Lost in London (15 page)

The guard didn’t believe her. “Miss Littleton, your father has arranged a VIP tour for you and your friends.”

“VIP?” Ellie asked. “Ha-ha-ha! I said ‘pee’!”

“We just finished our tour,” Caroline said.

“A trail ride is a unique experience reserved for only very special guests.”

“Wait a minute,” Gordon said. “Your dad can pull strings with the queen but can’t get you a meeting with Daphne’s daughter?”

I was still stuck on this VIP thing. “Like, a ride on one of the queen’s horses?” I asked. “Shut up!”

The guard looked confused. “That won’t be necessary. You can talk whilst you ride. Please follow me.”

“Is he serious?” I asked.

“Quite,” Caroline said. “You know how to ride, right?”

“Ride a horse? Of course.” I let out a little awkward
laugh. “That rhymes.” Hopefully I covered up my nervousness.

“Good. Then you won’t embarrass me,” Caroline said. I figured there was a high possibility that I would embarrass her.

We followed the guard, who delivered us to a stable helper. Gordo walked next to me. “You’ve never ridden, have you?”

“Shh,” I said. “How’d you know?”

“I think you rhyme when you lie.”

“I do?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone,” he said, and pretended like he was locking his lips.

“What am I gonna do?”

“You don’t have many options. I say, ‘fess up or fake it’?”

“I think ‘fake it,’ ” I said.

“Me too,” Gordo said.

“Stay between me and Sammy. These horses are really well trained. They should just stay in line.”

“And if they don’t?”

“How far could they go? This place is all fenced in and protected by the royal guard.”

I said, “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Just keep your eyes on me. I’ll help you.”

“Okay.”

Sam came over. “Is this totally boss, or what?”

“Saddle or paddle, that’s what I always say,” I said.

Sam looked from me to Gordo. “Oh, bloody mess. She doesn’t know how to ride, does she?”

Sam saw right through me. “I am going to fake it,” I said. “Gordo said it will be fine.”

“All-righty. Good luck with that,” Sam said. “Make sure you tighten your helmet.”

We walked to the stables, which were clean, like just-mopped-and-dusted clean. The groom, which is what they called the stable helper, got us on the horses. I was behind Gordo and in front of Sam. I handed the groom my phone and asked her to take a few pictures of us.

After I sent those photos to Mrs. Littleton, we waited to be led to the trail. My horse dug his big nose into anything he saw, while everyone else’s stood in line. “Pull up,” the groom said, but I didn’t know what to pull—my legs, the saddle, the horse’s mane. “Pull up,” she said again when the horse stuck his snout into a bucket of brushes, knocking it over.

I looked at Gordo, who demonstrated what it
looked like to pull up on the straps that held a very uncomfortable-looking gadget on the horse’s face.

Gordo mouthed the word “harder” to me, and I pulled up as hard as I could. This beast was strong, but the tug made him lift his head and stay in line.

The groom and her horse slowly walked out of the stable. The five of us followed. I swayed from side to side on the strong black horse. The ground looked far away, farther than I thought it would when I’d been standing on the ground. I was a little scared, but it wasn’t too bad—I could do this, I could totally ride a horse. How hard could this be?

Then the groom kicked her heels into the sides of her horse. It began to trot. Caroline’s and Ellie’s followed. Gordo kicked his heels, and his horse took off. And mine started to go faster without me even kicking.

Someone yelled, “Ahh!”

When I realized it was me, I tried to stop, but my body jerked with each trot, and with each jerk I couldn’t help letting out a grunt. I held the saddle and reins for dear life.

My helmet bopped around on my head until it covered my eyes.

My horse ran faster and my body sagged off the saddle.

My left foot came out of its stirrup as I fell to the right.

I pictured myself falling off and getting trampled to death. Caroline would be beyond embarrassed, but I wouldn’t care because I’d be dead, and Ellie would have her fill of blood and guts until the sequel to
Bloodsucking Zombies
was released.

“Gordo!” I called. “Help!” Then, as if the horse could hear me, his stride began to break. The reins felt slightly looser in my hands.

“You’re okay,” Sam said. He and his horse were very close to me, trotting right by my side.

I moved my helmet out of my eyes.

“That was so freakin’ scary,” I said, out of breath and almost crying. “You’re like a cowboy. How did you know how to do that?”

“I’ve been around horses since I was little, so it wasn’t a big deal. I was watching you closely because I didn’t think faking it was gonna work.”

“Well, it’s a big deal to me. I thought for sure that my insides were going to be stomped out. At least that would take the news coverage away from the videos for a while,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking to believe that I could just hop on and ride a horse. It was a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to disagree with you. I should’ve stopped you.”

“Thanks.” We approached the stable while the other kids were going down a path. “Did Caroline see?”

Sam and his horse casually led me back to the stables. “Not a thing,” he said. “I’m sure.”

We had to pull Ellie away from the horses. She kept kissing them and thanking them.

“It’s their job,” Caroline said. “You don’t have to thank them.”

Gordo said, “Besides, these aren’t the talking kind of horses. So they don’t understand you anyway.” He was teasing her, but I didn’t think she knew that.

“Let’s go across the street to the Internet café now,” I said. That was really where I’d wanted to go all along.

“Yes!” Sam said. “I’m getting a sandwich. Tuna. Possibly with bacon. Maybe soup, too.”

Gordo said, “You’re going to be a human trash compactor before long.”

“That day is not today, Gordo. You want soup too? And maybe we can share a little cheese plate, eh? You wanna?” Sam asked. I think he knew Gordo wouldn’t eat soup and a cheese plate.

“Maybe a cup of soup,” Gordo said. “
If
it has noodles.”

On our way Ellie asked me, “Where do you think they keep the talking horses?”

I said, “I don’t think Gordo was serious.”

“Why?” Ellie asked. “They probably have to keep them away from the crowds.”

And this is the girl who was going to build the website?

•  •  •

At the café we all got soup and sat at a big booth in the corner. Ellie stared at the café-supplied computer. “Now, what exactly do you want me to do?”

I explained my idea. “Create a website that will be a reference in the bibliography. When the teacher checks the site, she’ll find our message explaining what Sebastian has done. We’ll ask her to
temporarily
give him a B-plus until he returns what he has of ours. She’ll e-mail us that she’s gotten our message, and we’ll reply
when it’s all clear to give him an F for cheating.”

“Why don’t we just e-mail the teacher now?” Caroline asked. “In fact, why didn’t we do that three days ago and skip writing the paper?”

I said, “Because he would’ve posted our videos all over the place.”

“Right,” Ellie said. “I can do this superfast. But how will the teacher know to go to this site?”

I explained, “She’ll check the references.”

“You think she’ll check every single one?” Gordo asked.

“The URL name is going to be important. It will have a subtle clue that the teacher will notice but Sebastian won’t. The clue will make her think, ‘I better check this one out.’ ”

“Like what?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe ‘
www.dwarfplanetpluto.com
, “The depressing truth about Pluto,” by I. M. Acheater.’ Get it?” I added. “Like ‘I AM A CHEATER.’ The teacher probably knows the Pluto websites that students use for this project, but when she doesn’t recognize this one, she’ll look it up.”

“And when she does,” Sam finished, “she’ll find our message.”

“What if Sebastian decides to check it out too?”
Caroline asked. “He’s a twerp, not an idiot.”

“Too true,” Ellie said. “It could totally backfire on us, in which case your late-night videos will be Internet sensations and you’ll be in the tank for grand theft.”

Caroline yelled, “We didn’t steal anything!”

Ellie added, “It’s your word against theirs.”

“WHO!” Caroline yelled. “Who is ‘they’?” She seemed frustrated with Ellie.

Ellie said, “You know, the popo, the police!”

Sam asked Caroline, “Are the police going to believe you? I mean, you
were
in the store the night the stuff was stolen.”

Gordo pushed his unfinished soup cup aside and nibbled his baguette. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Sam took the soup cup and drained it into his mouth. “Bummer.” He wiped the corner of his mouth on a cloth napkin. “It sounded like a good idea.”

“It can still work,” Ellie said.

We listened to her idea. There was a 50 percent chance it would involve talking horses and a 50 percent chance it would be brilliant. “We’ll hold the bibliography until right before the paper is due and make him meet with us in order to get it. We can meet him at Lively’s tomorrow morning and exchange the bib for the flash drive with the videos. That way he won’t have time to check the references.”

Caroline asked, “And what if he doesn’t like this idea and he blasts more evidence of us at Daphne’s? The next batch might include our faces.”

“If he did that, he wouldn’t get his bibliography, and without that he won’t get a B-plus,” Ellie said.

We all looked at her.

“Why are you all staring at me?” she asked. “I think it’ll work.”

“It will,” I said. “You’re a tiara-wearing-glow-in-the-dark-sock-and-zombie-loving genius.”

“Thanks. Give me a half hour. It will be a bomb-diggity,” Ellie said with a proud smile.

We watched every tap she made on the computer. She stopped and peered up at us. “I can’t work under this pressure. Why don’t you go shopping or something?”

Caroline said, “You don’t have to ask me twice.” She tossed her purse over her shoulder, flipped on her white rhinestone sunglasses, and tucked her hair back into the red beret.

“Ditto,” Gordo said. The two of them left, arms hooked together.

Sam and I moved to a different table. “Wanna share a piece of pie?” I asked.

He said, “I don’t know. Let me think. Do I want pie? Am I even hungry? Oh, this is a hard decision. Maybe I
should call the DUH, YES, I LOVE PIE ASSOCIATION.”

“Funny,” I said. “I’ll get it.” I returned with one plate and two forks.

“Think it’ll work?” I asked.

“I think it just might,” he said.

“Done,” Ellie announced. “Easy peasy.” She left the booth where she’d been working and came to sit with us, picking up a fork from another table on her way. She took a wee teeny bite of pie. “Oh. That is so good, I could have another bite.” She took another teensy-weensy bite, and said, “Yup. Still good.”

“Since that’s done, I can tell you my secret plans for tonight,” I told Ellie. “I’m going to need your help to make this a night Caroline will never forget.”

She dropped the fork and slapped her hands over her ears. “La-la-la. If it’s a secret, don’t tell me. I’m terrible at keeping secrets. I don’t mean to be; I just can’t remember what’s secret and what’s not. So, don’t tell me. I trust you guys. Let’s just assume I love the idea and it will be a great night.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you.”

Ellie dropped her hands and continued to take itsy-bitsy bites of the pie, until it was gone.

Sam didn’t stop her but watched with surprise.

Then Ellie rummaged through her purse for a lip gloss and applied. When she was done, she looked at the plate. “Oh my, Sam, it’s all gone.” I don’t think she realized she’d eaten the whole thing.

“It’s all right,” Sam said. “I wasn’t hungry anyway.”

On our way to the train, we passed a store where Caroline “had to” stop. She and Ellie went in while Sam and Gordo searched for a loo.