noise that greeted her was earsplitting. Her brothers were in the middle of a huge argument.
“You are so stupid I can’t even believe it!” Alex screamed at Chad.
“This from the moron who wants me to get him tickets to a Death Drop concert?” Chad spat back.
“At least
I’m
trying to use my head.”
“For what? A doorstop?”
Stevie dropped her things and tried to get between them. “You guys, cut it out!”
Chad pushed her aside. “Butt out, Stevie! He’s been asking for this all day!”
“Me?” yelled Alex, clearly outraged. He turned to Stevie. “Ever since you called here this morning he’s been a total jerk. He even made Michael cry!”
“Well, if Stevie hadn’t bitten my head off over the camera thing …,” Chad responded heatedly.
Stevie couldn’t believe her ears. Somehow it was all her fault? “Hey, wait a minute. If you hadn’t suggested the camera, we might have thought of something else by now!”
“Oh great, blame it all on me!” Chad bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“I do!” shouted Alex.
Stevie stepped back and put her hands over her ears. She couldn’t take much more of this. “Shut up!” she hollered over the bedlam. “Will you two shut up for one second! Mom and Dad will be home any minute and we can’t let them see us like this.”
Her words seemed to reach the two boys, because they fell into an angry silence and settled for merely glaring at each other instead. Stevie seized the moment to beat a retreat, grabbing her stuff and heading to her room. “You know,” she yelled at them from her doorway, “Veronica diAngelo was right. Things would be a lot better around here if you guys would run away and leave the rest of us in peace!” She slammed the door with all her might.
The tears started even before she could reach her bed. She flung herself down and muffled her sobs in her pillow, kicking her feet and pounding her mattress in rage.
Eventually, after the worst of it was over, she reached for her stuffed blue dog, Wubbie, burying her tearstained cheeks in its soft fur. As she reached for a tissue to blow her nose, her eyes fell on the telephone.
Almost every time in Stevie’s life when she was badly upset, her Saddle Club friends somehow sensed it and came to her rescue. She watched the phone expectantly. Nothing happened. She looked at Wubbie. “Should I?” she asked him. His soulful face was sympathetic but noncommittal. Stevie reached for the phone.
She tried Carole’s house first. She was disappointed when she got no answer but a little relieved that Colonel Hanson hadn’t picked up, either. Stevie loved Carole’s dad, and they both shared a passion for bad jokes, but today she wasn’t feeling very funny. Next she tried Lisa’s house. Again there was no answer. She put down the phone and leaned back against her pillow. She could picture her two friends down at TD’s, laughing and chatting.
They didn’t even invite me
, she thought resentfully, conveniently forgetting that she had snuck out of Pine Hollow in order to avoid just that.
Feeling very sorry for herself, she rolled over on her side and snuggled Wubbie even closer.
W EDNESDAY AFTERNOON , S TEVIE found herself in the unusual circumstance of walking home from the bus stop with her brothers. Since the big blowup on Sunday, the four of them had managed to reach a truce, and now they were all racking their brains over the elusive anniversary present idea.
For her part Stevie was glad she had a problem to focus on: It took her mind off the previous day’s riding class. Tuesday sessions were for the more advanced riders, so the under-twelve Pony Partners had been absent, but they hadn’t been the only thing missing that day. Gone also was The Saddle Club camaraderie. It seemed to her that she, Lisa, and Carole had all gone out of their way to avoid being together. Every timeshe
had
made an effort to chat with them, they had both made it clear they weren’t interested. Carole had
“You are so stupid I can’t even believe it!” Alex screamed at Chad.
“This from the moron who wants me to get him tickets to a Death Drop concert?” Chad spat back.
“At least
I’m
trying to use my head.”
“For what? A doorstop?”
Stevie dropped her things and tried to get between them. “You guys, cut it out!”
Chad pushed her aside. “Butt out, Stevie! He’s been asking for this all day!”
“Me?” yelled Alex, clearly outraged. He turned to Stevie. “Ever since you called here this morning he’s been a total jerk. He even made Michael cry!”
“Well, if Stevie hadn’t bitten my head off over the camera thing …,” Chad responded heatedly.
Stevie couldn’t believe her ears. Somehow it was all her fault? “Hey, wait a minute. If you hadn’t suggested the camera, we might have thought of something else by now!”
“Oh great, blame it all on me!” Chad bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“I do!” shouted Alex.
Stevie stepped back and put her hands over her ears. She couldn’t take much more of this. “Shut up!” she hollered over the bedlam. “Will you two shut up for one second! Mom and Dad will be home any minute and we can’t let them see us like this.”
Her words seemed to reach the two boys, because they fell into an angry silence and settled for merely glaring at each other instead. Stevie seized the moment to beat a retreat, grabbing her stuff and heading to her room. “You know,” she yelled at them from her doorway, “Veronica diAngelo was right. Things would be a lot better around here if you guys would run away and leave the rest of us in peace!” She slammed the door with all her might.
The tears started even before she could reach her bed. She flung herself down and muffled her sobs in her pillow, kicking her feet and pounding her mattress in rage.
Eventually, after the worst of it was over, she reached for her stuffed blue dog, Wubbie, burying her tearstained cheeks in its soft fur. As she reached for a tissue to blow her nose, her eyes fell on the telephone.
Almost every time in Stevie’s life when she was badly upset, her Saddle Club friends somehow sensed it and came to her rescue. She watched the phone expectantly. Nothing happened. She looked at Wubbie. “Should I?” she asked him. His soulful face was sympathetic but noncommittal. Stevie reached for the phone.
She tried Carole’s house first. She was disappointed when she got no answer but a little relieved that Colonel Hanson hadn’t picked up, either. Stevie loved Carole’s dad, and they both shared a passion for bad jokes, but today she wasn’t feeling very funny. Next she tried Lisa’s house. Again there was no answer. She put down the phone and leaned back against her pillow. She could picture her two friends down at TD’s, laughing and chatting.
They didn’t even invite me
, she thought resentfully, conveniently forgetting that she had snuck out of Pine Hollow in order to avoid just that.
Feeling very sorry for herself, she rolled over on her side and snuggled Wubbie even closer.
W EDNESDAY AFTERNOON , S TEVIE found herself in the unusual circumstance of walking home from the bus stop with her brothers. Since the big blowup on Sunday, the four of them had managed to reach a truce, and now they were all racking their brains over the elusive anniversary present idea.
For her part Stevie was glad she had a problem to focus on: It took her mind off the previous day’s riding class. Tuesday sessions were for the more advanced riders, so the under-twelve Pony Partners had been absent, but they hadn’t been the only thing missing that day. Gone also was The Saddle Club camaraderie. It seemed to her that she, Lisa, and Carole had all gone out of their way to avoid being together. Every timeshe
had
made an effort to chat with them, they had both made it clear they weren’t interested. Carole had
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