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for the show than she was.
    Lisa decided to get right to the point. “Listen, Stevie, you know as well as I that a few extra hours of jumping is never going to make Prancer and me good enough to beat you and Belle. It’s not like you have anything to fear from me, competition-wise.”
    Stevie looked surprised by Lisa’s comment. She paused before answering her. Finally she said,“Thanks, Lisa, but to be honest, it’s not you I’m worried about,” In a nice way, Stevie explained that she knew that she was better than Lisa, just the same way she knew that Carole was better than she was. But she lived in fear at the thought of losing to Veronica. “Or not exactly fear—more like vile disgust. I just hate the idea that somebody as terrible as Veronica could be better at something than I am. I mean, she’s so bad, how could she ever be good?”
    At Stevie’s unusual phrasing, Carole and Lisa cracked up. They didn’t like to see Veronica win, either. But somehow they didn’t take her failures and successes quite as personally as Stevie. If Stevie, instead of Lisa, had run into Veronica on Sunday, she probably would have set up a course of six-foot fences and dared Veronica to jump them.
    “Seriously, what do you think her chances are to beat me?” Stevie asked. In her own mind, she set the odds at about 50-50. When Veronica focused, there was no telling how well she would ride. She was a “prettier” rider than Stevie was, but she was also likely to lose her temper if one little thing went wrong. Part of the question was whether, in the judges’ minds, Stevie’s “get-the-job-done” style would compare with Veronica’s picture-perfect posing.
    Before Lisa or Carole could answer, the locker roomdoor swung open, and Veronica herself walked in. The Saddle Club immediately stopped talking and busied themselves with changing as fast as they could.
    Half an hour later the group was mounted and warming up in the outdoor ring. To their surprise, class that day was to be entirely on the flat instead of over fences. Everyone seemed relieved when Max made the announcement—the air around the barn was competitive enough without having to compare jumping skills in every lesson. Max had also decided to lighten things up by pairing the “senior” riders—students in The Saddle Club’s age group—with juniors to work on position in the saddle, one of the most important parts of equitation. The younger kids always seemed to have a good time, and their ponies were so cute that the older riders loved working with them.
    Lisa was paired with May Grover, a girl whom she knew from a previous junior/senior matchup. May, a skilled rider for her age, rode a pony named Macaroni. May was so enthusiastic that Lisa always enjoyed working with her.
    Once everyone was paired up, Max put them through a bunch of drills, making them critique one another. Then he let them ride on their own while he watched. The lesson proceeded without incident untilVeronica collided with her own partner and screamed at her for not looking where she was going. Little Laura Heiss, who was only six, screamed right back until she was blue in the face.
    Finally, Max called a halt to the argument as well as to the class. He gave them a quick pep talk for Saturday, reminding them to treat the judges with respect.
    “Do we have to look perfect, Max?” May Grover asked.
    “Not perfect—but pretty close to perfect, May. I expect everyone to be well groomed,” Max replied, turning to go. “And that goes for you and your horses!” he called back over his shoulder. The Saddle Club looked at Carole and grinned. On more than one occasion, she had been known to show up with a beautifully turned-out horse, but with her own hair going every which way, smears of dirt on her face, and a hole or two in her breeches.
    “Don’t worry,” Carole said tolerantly. “I promise to hose myself down before the meeting. Okay?”
    May tugged on Lisa’s sleeve. “I’m not