"Well duhhh," Fern replied, giving an extra big eye-roll, "Why wouldn't you want to do that - get to train with a horse until you know it better than everyone, and you are best friends for life, and you win the race because you can read each others minds and trust each other? And you DO help others - you make people happy because they have something to get dressed up and cheer for, and some people, you even make them lots of money because they bid on your horse and your horse won." Fern had no idea what Benzi was thinking. It was probably because he hadn't ever ridden a winged horse before, let alone a normal horse. They would have to fix that.

Or not. Flinching at 'Lake Girl,' Fern spat out, "It was just a question, Super Shorty! And FYI - Dashingly Disheveled was the title of S.R. Griffin's Spring Collection!"

Everything had been better when he was still bowing down to her. "Listen. I need to do my- WHAT!?" Fern took Benzi's signal as a go ahead to grab the parchment and pull it over to her side of the table. Luckily, her ink-stained hands had long dried, so she didn't leave any marks.

The 11-year-old squinted at the gossip column. Benzi was right. The parchment had changed. And this new writer had terrible handwriting. It took her a while to decipher the writing, but as she did, her eyes grew wider and wider. Then she let out a shriek. "BENZI! Do you know what this MEANS!?"