Chocolate Box Girls: Coco Caramel Read Free Page A

you.
    ‘Have you told the teachers?’ I
push. ‘Bullying is out of order, you know. Only lowlifes and losers pick on little
kids. If that creep can do it to you, he can do it to otherstoo, so
speaking out really is the only way to stop it. Do you want me to say something to your
guidance tutor?’
    ‘No!’ the kid gulps. ‘No,
honestly, don’t say anything, I don’t want a fuss … I’ve
sorted it now. It won’t happen again, I’m pretty sure of that. But thanks
for looking out for me the other day. You saved my skin, and I appreciate
that.’
    I smile. ‘Well … as long as
you’re sure everything’s OK now?’
    ‘I’m sure,’ he says.
‘And … look … I’m sorry about the hat.’
    He races off along the corridor like a mad
thing, bashing into a couple of Year Fives as he goes.
    Boys. I will never understand them. And what
did he mean about my hat?
    ‘That was the kid Lawrie Marshall had
a hold of the other day?’ Sarah enquires.
    ‘Yup. Poor thing.’
    Sarah frowns. ‘He doesn’t look
like a victim,’ she says. ‘More of a troublemaker. And what did he mean
about your hat? Perhaps he hoisted it up the flagpole!’
    ‘No, that had to be Lawrie,’ I
frown. ‘He hates me,and he hates the hat. And he sits across
from me in science, so …’
    ‘So what?’ Sarah shrugs.
‘That proves nothing. You could have dropped the hat, or the Year Six kid could
have taken it out of your locker …’
    ‘Nah, I don’t think so,’ I
frown. ‘But whoever pulled the stunt with my hat, it doesn’t change things.
Lawrie Marshall is a bully, pure and simple.’
    ‘He’s definitely a loner,’
Sarah says. ‘He never seems to have any friends around. Maybe that’s because
of his temper?’
    ‘Probably,’ I agree.
    ‘He’d be quite nice-looking if
he ever smiled,’ Sarah considers. ‘In theory, of course. He never DOES smile
– he is the sulkiest boy I know.’
    ‘He never smiles because he is a
horrible, bad-tempered bully,’ I say. ‘You should have seen him the other
day, Sarah, it was horrible! He practically had that little kid by the
throat!’
    ‘Maybe the kid deserved it?’
Sarah suggests.
    ‘Nobody deserves that. Trust me,
Lawrie Marshall is bad news.’
    As I finish speaking, the boy in question
appears in the distance and stalks along the corridor towards us. As usual, he treats me
to his best glare.
    ‘Idiot!’ he snarls as he
passes.
    My eyes widen in shock and my cheeks burn
with embarrassment as I try to dredge up a reply.
    ‘Oh boy.’ Sarah blinks. ‘I
see what you mean!’
    ‘Loser,’ I mutter, but
it’s too little, too late, of course.
    Lawrie Marshall has long gone.
    I am out of sorts all day after that, but I
have a riding lesson after school and that is the one thing that is pretty much
guaranteed to put the smile back on my face. My lesson isn’t until four, so I have
lots of time to walk down to the stables on the edge of town. With every step the
day’s irritations loosen and lift away.
    I have been learning to ride since
Christmas, and although I know I still have a lot to learn, I love it. I love the smell
of the stable yard, all fresh hay and ponies and leather. I love the paddock exercises
my instructor teaches us for balance and confidence, scissors and frogs and
round-the-world turns and riding with no stirrups. I love hackingthrough the countryside or riding along the beach, trotting or cantering with the wind
in my face and the feeling that I’m free, soaring, that anything at all is
possible.
    Most of all, though, I love a pony called
Caramel.
    I liked her first of all because of her name
– caramel, as you know, is my favourite sweet treat. Then I fell for her looks because
Caramel is possibly the most beautiful pony in the world. She is a pure-bred Exmoor
pony, twelve hands high and a beautiful dark bay colour, rich as caramel. Around her
eyes and muzzle are pangaré markings, mealy-cream, and her mane and tail are thick and
coarse and