Stacy Gregg - Riding Star

She couldn’t believe her father would know enough to buy her the jacket. Her dad had a very bad track record at choosing her presents so it must have been Lucinda’s choice. Either way, Georgie didn’t care – she’d loved the look on her dad’s face when she had said with absolute honesty, “Thank you, Dad – it’s exactly what I wanted!”

As she headed along the driveway back to Badminton House, Georgie shoved her hands deep in the tartan-lined pockets of the Barbour. Her conversation with Tara had given her the smallest scrap of hope, but in a way that only made it worse. She would spend the whole term struggling with a new class – and for what? Tara might never take her back. What if the headmistress, Mrs Dickins-Thomson, vetoed her request? Maybe Lily was right. Why was she torturing herself like this? Tara had made it clear that she wasn’t promising anything – even at the end of term. And what was she going to do in the meantime? Dressage class was a joke and—

“Parker!”

Georgie groaned. She turned round to confront the two people she had been trying to avoid ever since she arrived back at Blainford: Conrad Miller and Kennedy Kirkwood.

If Georgie had thought that the concept of Conrad and Kennedy as boyfriend and girlfriend was creepy, the actual sight of them holding hands on the driveway was even more disturbing.

Both of them were wearing standard uniform navy wool blazers and scarves. Conrad, being a senior, wore long black boots. He also wore spurs, which denoted his status as a prefect.

“Hey, Parker!” Conrad called again. “Nice jacket.”

Georgie didn’t respond. Conrad hadn’t called out to her to give her a compliment. There was something else coming and she knew it.

“But it’s not regulation school uniform,” Conrad added. “Take it off now.”

The look of smugness on Kennedy’s face as her boyfriend gave the order was unbearable. Georgie scowled back at them.

“Don’t be a numnah, Conrad. I’ve had a tough day, I’m freezing cold and I’m going back to my dorm, OK? Just leave me alone.”

“I’m serious, Parker,” Conrad said, clearly loving the thrill that his prefect powers were giving him. “That jacket isn’t regulation. Take it off right now.”

Bristling with anger, Georgie did as he said, pulling the coat off.

“All right. Satisfied?” She was about to turn round and leave when Conrad spoke again.

“Parker.”

“What?”

“Give me the coat.”

Georgie couldn’t believe it. “I’ve taken it off, Conrad, I won’t wear it at school again.”

Conrad shook his head. “Not good enough. I’m confiscating it.”

He stepped forward to take the coat out of Georgie’s hands. For a moment she tightened her grip, but then realised that this was going to end badly for her, no matter what.

Conrad smiled as he snatched it from her and then left her with four spiteful little words. “Parker – you’re on Fatigues.”

Chapter Four Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen About the Author The Pony Club Rivals series Copyright About the Publisher Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

It wasn’t the fact that Conrad Miller had given her Fatigues that upset Georgie. The war between Georgie and Burghley House’s head prefect meant that it was almost a Blainford tradition for Conrad to dish out punishment to her at any opportunity.

What really irked her was the jacket.

“He only confiscated my Barbour so he could give it to Kennedy,” Georgie told Alice. “She’s probably wearing it right now.”

“I always wondered what Kennedy saw in Conrad,” Alice said. “Now I realise she’s in it for the power trip. He has the ability to seize Barbour.”

The two girls were on their way to the stables to saddle up for their afternoon lessons and Georgie had some big news.

“I’ve dropped out of dressage.”

Alice was wide-eyed. “But, Georgie, you’ve only had one lesson!”

Georgie shrugged. “There’s no point in kidding myself. I knew straight away that I didn’t fit in. It was all so uptight. No one seemed to know how to have fun.”

Georgie knew that she needed to find another sport that got her adrenalin surging in the way cross-country did. And when she looked through her list of options, one leapt out at her. She was taking her first Rodeo lesson today.

“Georgie Parker?”

“Yes, Mr Shepard!”

“Call me Shep,” the head of the Western department said affably, pushing back the brim of his ten-gallon hat to reveal a weather-beaten face.

“Georgie, it says here that you’ve transferred out of dressage class?”

“Yes, Mr Shepard,” Georgie said. “Well, kind of. I was only in it for a day. Before that I was in Tara Kelly’s cross-country class.”

“Have you ever done any rodeo riding before?”

“No, sir, I mean Shep,” Georgie corrected herself. “Apart from cattle roping in your Western class in the first term.”

Shep raised a grey bushy eyebrow. “We’ll give you a try in the bronc chute and see how you go,” he said in his languid drawl.

Georgie followed Shep over to the round pen where his first-year Rodeo class were perched on the railings waiting for their teacher. In the bucking chute beside the round pen an unbroken stallion thrashed like a great white shark.

Shep paid no mind to the stallion crashing and banging alongside him as he addressed the class.

“We’ve got a new girl joining us today from dressage.” He drew the last word out as he said it – ‘drey-ssage’.

“This is Georgie Parker.”

Georgie waved to the other riders sitting up on the railings. She recognised a few faces from her other classes. She knew Bunny Redpath and Blair Danner, and the two boys that they always hung out with – Tyler McGuane and Jenner Philips.

“Georgie, why don’t you take the first ride today,” Shep said. “You step on up here next to me on the platform.”

Georgie sidled along the railings to the platform above the bucking chute. From here she could see the black stallion right below her. He quivered with barely suppressed terror as he stood trapped inside the railings of the tiny space. All his instincts were screaming at him to run, to escape. But instead he was forced to stand there, with the surcingle round his belly irritating him, and the girl hovered above him on the platform, making him even more nervous.

“Crouch down low,” Shep told her, “and swing one leg out over to the other side of the chute like you’re doing the splits right over his back.”

Georgie went to do as Shep had told her, and then flinched as the stallion suddenly surged forward and slammed his chest straight against the barriers. Reeling back, the black horse pushed up on his hocks, trying to rear and Georgie felt her stomach lurch in fear as the wranglers on either side of the chute quickly sprang into action and grappled with ropes on either side to keep the stallion’s head down.