Unfriendly Competition by Jessica Burkhart

riding Willow, a sweet strawberry roan school horse. “I imagine you’re all feeling a little nervous and that’s normal. But we’re going to take things slow. Going back to the place of the accident and doing the cross-country you’d had planned for this morning is the best way to get rid of your fears. Okay?”
    We all nodded, silent.
    â€œI understand that this morning was extremely traumatic. If none of you feel you’re ready to go back, I understand. Doug’s in the outdoor arena, and he’ll be more than happy to add you to any class he’s teaching. You don’t have to do this.”
    But we did. At least, I did.
    â€œI can handle it,” I said.
    Everyone else chimed in with a similar response.
    â€œOkay, then. Follow me down the drive, and we’re going to cross the road together,” Mike said. He squeezed his legs against Willow’s side and the two started away from the stable and down the school’s driveway.
    Together, Heather, Brit, Callie, and I moved our horses forward. We reached the end of the driveway in what felt like seconds. There was a collective hesitation among us as we reached the end of the drive.
    â€œIt’s okay, girls,” Mike said, looking back at us. “Let’s get the hard part over.”
    For the first time, moving as a team, we followed Mike and crossed the road together. We reached the grass and waited for Mike to open the gate. With ease, he leaned down from Willow’s back and unlatched the metal gate. He walked her forward, swinging open the gate for us. We rode through and waited for Mike to latch the gate.
    He stopped Willow in front of us, his freckled face already tinted red from the cold November breeze. I was glad I’d put on my wool coat and had put on Charm’s warmest saddle pad. I dug into the zipper pocket in my coat and pulled out Tropical Punch Lip Smacker gloss. So I was kind of a nervous glosser . . .
    â€œWe’re going to start with a trot across the field, then we’ll canter for a couple of miles up and down a few hills to keep building stamina,” Mike said. “We’ll encounter a few low fences and hedges along the way, then we’ll reach the woods. Once we get there, I’ll explain what you’ll come to next.”
    Mike smiled at us and adjusted his chin strap. “Ready?”
    â€œReady!”
    And I was. The fear I’d felt about riding had disappeared once we’d reached the other side of the road. We had to be ready for Huntington—and cross-country was my favorite thing to do with Charm. This was going to be fun!
    Mike let Willow into a trot and the four of us spread out our horses—there was plenty of room in the open field. I loved how the grass, crunchy from the cold air, sounded beneath Charm’s hooves. It looked as if the field stretched for miles and only an occasional tree dotted the grounds.
    Charm kept a smooth trot and with every minute that passed, I relaxed and enjoyed the ride more. I looked over at Brit to my right and Heather on my left. Both of them had calm looks on their faces—I couldn’t see Callie but I had no doubt that she was the coolest of all of us.
    â€œLet’s canter,” Mike called.
    Yes!
    I stopped posting and sat deep in the saddle, preparing to canter. Charm knew what was coming. I gave him an inch of extra rein and slid my hands a little higher up along his neck. He was cantering in two strides. I swayed gently in the saddle, moving with him.
    Brit, glancing over, grinned as Apollo drew even withus and all of our horses kept pace with one another.
    The flat field started to ascend into a gentle incline. I leaned slightly over Charm’s neck and tapped my heels against his sides. I didn’t want him to slow—he had to keep the same speed going uphill. And the zillions of hours we’d spent practicing at Briar Creek and Canterwood paid off. Charm had no trouble