High Stakes Read online

  “Good.” Cam smiled. “It’s a date, then.”

  He kept talking as they continued toward CARL, chatting about the trails around Pine Hollow, but Carole hardly heard him. Her head was spinning. A date? Did he really mean that the way she thought he did? She still wasn’t sure. Maybe it had just been a casual comment—the same sort of thing she might say when making plans with Stevie or Lisa. Then again …

  Who cares if this is a date, as in a date date, or just a date for two old friends to hang out? she told herself. Either way, I’m just happy I get to see Cam again.

  But as Cam took her elbow to steer her around a jagged crack in the sidewalk, Carole felt herself shiver slightly, even though her jacket was more than enough protection against the chilly afternoon air. She didn’t know for sure yet what it meant to have Cam back in her life, but she couldn’t wait to find out. Suddenly the next afternoon seemed an almost unbearably long way away.

  FOUR

  The next morning when she arrived at school, Stevie was so busy thinking about the list of possible Sentinel articles she’d come up with the night before that she didn’t see Scott heading her way until he called her name. Snapping out of her trance, Stevie gulped and forced a pleasant, neutral expression onto her face. “Hi,” she said as Scott reached her.

  “Howdy,” Scott replied cheerfully. “Looks like you’re lost in space.”

  Stevie smiled weakly, wishing she’d decided to take the other staircase. “Oh. Uh, I was just thinking about my burgeoning career as a reporter,” she said. “I’m on my way to a meeting with Theresa—you know, the editor. She likes to meet with new people for a few weeks one on one in addition to the regular staff meetings. She’s waiting for me in the media room right now.”

  “I’ll walk you there,” Scott said easily. “I’m headed that direction myself. So how was your weekend?” He fell into step beside her.

  Stevie bit her lip, wishing she knew what to do about Scott. The situation was becoming more and more worrisome the longer it went on. Why can’t he just get over me already? she thought. Then we could go back to being friends again, and everything would be just fine.

  Realizing that she was taking an awfully long time to answer a simple question, she quickly cleared her throat. “My weekend?” she said. “It was good. Great, actually. Phil and I went out on Saturday night, remember? We had a great time together. Like we always do. Very romantic.”

  She realized she was babbling, but if Scott noticed, he didn’t comment on it. “That’s cool,” he said as they reached the stairs and started up them. “Hey, not to change the subject or anything, but I have a question for you. What’s this Starlight Ride thing I keep hearing about?”

  “The Starlight Ride?” Stevie gulped again. Until that very moment, she had always thought of the tradition as a fun, special time spent with good friends. But now, as she stole a peek at Scott beside her, she couldn’t help thinking that it could be seen in another way. As a romantic evening, riding under the stars with that special someone … “Um, why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” Scott replied with a shrug. “I already asked Veronica about it, but she said it was just, and I quote, ‘some lame trail ride where people act like dorks and freeze their butts off.’”

  Stevie grimaced. It was no surprise that Veronica wouldn’t have anything complimentary to say about the Starlight Ride. Thanks to her obnoxious attitude and general disdain for stable rules, she’d been banned from the Starlight Ride more often than not over the years when she’d been a regular student at Pine Hollow.

  “Don’t listen to her,” Stevie said, unable to bear the thought that Veronica was slandering one of her favorite memories. She had to correct Scott’s impression, even if it meant encouraging him to imagine the two of them riding along together in the moonlight. “The Starlight Ride’s great. It happens on Christmas Eve, usually right at dusk. Max lines a trail through the woods with lanterns, and everyone rides over to town, where there’s this big bonfire and hot chocolate and stuff. People sing carols as they ride, and once it actually snowed, and Max turned up riding in a horse-drawn sleigh.” She sighed nostalgically at the memory, one of her favorites in all her years of riding. “It’s definitely more for the younger kids, though,” she added hastily as Scott nodded with interest. “I mean, I haven’t gone myself in a couple of years now—older, more experienced riders like my friends and I don’t usually go along on the ride anymore. We just help out with the setup or whatever.” She decided there was no point in mentioning the fact that as far as she knew, Carole was the only one of her friends who had ever helped out much—if at all—with the Starlight Ride before that year.

  “Hmmm,” Scott said. “Sounds like a fun time.”

  “Oh, it is—for the younger kids,” Stevie assured him. “As for the rest of us, well, we’ll probably be really, really busy for the next few weeks getting everything ready.” She sighed heavily and gave a dramatic shrug to emphasize her point. “The behind-the-scenes prep isn’t going to be fun and games, you know. It’ll be work—real, physical-labor type grunt work. And lots of it.”

  There, she thought with satisfaction as Scott turned away briefly to return a passing friend’s greeting. That should convince him that there won’t be much point hanging around the stable for a while. Maybe by the time the Starlight Ride comes and goes, he’ll have come to his senses and realized that we’re meant to be just friends. She stole another peek at Scott as he returned his attention to her, trying to gauge his reaction.

  Instead of looking bored or disgusted, as she’d expected, he looked interested. “Wow,” he said. “It sounds like you have your work cut out for you. Who’s going to be doing all this backbreaking work, anyway? I thought Carole was still more or less grounded.”

  Probably trying to figure out if there’s any chance of catching me alone in the hayloft or something, Stevie thought in dismay.

  “Oh, there’ll be a bunch of us helping out,” she assured him quickly. “You know, the regular Pine Hollow gang—me, Lisa, maybe Phil—” She made a quick mental note to invite Phil over to help. “The usual suspects. Of course, Max and Denise and Red and Ben do a lot of the work, too,” she added generously, feeling a twinge of guilt at the way she was overplaying her role. Sure, she’d promised Max she would help, but that didn’t mean the paid stable hands were going to be sitting around twiddling their thumbs.

  “The whole gang, huh?” They had almost reached the media room by then, and Scott paused in the middle of the hallway, looking at her with interest. “There must be an awful lot to do. Sounds like you could use all the help you can get.”

  “Sure, I guess,” Stevie replied distractedly, already thinking about her meeting with Theresa.

  “Good. Then I hereby volunteer,” Scott announced with a smile.

  That got Stevie’s attention back. “Huh?” she said. “Volunteer? For what?”

  “For grunt duty. I want to help you guys out with the Starlight Ride.” He shrugged and winked. “I’m sure you all can find something for a non-rider like me to do, right?”

  Stevie’s mind raced. “Oh, that’s okay,” she said quickly, mentally kicking herself for not seeing this coming. “You really don’t have to do that. I was just complaining before. We actually have everything under control, so you—”

  Scott held up one hand to silence her. “I won’t take no for an answer,” he said with a gallant little half bow. “Just consider me an honorary stable hand.”

  Stevie smiled weakly. What could she say? I could tell him I know why he’s doing this, she thought. I could tell him I know how he feels about me.

  But somehow, it didn’t seem like the right time or place. The hall was growing more and more crowded with students heading to homeroom, and Stevie was already a little late for her meeting. She would just have to figure out something later. Maybe Callie could give her some advice at lunch.

  “Listen, I’d better get in there,” Stevie said, gesturing toward the open door of
the media room. “Theresa’s waiting for me.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she escaped into the spacious double room that served as a home base for the school’s newspaper, yearbook, and audiovisual clubs. The editor, a thoughtful, rather serious senior named Theresa Cruz, was sitting at one of the long tables scattered throughout the room, poring over the previous Friday’s issue of the Sentinel.

  “Hi,” Stevie said, hurrying over to her. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Good morning, Stevie.” Theresa looked up, blinking her large dark eyes. “It’s okay. I was just reading over your article about the junior sociology project. It turned out very well.”

  “Thanks.” Stevie beamed, knowing that the compliment was almost as valuable as a favorable comment from Max. Maybe Theresa wasn’t constantly yelling about keeping her heels down and her elbows in the way Max did, but like Max, she didn’t lavish praise on people who didn’t deserve it. Even after just a week on the Sentinel staff, Stevie knew that. “I’m pretty proud of it. It was hard work meeting the deadline and everything, but definitely worth it.”

  Theresa nodded and folded the paper carefully, setting it aside atop a pile of books and notebooks. “Have a seat,” she told Stevie, gesturing at the chair across from her. “I want to talk to you about your future at the Sentinel.”

  “Great!” Stevie yanked out the chair and perched on the edge, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “I already have tons of ideas. I mean, I still wish I could do a story on the CARL fund-raiser this weekend, but I—”

  “Wait, Stevie.” Theresa smiled slightly. “I appreciate your enthusiasm. But I’m not sure we’re ready for that just yet. After all, you just joined the paper.”

  “What?” Stevie was stunned and disappointed. True, Theresa had told her at the beginning that she would have to work her way up to being a full-fledged reporter. But then that junior-class project had come along, and Stevie had stepped forward to cover it, since all the other writers were busy with other stories. Her article had turned out well, as Theresa herself had just said. Didn’t that mean she’d paid her dues?

  “I understand that you’re eager to do more writing,” Theresa went on sympathetically. “But I do think you’d benefit from learning the ropes a little more before you go any further with your own writing.”

  “Oh,” Stevie said glumly, sinking back in her seat. She was tempted to argue, to point out that she could learn and write at the same time. But one glance at Theresa’s businesslike expression convinced her that it would be pointless. The other girl’s mind was made up, and if Stevie ever wanted to see her name in a byline again, she would just have to suck it up and play the good little student for a while, even if it meant typing up the weekly lunch menu or proofreading other people’s work. “Um, okay. What do you want me to do first?”

  Theresa smiled. “Actually, I have a special assignment in mind for you, Stevie. An important job. I think you’d be really good at it.”

  Stevie sat up a little straighter, feeling a stab of excitement course through her. “Really?” she said. “An assignment? What is it?”

  Theresa leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms in front of her. “As I’m sure you know, Fenton Hall’s fiftieth anniversary is coming up next fall. The administration is already planning all sorts of festivities to celebrate the occasion.”

  Stevie nodded expectantly, resisting the urge to giggle. Theresa was just about the only person she knew who would actually use the word festivities without a trace of irony. The only person under age forty, anyway. “Yes,” she said, keeping a straight face with difficulty. After all, she probably wouldn’t get to hear about this mysterious assignment if she insulted the editor now. “I remember hearing something about that. Do you want me to write a sort of preview of all that? Talk to Miss Fenton about what she has planned?”

  “Not exactly.” Theresa pulled a piece of paper out of one of the notebooks in the stack beside her and glanced at it. “Do you know Cassidy Clark?”

  “Sure,” Stevie said with a shrug. “She’s a senior, right? I think she was on the publicity committee for the student council last year.” She pulled up a vague mental image of a tall, big-boned girl with light brown hair. “I don’t know her very well, though.”

  “That’s all right,” Theresa said. “You’ll be getting to know her a lot better soon. She’s the section editor of the School News page, which means she’s in charge of all this year’s coverage of the anniversary celebration. She’s going crazy trying to research her first article on the history of the school, and I’d like you to help her out.”

  “Oh.” Stevie blinked, wondering exactly what Theresa meant by that. “You mean she’s going to talk about the illustrious past of Fenton Hall or whatever? Will I need to interview, like, former students about their glory days?” That didn’t sound too bad. Stevie liked talking to people, and she was sure she could uncover some interesting stories if she put her mind to it.

  But Theresa was already shaking her head. “I think Cassidy’s on top of that,” she said. “You’ll mostly need to help out with the research. You know, dig through old yearbooks, newspapers, records at the township office, that kind of thing.”

  “Oh.” Stevie’s heart sank. “Um …”

  “This is a very important project,” Theresa continued. “Normally I would ask a more experienced reporter to do it, but after the good work you’ve already done in the past week, I think you can handle it.”

  Stevie smiled weakly as Theresa went on about all the important drudgery that needed to be done. As far as Stevie was concerned, a research assistant was a research assistant, no matter how thrilling Theresa tried to make it sound. Still, she could tell that the editor was sincere about thinking that Stevie should be honored by the assignment, so she did her best to look fascinated as she frantically searched her mind for a way out.

  I can’t just say no, she thought desperately, imagining herself trapped for the next few months in the school library, which always seemed a little like some kind of medieval jail cell anyway, with its low ceilings, musty smell, and constantly flickering fluorescent lights. If I bag out on this, Theresa will think I’m not a team player. Then my chances of getting a decent story accepted anytime this year will be about as good as Alex’s chances of making the honor roll. In other words, zipporama.

  She bit her lip, trying to come up with a way out. Maybe if she wowed Theresa with another story idea, the editor would reconsider. But as she scanned her mental list of the ideas she’d come up with so far, she wasn’t sure that any of them would do the trick.

  It needs to be something special, she thought. Something that only I could do.

  Suddenly she remembered her conversation with Scott. “That’s it!” she blurted out, breaking into Theresa’s monologue about the importance of citing the correct sources. Catching herself, she grinned apologetically. “Um, sorry for interrupting, but I just remembered one very important story idea I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Theresa frowned. “Stevie, I thought I told you—”

  “But wait!” Stevie insisted, leaning forward and gripping the edge of the table. “I really think you’ll be interested in this. Have you ever heard of Pine Hollow Stables?”

  “Sure.” Theresa shrugged. “That’s the riding place just outside of town, right? But what does that have to do with—”

  “I’ve been riding there for years,” Stevie plowed on, ignoring the slightly annoyed expression on Theresa’s face. “And one of the most wonderful traditions at Pine Hollow is something called the Starlight Ride.” Without waiting for an invitation, she quickly outlined the basics. “You reminded me about it when you were talking about the Fenton Hall anniversary thing just now. Um, because the Starlight Ride is an important, totally cherished tradition, just like attending our school is.” She realized that was sort of a stretch, but she let it stand, holding her breath as she watched Theresa’s face.

  The editor was nodding thoughtfully. “Hmm
m,” she said. “That does sound sort of interesting. And quite a few of our readers are riders.… All right, Stevie.” Theresa smiled. “Let’s do it.”

  Stevie let out an excited whoop. “Really? I can do the article?”

  “You can do the article,” Theresa confirmed. “On two conditions.”

  “Sure!” Stevie agreed immediately, figuring that Theresa probably wanted to assign another reporter to give her some tips. Or maybe she thought Stevie needed a research assistant of her own.

  “Number one, I’ll need the finished article next Thursday at the latest,” Theresa said. “That week will be our last issue before winter break, and there’s not much point in running a holiday article in January.”

  “No problem,” Stevie said quickly. “What’s number two?”

  “Number two, you should only take this on if you’re sure it won’t interfere with your work with Cassidy.”

  Stevie’s heart plummeted like a stone. “O-Oh,” she stammered. Obviously, it wasn’t going to be quite as easy as she’d hoped to get out of research duty. But what else could she say, especially now that Theresa was being so nice about the Starlight Ride idea? “Um, sure. No problem there, either.”

  “Good.” Theresa glanced at the clock above the door. “I guess that’s it for now, then. You can talk to Cassidy today at our regular staff meeting and make arrangements directly with her. The homeroom bell’s about to ring—you’d better get going. See you at the meeting.”

  Stevie said good-bye and hurried out of the media room, a little relieved to be escaping without any mention of writing up lunch menus or spell-checking teachers’ names. Okay, so maybe I’m still stuck playing research assistant, she thought with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. But at least now I also have a real story to keep me excited about this whole newspaper thing.

  Carole clenched the wheel of her car as she took the familiar turn into Pine Hollow’s small gravel parking lot. She’d been growing steadily more nervous ever since she’d left school a few minutes earlier. Scanning the cars already in the lot, she immediately spotted an unfamiliar one, a recent-model black Jeep. It had to be Cam’s.