AllFreeNovel
Share Us
And that was fine with me!
“Miss Hale.” Ms. Gentry sat beside me on the bench and flipped through her clipboard papers until my name appeared, printed in black loopy writing. “I do hope today’s antics won’t become a problem. I am not in the habit of entertaining girls who draw unnecessary attention to themselves. Poise and self-discipline. Those are the qualities that make a fine Junior Rodeo Queen.”
“Ms. Gentry, I think there’s been a mistake.” I turned toward her, scanning the paper on her clipboard. That definitely wasn’t my mom’s handwriting. She didn’t dot her I’s with little hearts. “I’m not supposed to be in this competition.”
She pursed her lips and little pucker lines appeared around her mouth as she looked down at the form. “I don’t understand. Your name is Charlotte Hale?”
I nodded. “Yes, but—”
“And you are sixteen years old and a junior-to-be at Rock Valley High?”
“Yes, but you see—”
“Then it sounds like you are, in fact, supposed to be in this competition.” She looked up at me, clouds looming in her dark eyes. “The two young girls who signed you up after the deadline this afternoon were adamant that you be added to the roster. That you were worthy. Do not make me regret allowing them to bypass the rules set in place. I do not often make exceptions. I expect your full and devoted attention to this prestigious process.”
My mouth flapped uselessly as Ms. Gentry stared at me and raised her brow. There was no arguing with the woman. At least not right at this moment. I needed time to think that didn’t involve being under her harsh stare. She didn’t seem like the type who was just going to let me quit the competition without a perfectly good reason. And right now, my brain could come up with nothing.
“Have I made myself clear, Miss Hale?” she asked firmly.
I snapped my mouth shut and nodded. “Crystal.”
“Good.” She stood up and looked down her nose at me. “Then we will see you tomorrow at ten a.m. sharp for the first event. It will count as ten percent of your total score. Do not be late.”
“Yes, Ms. Gentry.”
She strode toward her son waiting two tables over. He looked as nervous and sweaty as ever, but he didn’t hesitate to follow her when she glided past him. And as I watched them both walk away, her words finally seemed to sink in.
“Two young girls?” I asked the empty pavilion. “Two young girls signed me up?”
Who could that be?
Suddenly, bile filled my mouth. I had a pretty good idea which two young girls Ms. Gentry was talking about. Two young girls who had lied about an errand they were running this afternoon and showed up late to the ceremony. Two young girls who were going to have a lot of explaining to do.
So much for being friends.
“Oh, I just can’t wait to hear this one,” I grumbled, pushing myself off the bench.
The excitement and joy I’d carried for my first movie night with Hunter fought against the frustration I felt toward Lexi and Beth in that moment. Already, it
seemed like my plans for getting back to normal this summer were being stomped on by someone wearing oversized cowboy boots.
There was no way I was entering that competition.
Not for all the money in the world.
Chapter Five
My cell phone was suspiciously quiet.
No texts from the traitors.
I held my cell in my hand as I walked up to Hunter’s house with a bagful of goodies, feeling the terribly strong urge to give Lexi and Beth both a call and demand they explain what had happened today. But that wasn’t part of tonight’s plan. Instead, I pushed the thought to the back of my head and crammed the phone into my pocket as I looked up at the small two-bedroom home Hunter shared with his mom.
The brown siding and white paint around the windows was peeling. The evergreen bushes in front were so overgrown they looked like two hairy trolls in desperate need of a trim. And the welcome sign that had hung on the door was now hanging at a slight angle. It never used to be this way. Hunter’s mom usually kept it looking nice. But her ex-fiancé, Steven, had let the place fall into ruin after they broke up and she moved Hunter to Texas last year. He’d only moved out a few months ago.
Good riddance.
My fist hovered over the door as I considered whether to knock. I used to walk right in and help myself to one of the goodies sitting on their kitchen counter. Bree had insisted on it. She’d treated me like I was her adopted daughter. But things felt different now—like it would be an invasion of privacy. So instead of reaching for the brass doorknob, I wrapped my knuckles on the wood and waited until the door swung open.
