Stone Creek Academy: Faith

Chapter One

"Regina, we're here," my mother called from the front seat. Her voice was just audible over the country music streaming through my headphones, but I'd been waiting to hear those exact words for four months.

My eyes darted out the window. A thick line of bushy green trees gave way to a flawlessly manicured lawn. Sidewalks crisscrossed the greenery, pale as snow and swept to perfection. As I looked out the other window, I found an even better sight awaited. Gleaming horses grazed calmly in a pasture of freshly cut emerald green grass.

My father steered our snowy white Escalade into an open parking space. Almost before the vehicle stopped moving, I flung open my door and leapt out onto the parking lot's tar surface. Inhaling deeply, the unforgettable aroma of horses made me feel instantly at home. I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to take a moment to realize the fact that I was really here.

Stone Creek Academy was supposed to be the toughest junior high in the nation, and one of the toughest in the world. But what set it apart was its equestrian program. Stone Creek Academy accepted only horseback riders, and only the best riders, at that. Though ranked one of the top junior riders in the US, I was still lucky to have made the cut.

Here, I knew, I was barely a beginner. Jasmin, my old trainer, had taught me well. In fact, she still had plenty to teach me. I was attending Stone Creek because of its advanced academic opportunities. And, of course, the fact that the show jumping trainer here was Celia Worth, internationally renowned 2-time Olympic gold medalist and former USET Chef 'de Equippe.

"Oh look, Sonic's here!" My mom said enthusiastically, waving frantically to the driver of the horse van we'd employed to trailer my horse, Sonic, to Stone Creek. Sonic, formally known as Sonic Seventeen, was the most amazing horse in the world. Very few horses could outshine him in the jumper ring, and he was versatile enough to win equitation classes when I needed him to.

The horse van halted near us, and the driver had Sonic unloaded in a heartbeat. I thanked the driver, and immediately began stroking Sonic's steel grey shoulder. My parents followed me at a distance as I led Sonic toward the stables.

The entire campus was engaged in a kind of orderly chaos. Students, horses, parents, and movers scurried in all directions, looking bewildered yet purposeful. Sonic didn't even bat an eye at the commotion around him. One girl I saw wasn't as lucky as I was with Sonic. Her horse, a high-strung looking bay, danced and neighed at the end of the lead rope.

"You know, some of us would like to go faster than negative eight miles per hour. Can't you go any faster?" A voice snapped from behind me. Turning, I saw a slim, pretty girl with perfect, wavy blonde hair and aquamarine blue eyes leading a jet black warmblood.

"Here, you can go ahead of me," I apologized, startled by her rude greeting. Clucking gently, I asked Sonic to sidestep out of their path. She barged past us, almost pushing me out of the way as she went. I shook my head in wonder. Some people just didn't get it.

Sonic and I continued toward the stable. It was beautiful, brand new, and very high tech. Unlike traditional barns, it was flat across the top, and rather short for being two stories tall. Clear sliding doors like the ones in supermarkets made up the entrances. Mouth falling open, I led Sonic inside.

Hardwood and brushed nickel accents came together in a beautiful combination. Skylights illuminated the stalls and aisle ways. The floors were perfectly swept, and as I led Sonic past stall after stall, not a single speck of dust appeared to be out of place. I was incredulous as to how they kept this place clean.

Sonic figured out which stall belonged to him faster than I did. He stopped next to one stall door and refused to budge until I read the nameplate. It was his. Peering between the bars, I knew Sonic would love it here. An automatic marble waterer posed in the corner of his stall. A built in marble feeder was attached to the wall beside it. Rubber matting was just visible under a thick bed of shavings. And on the sliding stall door, a gleaming nameplate proudly displayed Sonic's full name.