
“One of the reasons you’re with us is to learn how to control that anger. When wil you learn that your temper causes you nothing but trouble and heartache?”
Skye didn’t answer.
“Here’s what we need to do,” Mrs. Chambers said.
“We’l go back to my office. I have phone cal s to make, including the Gilberts and Mr. Bubbosco. And I want you to do some serious thinking about what you did. Every day next week we’re going to zero in on your temper. By next Friday you should be ready to bring yourself up.”
“Bring myself up? No way! I won’t do that. Ever!”
“The only way we’re going to keep you out of Chesterfield is to show the school and the judge that we’re making progress. Consider your options.
They’re pretty limited right now.”
A picture of Champ romping in the pasture ran through Skye’s mind. She remained silent for a long time.
“Wel ?”
“Al right, I’l try,” Skye grumbled.
“That’s al I ask,” Mrs. Chambers said.
“How about doing some homework together?” Morgan asked as she motored into Skye’s bedroom.
Skye, assuming her usual pose on the bed, did not answer.
“Earth to Skye!” Morgan glanced at the desk heaped with books. “Let’s do some homework. You might have been expel ed, but you stil have to meet with that tutor at Maranatha every day, don’t you?”
“Don’t go bal istic on me, Morgan!” Skye protested.“I might as wel be locked up in that closet for the next few weeks. I didn’t think I’d get the death penalty for such a stupid thing as punching Hannah’s lights out.”
“Yeah, but you’re lucky the Gilberts decided not to press charges. And you better obey that restraining order the judge issued. As long as you and Hannah don’t cross paths you should be okay.”
“Okay? You say okay when my life is ruined? No school, no friends. And on top of that, no game room, no phone, and no Champ for two whole weeks in this prison. I can’t even walk down to the barn to look at him! Take me out and shoot me!”
“Skye, I told you to be careful. Mr. and Mrs. C.
aren’t people you mess with,” Morgan said, flipping back her long red hair. “I had to learn the hard way too. What restrictions do you have?”
“Only child abuse to the n th degree. That’s al .” Skye tightened her folded arms and crossed her legs with a snap. “Extra cleaning jobs, double-duty weed picking in the garden, helping y o u cook at least twice a week — the list goes on and on!”
“Give me a break,” Morgan said. “Look at the bright side for once, wil you? At least you’re not in
jail. You can stil play board games with us in the evening.”
“Whoopdeedoo.”
“And the Chambers included you in last night’s Bi
ble study group.”
“Double whoopdeedoo.”
“And what about the horse show in August? It sounds to me like they expect you to show Champ.” Skye ran both hands through her hair excitedly.
“Now you’ve got my attention. If I ever get to see Champ again, wil you show me how to practice for the show? He’s the only thing that keeps me sane.” But even thoughts of Champ couldn’t keep Skye from fixating on her punishment. “Then there’s Maranatha. Get this! Mrs. Chambers wants me to bring myself up on Friday. She has got to be kidding.
She thinks I’m ready, but is she in for a surprise — a big one!”
“You stil don’t get it, do you?” Morgan said. “The Chambers and Keystone Stables are the best things that ever happened to you.”
“Al right, kids,” Mr. Scott announced to the circle of slouching, grouching kids in I C, “today we’re going to the Chambers’ home. You can play in the game room or take a riding lesson from Mr. Chambers. As usual, no straying from the group, and please get permission to use the bathroom. The main floor is off limits, and I repeat, off limits. Is that clear, ladies and gentlemen?”
The grumbling was almost deafening.
“Any questions?”
Mr. Scott turned to Skye and gestured. “Before we go, we have unfi nished business. It’s Skye’s turn to bring herself up. Come here, Skye.”
Like magic, every kid sat erect and focused on the center of the circle. The room became a tomb.
Skye’s hands started to sweat and she wiped them on her jeans. It was time to run, but where to?
And how would she get out? Where could she hide from the group’s icy stares and stinging words?
Skye forced herself toward Mr. Scott, her eyes glued to the floor. With her face grimacing in pain, she hugged her chest so tightly she could hardly breathe.
“Okay, Skye, it’s al yours,” Mr. Scott said.
Skye swal owed hard. “I — I’m bringing myself up because I punched Hannah Gilbert in the face,” Skye said in a whisper, stil staring at the floor.
“Look at the group, please,” Mr. Scott directed.
“And speak louder.”
Skye raised her head like a bashful child. “I’m bringing myself up because I punched Hannah Gilbert in the face,” she repeated a little more forceful y.