Free Team Challenge by Janet Rising

and I were the wild card. I sort of glossed over how badly our team had performed in the first qualifier, concentrating instead on our plans to get to the Brookdale final.
    After lunch, Dad dropped me back at the yard. “We’ll have to do this again,” he said.
    “Mmmm,” agreed Skinny. “Now that I’ve got all the gear, I’ll need to use it!”
    I waved and sighed with relief as I watched the car bounce down the drive and away. Then I remembered how I had promised myself I’d make an effort with Skinny Lynny.
    And how I had failed.
    Again.

Chapter 8
    H aving had our confidence shaken so much at the first qualifier, we were all very nervous at the second, held at Beeches Riding School, even though the ponies had promised to do their best, and we were all determined to make them feel good whatever the outcome. If we didn’t make the first three this time, it was the end of the road as far as our Brookdale ambitions went.
    Beeches was miles away, so by the time we’d ridden over there, we were all pretty well warmed up. I had our outfits in my backpack, so they were a bit creased, but we had to go with it. I wished I’d asked Dee to bring them with her—her mom was dropping her off by car after her schooling session with Dolly. Her HOYS campaign was in full swing, and she’d just missed qualifying at her last show by one place. Not for anything would I have swapped places with Dee in the horse trailer on the return journey with her miffed mom. Can you imagine?
    This time, Drum and I were first to go in the wild card event. As I waited in the collecting ring, trying not to look at the other teams and smoothing down the creases in my skirt, I whispered to Drummer, reminding him of his promise.
    “Stop worrying,” he said. “I’ll be an absolute pro. Honest. Your wimple’s wonky, by the way—you’re letting me down.”
    I pulled the conical hat straight. There was a stiff breeze, and the chiffon scarf kept blowing across my face. My yellow dress threatened to trip me up. I saw Katy, Bean, Dee-Dee with Bluey, and Tiffany and Moth, all grinning and giving me the thumbs-up sign. Well, the humans were. The ponies couldn’t because they don’t have thumbs, obviously.
    “The next competitors are Pia Edwards and Drummer, for the Great Eight,” the announcer managed to say without sniggering, which was impressive. Drum and I walked into the ring and faced the judges—three of them standing with clipboards, looking all stern and important. I nodded toward James and he started the CD player. It was now or never!
    Drummer was as good as his word. He twirled, he shuffled, he did exactly what we’d practiced and what I asked him to do. He even shook his head a couple of times to get the bells going. At the end, we bowed to the judges, and I could see them all smiling broadly—they even clapped.
    “You
star!
” I hissed to Drummer, patting him like crazy as we left the ring.
    “Told you,” he said smugly.
    “Oh, well done, you were both amazing!” squealed Katy, peeling off Drum’s leg bandages.
    “Good old Drummer!” cried Dee-Dee, forcing pony cubes into my pony’s willing mouth.
    “Hey! Lay off the ‘old’ part,” Drummer mumbled, shaking his head as I peeled off his ear protectors.
    “Good job, Pia!” said James.
    “Now you all have to be fabulous, too!” I laughed, relieved our part was over. It was a tremendous start. Our score was a decent fourteen out of twenty. Not bad!
    I caught sight of Cat and Bambi performing their polished routine, their teammates cheering at the end. But we couldn’t stay long, because it was Bean’s turn to perform her dressage.
    “I’m so nervous. Look!” she said, thrusting wobbly hands out in front of her. “What if we mess up again? I’ll let you all down. What if I let Tiffany down? She’s been so fantastic lately—and she’s been so brave about the noseband.”
    “Just do your best,” said Katy, patting Bean’s arm.
    “You looked great at the last