Nothing But Horses (24 page)

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

“No, this is about basketball, Sierra.”

The entire squad stopped and stared at us.
Dr. Danvers smiled sweetly. “Here’s the deal, girls. Nobody with
Sierra’s stats misses every time she shoots unless it’s on purpose.
You know that. I know that. Anybody who has ever played any kind of
game knows it, especially Principal Gallagher.”

“She has to dial it down to keep Coach Norris
happy,” Neva said. “Otherwise, he benches her during the game and
makes her run lines all Friday.”

“He won’t bench her again.” Dr. Danvers
hugged me super quick before she stepped away. “She plays at least
two quarters every game. One of those will always be the last so
she can continue to help Lincoln have strong finishes.”

“No way.” I stared at her. “How do you intend
to make that happen? Shrink Coach’s head?”

“No, that’s not my job. Principal Gallagher
is making it happen for you.” Dr. Danvers folded her arms,
measuring me with her steady gaze. “Those are the only
accommodations we’re providing for you, Sierra. You still run lines
if you disrespect Coach Norris. We expect you to try and learn what
he teaches you.”

“I am,” I said. “He’s really strong on
teamwork. It’s making me a better player.”

“Sounds good.” She patted my shoulder. “I
want to see that winning attitude all season.”

The locker room remained quiet while we
changed clothes. Finally, Patricia glanced at Gretchen. “Did you
learn anything at all when you were in the office?”

“Nothing. So when I went to give Dr. D. her
mail I asked if she knew why Coach was being so mean this year. Was
he having personal problems or what? Had something happened over
the holidays?”

“That makes sense,” Cedar said. “He was
awesome when we did cross-country. He never yelled at Robin or Gwen
or Porter when they were P.R.ing at the meets, even when the rest
of us didn’t.”

“I thought he figured girls weren’t as
athletic or competitive as guys,” I said. “Some people believe in
stereotypes.”

“Not Coach,” Cedar said. “He’s never acted
like this before.”

“Since Dr. D. and Principal Gallagher showed
up today, it justifies my theory,” Gretchen said. “Do you want to
hear it?”

“Yeah.” Olivia waved for silence so everyone
could hear the blonde’s soft voice. “Tell us.”

“I think Principal Gallagher has been telling
Coach Norris how to run the team,” Gretchen said. “That would
totally tick him off. He’s accustomed to being in charge. He’s not
this season.”

“What?” My voice felt as if it froze in my
throat. “Why would the principal do that?”

“He loves sports and winning,” Olivia told
me. “He gave you an athletic scholarship right before winter break,
didn’t he?”

I nodded. “My grandfather told the principal
how good I am on the court.”

“He already knew. All he had to do was read
the sports sections of the local paper if he didn’t listen to us
talk. You didn’t even try out, did you, Sierra?” Olivia didn’t wait
for me to answer. She heaved a sigh. “Okay, it’s brainstorm time.
We have to figure out a way for Coach to save face. Everybody start
thinking. I want suggestions tomorrow afternoon. Great job,
Gretchen.”

“I’ll say,” Patricia agreed. “You’re
officially in charge of the psychological bandages for this squad.
Sierra, keep practicing at home until we come up with a strategy to
deal with Coach’s issues. Don’t you dare quit on us. We need
you.”

“How did you know - - -?” I stopped, unable
to finish my question. I had been thinking about walking away, but
I loved basketball and I liked the girls on this team. They were
the best players I’d ever joined on the court. “I didn’t say I’d
go.”

“If I was in your shoes, that’s what I’d
think about doing too. Just remember that Coach is right. Winners
never quit and quitters never win.”

“You got it.” I picked up my bags and left
with everyone else.

It had become a habit to go to the Burger
Palace on Tuesdays between practice and the at-risk group. As soon
as I arrived at the restaurant, I had a seat in my favorite booth
and the waitress gave me a menu. Tom brought me a glass of ice
water and asked if I wanted my usual chicken fettuccini. When I
said I did, he headed off to bring me a salad.

“You look like you had a better day today,”
Tom told me when he returned. “Am I right or wrong?”

“My new team is growing on me,” I said.
“Coach is still on my back, but the squad likes me.”

“They should. They make you a better player
and you make them better too. That’s what is supposed to happen
when you have a good coach who promotes sports as a way to teach
life lessons.”

Wow, totally different idea there. I hadn’t
even thought about it. Tom was right. Kanisha had improved and so
had Cedar. Gretchen could shoot a three-pointer now. Patricia
didn’t depend on me to do all the scoring. Everyone on the squad
shot baskets. Okay, so maybe Coach had a point. There really wasn’t
an “i” in team.

When Tom refilled my ice water, he said,
“Autumn told me that your birthday is coming up. Do you know what
you want?”

“A pink softball and bat that matches my
basketball.” I wouldn’t ask for what I really wanted, a trip to the
Spring Fling to see the horse extravaganza. He couldn’t afford it
and what was the point in hurting a nice guy? None! Instead, I went
on, “It’ll go with my new Saint Sierra attitude of allowing people
who are a waste of time, space and oxygen to exist. Maybe, I can
get No, No Veda to wear a pink bridle.”

“Good luck with that. I think he’s too macho
for it.” Tom stepped back, still holding the water pitcher. “Are
you giving me a ride to group tonight?”

“You know it.”

 

 

Chapter
Twenty-Two

 

Marysville, Washington

Wednesday, January
29
th
, 3:00 pm

 

The past week had flown. Last Thursday, we
stomped the Snohomish team. Aspen Watson had shown up at the game
with some of the same girls and a few new ones. They’d sat on our
competitor’s side of the gym and watched us play. I’d used most of
Coach’s strategies, passing the ball to the rest of the squad and
didn’t do what he called my “hero” routine until the last four
minutes of the game.

He left me in so we won by a wide margin, but
he wasn’t happy. I knew that and I didn’t complain when he made me
run lines the entire practice on Friday. The other girls didn’t
join me this time. Gretchen had suggested we try the “choose up
sides” strategy on him. They would play whatever game he wanted and
let him use me as the scapegoat. Fighting him on the point hadn’t
worked. Maybe, joining him would.

The act didn’t bother me that much since they
discussed it with me in the locker room before we came onto the
court. I had to wonder if he knew how much talking we did in there.
If he’d been as spiteful as one of my stepdads, Coach would have
groomed up a spy. He wasn’t and he didn’t.

Friday afternoon was obedience class and
Charlie wowed everyone by coming when I called him both on and off
leash. Aspen had asked how I taught him that and I told her the
same way I’d taught it to Nevada. I hated chasing my horse and I
wasn’t going to run after Charlie. Carrots brought my horse to the
pasture gate. Bits of homemade chicken jerky did the same for my
puppy. Aspen eyed me suspiciously when I said that.

I explained my mom’s fiancé had issues with
store-bought doggie goodies so he taught me how to make my own.
Aspen actually high-fived me and told me I was the best new puppy
owner she’d met. She usually had to lecture people forever on the
subject before they recognized the perils of highly-processed
treats. I didn’t tell her I grew up reading labels on feed sacks
and I wasn’t feeding chemicals to my dog. If I couldn’t say one of
the ingredients, he didn’t get the product.

On Saturday, it was Community Theater back in
Stewart Falls. Mr. Haller and the other teacher took turns
assigning the parts. I was part of the supporting cast like I
wanted. Patricia was too and she was also the understudy for the
lead. We had both signed up to do costumes during our talk with Mr.
Haller. When Ms. Incredible heard that she would be Victoria, she
turned white, then green, then burst into tears.

I pulled a package of tissues out of my
pocket and went over to her. “Sop it up, will you? Otherwise,
they’ll think Patricia and I are morons.”

“What?” More tears streamed down. “I don’t
get it.”

“You’re the best. I’ll have to work to catch
up with you. Patricia will too, so we told Mr. Haller that.”

“What?” She lowered the wad of tissues, but
she still looked shocked.

“Come on.” Patricia joined us. “I may be
blonde, but I’m not stupid. You’re better than us, but if you were
here next year, we’d kick your rear and be the stars. This time,
it’s you.”

“No way. You didn’t do that.”

“Yes, they did. Your teacher and I already
wanted you, but I thought I might need to finesse it with my
students.” Mr. Haller smiled at the three of us. “Instead, the
girls informed me last week that I should choose the best singer
for the part regardless of what school she attended. I’m extremely
proud of them. They’ve set a high standard for our Community
Theater participants to follow. The show comes first.”

“Can we move on, Ms. Incredible?” I demanded.
“We want to hear the names of the rest of the leads. Who is King
Marchand?”

“Why are you calling me that?” She looked at
us from beautifully drenched dark eyes. “My name is Madison.”

“Your voice, Ms. Incredible.” I was growing
impatient with her, but I still worked on my Saint Sierra act. I
wouldn’t tell her she was annoying. But, come on. When I bawled, I
looked like a cross between
Rudolf
and a demon with my red
eyes and runny nose. She was just as gorgeous as she’d been before
she lost it. There should be a law, or at least a rule that
brunettes weren’t allowed to cry in front of an audience.

I hadn’t changed my mind on that during
practice this Wednesday afternoon. We did all our usual drills and
moved onto scrimmages. Coach Norris continued to sub in players and
I kept missing all the shots whenever I was on the court. Finally,
he blew his whistle and waved for the five of us to come over to
him.

“Are you going to do this the entire time,
Sierra?”

“Do what, Coach?” I widened my eyes and did
my best innocent princess look. “I’m not doing nothing, sir.”

“That’s the problem. You keep air-balling and
expecting everyone else to pick up the slack.” He frowned at me,
then the rest of the squad. “You’re not going to hit the basket
today, are you?”

“No, sir. Not unless you tell me that I can,
sir.”

“What?”

I held the ball and met his gaze. “Sir, if
you tell me that it’s okay for me to really play with these girls,
I will, sir. Otherwise, sir, I’ll wait until tomorrow’s game with
Pine Ridge, sir. And then, sir, I’ll clobber our competition,
sir.”

He held up his hand to stop me. “And if I
don’t tell you that I want you to take practice seriously, you’ll
continue to hold back, won’t you?”

“I’m just trying to please you, sir. What do
you want me to do, sir?”

“Are you going to think about the game
today?”

“I am, sir. It’s not easy to miss this much,
sir. Do you really want me to change it up, sir?”

He grabbed the ball from me, passed it to
Olivia. “Run lines, Sierra. The rest of you get back on the court.
Sub in, Zoey.”

I shrugged and jogged off to run lines at the
far end of the gym. I didn’t bother to hustle or try hard. What was
the point? There wasn’t one. Nothing I did pleased the guy. Whether
it was chauvinism or a contest with the principal, Coach Norris had
issues. They weren’t mine and tomorrow, I intended to do my part to
see we won the game up in Pine Ridge.

* * * *

Marysville, Washington

Thursday, January
30
th
, 3:00 pm

 

Coach Norris and Coach Evans stood by the bus
while we boarded for the trip to the other school. Coach Evans
grinned at me. “Hey, Sierra. How’s it going? Have you beaten my
record yet?”

“No. It’s tough.” I stopped and grinned back
at him. “The best I’ve done is eight when I talked to my
grandfather on the phone last Sunday. I had to stop when he asked
me if I was mad at him for a reason because I’ve never done it with
him before. I only got to two with my mom’s fiancé. He told me that
if I ever did it again, I’d be cleaning my barn with a teaspoon for
a week.”

“Did what?” Coach Norris looked at us. “Is
there a problem here?”

“No, sir.” I pasted on one of Vicky’s “rah,
rah” smiles. “With twenty stalls to muck every day, sir, I don’t
want to irritate my potential stepdad, sir. Dave might actually
take away my pitchfork, sir, and only let me have a teaspoon, sir.
I’d do better with one of my student’s plastic gloves, sir. She
picks up each individual turd, sir.”

“That’s only seven, Sierra.” Coach Evans
pointed to the bus. “Get on and next time, put one at the
beginning, middle and end of each sentence.”

“Hey, awesome tip. Thanks.” I got on the
bus.

This time Bill sat next to me and helped with
my Cornell notes for Social Studies. Granted he spent part of the
trip telling me how wonderful Robin was and how happy she’d been
when we chose her to be president of our club, but I couldn’t have
everything. I wondered if a guy would ever do that about me. Did
Tom think I hung the moon and stars?

In the parking lot, we clustered around Coach
Norris and he reviewed his expectations for the game, the plays and
us. We headed for the gym and I saw Aspen Watson standing near the
doors, her posse of first-string players behind her.

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