No Horse Wanted Read Online Free

not as if you really hate horses. You used to ride Cobbie all
over the place, and you took care of him yourself.”
    I jerked away. “Cobbie wasn’t a horse. He
was part Welsh Cob and part Welsh pony. He is dead. He’s been dead
since I was twelve. And going out to find another stinky, smelly
horse won’t bring Cobbie back. He’ll still be dead.”
    “And we’ll all still miss him,” Mom said
softly. “He was my first horse, Roberta. I loved him, too. Just
because I have Singer now, doesn’t mean I love Cobbie any less. We
choose to love creatures that have shorter life spans than we do,
and we grieve them when they’re gone.”
    “Not me.” I leaped to my feet, knocking the
chair over again. “I won’t love another horse. Not ever. You can’t
make me.”
    I bolted from the kitchen and ran upstairs. I
slammed into my room. They’d wrecked my birthday, and I wasn’t
letting them get away with it. Mom might force me to go with them
on Saturday, but I wouldn’t let her get me a horse. I wouldn’t. I
wouldn’t. I wouldn’t!
    * * * *
    Friday, September
13 th , 7:15 a.m.
     
    I sat in the school cafeteria waiting for
Vicky, stirring my mocha with the straw. On the way to Marysville,
Dad had tried talking to me about the stupid horse again, but I
pretty much ignored him until he bought me a coffee at the espresso
stand. Then, it was Jack’s turn. I tuned him out and texted my best
friend, begging her to meet me. I didn’t know if she’d make it or
not. Like she said, since her parents’ divorce, her mom got the
house and a new job. Her dad got the new car and a girlfriend. And
Vick got to take care of her two younger brothers and three younger
sisters.
    Ten minutes before the bell rang, she hustled
across the Commons to join me. “Okay, I’m here. What’s the
disaster?”
    “I didn’t get my car,” I said.
    She plunked her backpack on the extra chair
and sat down next to me. “Did you really think your folks would
cough up fifteen thousand dollars for a Mustang? That’s major
bucks.”
    “They’re buying me a horse instead—a
four-legged hay-burner.”
    “A horse? A real horse?” Vicky squealed and
jumped up to hug me. “You are so lucky. I’d die for a horse. I’d
kill for one. When can I come see it? What are you going to call
it? Can I ride it?”
    “You can have it,” I snapped. “You can
freaking move in with my family and have it!”
    “Oh, get over yourself,” Vicky retorted.
“You’re the lucky one, Rob, even if you won’t admit it. You could
be sharing a room with my sister, babysitting all the time and
changing diapers when you’re trying to do algebra. There’d be no
cell phone or your own TV or clothes from the mall whenever you
want. I wish my biggest problem was getting a horse for my birthday
instead of my parents’ divorce.”
    The bell rang before I had to say that she
was right. I did have things better than she did, but I still
didn’t want a horse. I wanted my car, my amazing Presidential blue
’68 Mustang with its automatic transmission.
    “So, what are you going to do?” Vicky asked,
walking beside me toward Homeroom English. “When does your horse
arrive?”
    “I have to go shopping with my mom and
Felicia on Saturday,” I said. “And if they actually make me get a
horse, I’m bringing home the worst one I find.”
    * * * *
    Saturday, September
14 th , 2:45 p.m.
     
    We spent the day touring stables and checking
out the horses they had for sale. This plan had obviously been in
the works for a while. Jack had hitched up the horse trailer to his
pickup so we could bring home the horse when we found it. Mom and
Felicia had chosen six horses for me to look at. If Shamrock
Stable, the place where I did day camp during the summer, had been
on the list, it might have been different, but my family obviously
hadn’t considered the beginning level, safe horses suitable.
    Two of the horses they chose had already been
sold. Hurrah. The other four were