âIâm not a bunny.â
âThen what are you doinâ here?â Tyler said. âNo offence, but you donât strike me as a rodeo rider.â
âI got eliminated from cross-country and I needed a new option class,â Georgie said.
She would never have admitted it to Tyler, but sheâd picked rodeo because it looked like fun â plus it seemed like an easy subject to ace an âAâ in the exams and impress Tara. Honestly, how hard could it be to ride like a cowboy? They just seemed to flap their arms and legs to make their horses go â as far as Georgie had thought, there was no real skill involved!
Now, as she watched Blair Danner come flying out of the chute on her bronc, hanging on like she was riding a tornado, Georgie realised she was just as much out of her element here as she had been in the dressage class. She could see the concentration in Blairâs eyes as she threw herself backwards with the movement of the bronc and the strength in her skinny, tanned arms as she gripped the rigging to keep her seat. As the clock ticked on towards the ten-second bell, Georgie marvelled at Blairâs skill. Even while the bronc was trying to buck her off, Blair Danner was still lazily chewing her gum.
Georgie jumped down off the railing of the round pen. âIâll catch you later, OK, Tyler?â
Tyler frowned. âYouâre going? But class isnât over. Donât you want another turn in the chute?â
âNo, thanks,â Georgie smiled. âI think one humiliating fall per day is my limit.â
As Georgie walked back towards the stables, she knew that she was never going back. After her epic fail in the arena she doubted that Shep would be too heartbroken to lose her, but Mrs Dubois might be a different matter. She could only imagine the look on the school bursarâs face when she broke the news that she would be changing classes yet again this term. This was starting to get embarrassing.
*
âOn the plus side, at least youâre sitting with us in the dining hall again,â Alice pointed out when Georgie joined the eventersâ table. âI could never really imagine you hanging out with the Westerns â line-dancing and Stetson-wearing is so not your thing.â
âI donât know,â Daisy King said, âI always thought Georgie would suit those white leather boots with the tassels.â
Georgie got up from the table and picked up her tray. âI have to go.â
Daisyâs face dropped. âHey, Georgie, I was only jokingâ¦â
âI know,â Georgie said. âI have to go and report to the library. Conrad Miller has put me on Fatigues, remember?â
The prefects at Blainford were ruthless, dishing out Fatigues each week and it didnât matter how trivial or huge the crime had been, everyone got the same punishment â and this week that involved cleaning the library.
âRight!â Mr Wainwright the librarian addressed the group of twelve pupils. âThe sooner we get started the sooner weâll get this done. Itâs quite simple. Take all the books off the shelf, then using the damp cloths youâve been provided with, give the shelf a good dust before putting the books back again.â
The students groaned. Mr Wainwright pointed to the sign above his head that said âSilenceâ.
âIâll also need some volunteers to help me sort out the archive section.â
No one put their hand up.
âIâll do it, sir,â Georgie offered. âExcellent!â Mr Wainwright said. âParker, come with me. The rest of you get dusting.â
The archive room was a small windowless space at the back of the main library. The shelves were filled with rows of bound volumes.
âThis is where we keep student records, school information and rare books,â Mr Wainwright explained, pulling a book off the shelf and blowing the dust off the cover before he
Carol Durand, Summer Prescott