Riding Star. Stacy Gregg
School Formal? What’s his name again?”
“Riley,” Georgie said. She wasn’t about to tell James that she hadn’t spoken to Riley since the Formal, or that she wasn’t even sure if she was still dating him.
“He doesn’t go to Blainford, does he?” James asked.
“No,” Georgie said, “he’s at Pleasant Hill High School.”
“So this Riley,” James said. “How did you meet him if he doesn’t go to school here?”
“He’s Kenny’s nephew,” Georgie said. “He was helping me to school Belle.”
“So, he’s some kind of horse whisperer?” James sneered.
“No,” Georgie said, “He rides trackwork. Racehorses.”
“Does he have his own stables?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions about him,” Georgie frowned. “You’re acting like my dad.”
“Am I?” James said, a fraction too quickly. “I’m just wondering what you see in him, that’s all. A guy like that…”
“Like what?” Georgie said.
“You know,” James said. “He’s not one of us, is he?”
“I didn’t know there was an ‘us’,” Georgie said.
“Oh, yeah,” James said. “Totally. There’s a ‘you’, and there’s a ‘me’ and I definitely think there’s an ‘us’…”
As he said this he reached out a hand and gently touched Georgie’s cheek. “You’ve got a snowflake on you,” he said. “I thought I’d better wipe it off.”
Suddenly Georgie’s cheeks burned so hot they could have thawed a snowdrift.
“I better get back,” she somehow managed to get the sentence out. “It’s getting late.”
“I’ll come with you,” James said. “This snow is getting pretty heavy.”
They walked back down the hill, both of them staying off the subject of Riley. Instead, they talked about their new classes for the term. James was a year ahead of Georgie and he was a showjumper. But he’d already decided that next year he would switch his option and major in polo.
“I tried to fight it, I guess,” he said. “It was just such a cliché, what with my dad being on the school polo team when he was at Blainford. I wanted to be different, but I’m playing for Burghley this season and Heath Brompton, the polo master, thinks I could go pro one day. I guess it’s in the blood, you know. Like with you and your mom and eventing.”
“Not so much,” Georgie groaned. “I’m out of the cross-country class this term, remember?”
“Oh, yeah,” James winced. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. What are you taking instead?”
“Dressage,” Georgie said.
“And it’s not going well?” “It’s so boring,” Georgie said. “And everything is complicated. It’s like she’s speaking a foreign language.”
“German?”
Georgie giggled. Bettina was also her German teacher. “I’ll get used to it, I suppose,” Georgie said, trying to sound positive.
They had arrived at the turn-off that led to her stables.
“Well, this is me,” she said.
“I guess I’ll see you later.” “I guess you will,” James said. He turned his chestnut to ride away and then he halted the horse and looked back at her.
“By the way,” he gave her that killer grin, “love the Princess Leia plaits.”
*
Georgie didn’t know quite what to make of her conversation with James. He’d seemed jealous at the mention of Riley – but he was the one that had split up with her! Although, it wasn’t actually James’s fault that they’d broken up – it was Kennedy’s meddling that had caused it.
Her heart was still thudding as she unsaddled Belle and rugged the mare up for the evening, letting her loose with her hard feed. Did James want to get back together again? And was that what she wanted too?
It must have been freezing cold as she walked back from the stable block to Badminton House, but Georgie didn’t notice. She felt as if she were floating like a snowflake, light and ethereal. It was getting late and the skies were darkening. As she walked along the driveway the lights above her began flickering on. They glowed overhead, lighting her way like a row of tiny moons illuminating the road between the school and the boarding houses.
Still walking on air, Georgie bounded up the steps of Badminton House. She was about to open the door when she heard the voice behind her.
“Georgie!”
She turned round. There was a boy, his dark brown hair squashed underneath a woollen beanie. He was wearing a blue and black checked shirt and dark denim jeans. Swinging the door shut on his red pick-up truck he walked up the path and that was when Georgie saw the bunch of white flowers in his hand that were clearly intended for her.
It was Riley.
“Welcome back,” Riley said, holding out the white lilies to her.
Georgie had never been given flowers before – apart from the time her dad bought her a pot plant when she was in hospital having her tonsils out, but that didn’t really count. The lilies had a deep, musky perfume. Snow was falling on the petals. They were still standing there on the doorstep and no one was saying anything.
“Hey,” Riley broke the silence. “I’m sorry that I never called you after the Formal. I got really busy with the horses and—”
“I can’t ask you in,” Georgie blurted out. “We’re not allowed to have boys in the boarding house without a permission note. Besides, I have to get changed for dinner.”
They stood there for another moment or two, and then Riley raked a hand uneasily through his hair and grabbed his keys out of his coat pocket. “It’s OK,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at the pick-up truck. “I’ve gotta go anyway. I promised Uncle Kenny I’d bring the truck back straight away and I’ve been waiting here a while now.”
He smiled at Georgie. “I just wanted to say hi, you know, and that…” he hesitated, “I’ve missed you while you were away.”
Then he looked embarrassed. “Anyway,” he began, backing down the stairs towards the truck, “I better go now.”
He was halfway back down the path when Georgie called after him, “Riley, wait!”
He turned round. “Yeah?” “Thanks for the flowers. They’re really beautiful.” Riley smiled. “I’ll give you a call, OK?”
He got in the pick-up, slammed the door and drove off. Georgie watched the tail-lights disappear into the dark and then went inside. The clock on the wall said six-fifteen, which meant that all the boarders would be in their rooms getting ready for dinner. The first-year boarders all lived downstairs, and each of them shared a room with one other girl. Georgie had been sharing with Alice Dupree ever since Alice took the liberty of swapping her name for Daisy King’s on their first day of school.
Alice was lying on her bed when Georgie came in. She was studying a riding manual and had it open to a page about fitting martingales.
“Nice lilies,” she said without looking up from her book. “Riley must have spent a fortune on them.”
“How did you know they were from Riley?” Georgie asked.
“Because he’s been sitting