Jealousy

by Jessica Burkhart

  Laur,

  Omigod, BFFL! You’re 13 today! I wish I could be there to party with you (and, you know, show off my fab dancing skills), but you do have one Union friend there. I feel so lucky to celebrate another year as your best friend. It doesn’t matter if you’re 5,000 miles away—we’ll always be as tight as if you were home. Now stop reading, go do something fun, and pretend this card is a giant hug from your girl—Brielle!

  ,

  B

  I called Bri, too, dying to thank her. Like my phone call to Ana, Brielle’s phone rang until it went to voice mail. I left a quick message and asked her to call me.

  After I read those cards, it made things even more confusing about Ana and Brielle. I showed Khloe the cards and checks. Khloe did a dramatic performance of what she envisioned happening when I handed over the checks to charity.

  “It’ll be like you combined all of the money,” Khloe said, unable to sit still. “You’ll have a giant cardboard check covered with a red cloth that you’re about to unveil. Even the Thoroughbreds will be watching!”

  I loved her story, even though that was definitely not going to happen. Especially since I didn’t know how to get a giant cardboard check.

  Ack! I’ve rambled forever! Sorry! Almost done—promise! One of the most important things I wanted to write about was Bri and Ana. It feels like we’ve been drifting apart since I’ve been here. The old Ana and the Brielle I knew would have told me about Taylor. Or, on the extremely crazy-slash-ridiculous chance they didn’t, Ana and Bri would have flooded me with BBMs, texts, calls, fireworks to get my attention to explain after Taylor got here.

  If I know my friends, they are probably both feeling guilty, and that could explain the short, zero-details messages. I’d played Ana’s message for Khloe, and that was the one, though, that we were stuck on. Why did Ana suggest I talk to Bri? Is Bri keeping a secret?

  Posted by Lauren Towers

  MAYBE WE SHOULD MICROCHIP TAYLOR

  “DO YOU THINK WE’RE GOING TO SEE HIM?” I asked Khloe. My roomie and I stood in the hallway of Hawthorne early Monday morning.

  Khloe locked our dorm room door and tossed the keys into her bag. “Probably. But remember, I promised to step in and try to help Taylor if I can, if he’s lost or whatever. That will keep things at minimum weirdness between you and Drew. And right now minimum weirdness would be the maximum awesomeness.”

  “Did I mention that I have the best roommate?” I slung an arm across her shoulders as we started to the Hawthorne exit door. “I’m so nervous. Ridiculously nervous. I know that Drew’s not going to be like, ‘I saw you talking to Taylor outside the science building. See ya.’ But this whole thing is just weird!”

  Khloe nodded, flipping her fishtail braid over her shoulder. She’d teased her hair near the crown and had slipped on the skinniest of black headbands. I’d convinced her to secure the braid with a black leather tie. The look was très chic.

  “It’s going to be strange for a while. It just is,” Khloe said. She stopped short of opening the door. “Main goal is that you try to stay focused on two things: One is that you and Drew are together, and keeping your relationship moving forward is most important. And two, you and Taylor are friends. Juuust friends. It doesn’t mean you can’t talk to him and hang out, but just think about how you’d feel if Drew suddenly started hanging with one of his exes-turned-friends.”

  I wiped sweaty palms on the black pants I’d paired with black-and-white oxfords. The shoes were my new obsession. I’d added an ivory cashmere-blend sweater to complete the look.

  “You’re right. Definitely will keep that in mind.” I took a deep breath.

  “Ready?” Khloe put her hand on the door handle.

  “Let’s go.”

  I shivered when we stepped outside. The November air stung my face and hands. Khloe and I huddled together against the cold.

  “At least Mr. Davidson’s class isn’t too far away,” she said through chattering teeth.

  “Or maybe we should have checked the weather this morning and worn coats like everyone else.”

  I tipped my chin ahead of us at the rainbowlike coats that dotted campus. Puffy coats. Wool peacoats. Long coats. Vests. It really looked as though everyone but us had checked their weather app this morning.

  As we neared the English building, I had a sense of Yes! Made it without seeing Tay. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Taylor, but I also wanted to be considerate of Drew’s feelings.

  I walked into Mr. Davidson’s class and took my usual seat. I opened my notebook, going to my pages of notes. My academic planner had Study for Caged Bird midterm! written on every other day’s space.

  Khloe sat at the desk next to me and waved at Clare when she walked into the room.

  “Hey, hey,” Clare said. Her red hair was in a half updo, and long curls cascaded down her back.

  “Love the sweater,” I said. “That shade of green is great with your hair.”

  Clare beamed. “Thank you! I got this on sale from Kohl’s.”

  Her hunter-green sweater was supercute—LOVE was scrawled across the chest in a scripty, gold font.

  Clare sat next to Khloe—the desks were arranged in a large circle—and started unloading her book bag. I went back to my calendar, and there was so much coming up—Parents’ Weekend, Thanksgiving break, midterms, Christmas break—

  “Lauren!”

  I looked up at the voice that had chirped at me.

  Lacey slid into the desk next to me. She dropped her pink bag and wildly pushed her light-brown bangs out of her eyes. Her hair was pulled into the highest ponytail I’d ever seen—one that I couldn’t imagine not getting a headache from.

  “Hi,” I said. “How ar—”

  “Is he in this class? What’s his schedule? We’ve all been trying to guess, and I looked for him everywhere this morning.” Lacey was almost breathless when she’d finished.

  “You mean Taylor?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Um, yeah! Laur, you’re the one with all the info. You’re his ex. Even better—you’re still his friend.”

  I bristled a little at the way Lacey said “friend.” Taylor wasn’t my boyfriend, but I wasn’t exactly ready to give Lacey the 411 on all things Taylor Frost.

  “He’s not in this class,” I said. “And I actually don’t know his full schedule.”

  “You aren’t talking to him?” Lacey asked. She raised an eyebrow like she didn’t believe me.

  “No—I mean yes, I am, but Taylor’s settling into campus and I’m busy with classes, riding, and stuff.”

  Lacey sat back in her seat a little. “Oh. Gotcha. I’ll find out on my own.” Her tone was clipped.

  Before I could even respond, she turned to one of her friends who had just sat next to her. Lacey whispered something and shot me an annoyed look over her shoulder.

  Not wanting to be like Lacey, I took out my phone and typed a BBM.

  Lauren:

  Did u c what Lacey just did?

  Khloe:

  No! What?

  Lauren:

  She was asking me abt Taylor and

  I shoved my phone under my desk and put my gaze on the front of the classroom as Mr. Davidson entered.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he greeted us.

  “Good morning, Mr. Davidson,” we all said back.

  The rest of the forty-five-minute period wasn’t good. At least not for me. Lacey only looked at me once during class, and when she did, her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed together. Her attitude had spread via whispers and under-the-desk texting to almost every other girl in class.

  One by one I got a stare and then a look of disgust from my classmates. I’d never counted down the seconds until a class’s end the way I did in today’s English period.

  Thirty seconds left.

  I tore my eyes away from the second hand on the clock and did something I knew Mr. Davidson hated—I started packing before he finished talking.


  Clare and Khloe had BBMed me during the entire class, telling me not to let Lacey and her friends make me feel bad. We’d been on our phones so much, I couldn’t believe we hadn’t gotten caught.

  I closed my notebook. The lined page was blank except for a date and Notes. I doubted that Khloe and Clare had taken notes either.

  “. . . and that sums up today’s discussion,” Mr. Davidson said as I tuned back in. The blond teacher stood, smiling at us. “We’ll pick up with the final chapter of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings on Wednesday. Heads up—there will be a quiz tomorrow on today’s discussion.”

  Mr. Davidson let his gaze linger on me. Then Khloe. Then Clare. Then Lacey.

  “If you didn’t take notes,” he said, “I hope you’ll be able to borrow a friend’s. See you all tomorrow.”

  Oh, mon Dieu. The way Mr. Davidson had looked at me made me wish I could evaporate. He knew I hadn’t been paying attention, and he was disappointed. Letting down a teacher made me feel awful.

  I gathered my book and notebook into my arms, not even bothering to put them into my backpack. In a daze I bolted for the door, barely avoiding a collision with a classmate. I was not going to let a mean girl make me cry. But even as I repeated that over and over to myself, tears blurred my vision as I waited for Clare and Khloe outside the classroom.

  THIS FEELS LIKE A BAD MOVIE

  BY LUNCH I FELT LIKE I WAS A CHARACTER IN a teen movie. I was the Liked Ten Seconds Ago Girl who had done or said something that caused all of my Used to Like Me Friends to become the Whispering Mean Girls.

  I didn’t look up from my spot at the corner table in the back (very back) of the caf, which Khloe and Clare had chosen. Lexa had joined us, and while everyone else’s lunch trays were almost empty, I’d eaten a forkful of mac ’n’ cheese before pushing away my tray.

  “Lacey was ridic,” Khloe said.

  She, Clare, and I had been giving Lexa the details of the awful English class.

  “I’m just glad that Taylor doesn’t have lunch during our period,” I said. “That sounds so mean, but it would make things harder to have him in the room and want to sit with him but feel like I can’t.”

  “Not because of Lacey, right?” Lexa asked. Her black curls were held away from her face with two rhinestone butterfly clips. The butterflies’ red wings matched the reddish tint in Lexa’s hair.

  “Never,” I said, shaking my head. “Lacey can pout and be mad at me all she wants, but it wouldn’t make me ditch Tay. I was thinking about Drew. It would be awkward to have Taylor sit with us for lunch, and if he had it this period, I’d want him to.”

  Clare took a bite of pumpkin pie. “I told you that I had pre-algebra with him before lunch.”

  Khloe nodded so hard that I thought she’d bounce right off her seat.

  “You dangled that in front of us, Clare Bryant, and that’s all you said!” Khloe pretend-chastised her friend.

  “We sat together,” Clare said. “Our teacher was a few minutes late, so we talked a little.” She smiled at me. “He talked about you, Lauren, and how coming here was the best thing that had ever happened to him.”

  “Did Taylor say he wants Lauren back?” Lexa asked.

  “Yeah, did he?” Khloe asked.

  “Guuuys. Taylor’s not like that,” I said. Then I shifted my eyes to Clare. “Well . . . what did he say?”

  “Taylor was like you told us—totally cool. I asked him a bunch of questions about himself, what he liked to do for fun, et cetera, et cetera.” Clare smiled.

  I felt relieved, even though I knew Taylor wouldn’t kiss and tell.

  “I’m glad he had someone to hang out with during class,” I said. “I know what it felt like to be the newbie.”

  For the rest of lunch my friends shared gossip, made me laugh, and helped take away the sting of Lacey’s behavior.

  “Sorry I missed you at lunch.”

  I finished putting my just-emptied tray on the rack and turned toward the familiar voice.

  Drew, in a red crewneck sweater and jeans, leaned against the wall and smiled at me.

  “Me too,” I said, unable to hold back what I was sure was a silly grin. “I thought you might have switched lunch periods to hang with the cool people.”

  Drew laughed. “I tried that, but Ms. Utz said I had to have lunch this period. Major bummer.”

  I grinned. “Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to catch you at the stable sometime.”

  “Hmmm. That might work out,” Drew said. His blue eyes caught the light as he flicked them to me. “Or we could switch up our workouts if you’re game.”

  Drew and I had been running together on mornings when we were free before school. We’d connected over our mutual love of jogging as a way to clear our heads.

  “Try me, Adams.” I folded my arms, giving him my best bring it on face.

  “Instead of running tomorrow morning, what about swimming? The pool will be deserted, and it’ll be a good change for our muscles.”

  “I’m in,” I said. No hesitation. “I’m being wimpy, since it’s barely November, but I’d rather go swim in a heated indoor pool than jog in the cold that early in the morning.”

  “Done.” Drew smiled, flashing dimples in both cheeks.

  I suddenly realized I’d gone from having my arms folded to hugging myself like a dork. Boys never had that effect on me. Until Drew.

  “Cool. BBM me a time later?” I said.

  “Sure thing. See you at riding.” Drew smiled again before heading to the lunch line.

  I waved and joined Khloe, Clare, and Lexa, who were waiting by the caf exit.

  “Someone looks a little happier,” Clare said, bumping me with her shoulder.

  I had to force myself not to skip toward the door. “I just talked to Drew, and he was so great.”

  “Tell, tell!” Khloe said. “We’re not leaving this cafeteria until you spill, LT.”

  “Mmm, okay,” I said. “If you really want to know . . .”

  Simultaneously my three friends shot me dirty looks.

  I laughed. “Okay! He said he was sorry he’d missed our lunch period.”

  “Awww,” Lexa said with a happy sigh.

  The girls stared at me with wide, round eyes, waiting for me to finish my Boy Story.

  “Then he asked if I wanted to shake up our usual morning runs.”

  Clare stopped mid-gloss, the pink wand hovering above her bottom lip. “Like how?”

  “Like, Drew asked if I wanted to go swimming tomorrow morning instead of running.”

  Clare, Lexa, and Khloe let out ear-piercing squeals.

  “Omigod! Laureeen!” Khloe said. She grabbed my forearm and fanned her face with her other hand.

  “This. Is. Huge,” Lexa said. “That’s Drew’s other thing. He has riding and he has swimming. He wants to introduce you to his other fave thing to do!”

  “I know!” I said. “I’m so excited! I’m so glad I took swimming lessons when I was a kid. My mom made me go when I was little, and I hated it. The pool was always freezing, and the floaty arm things pinched my skin. But after I learned, my parents probably regretted it. I was always begging to go swimming.”

  “You guys,” Clare started. She’d given up on glossing and had tucked the Ulta gloss back into her pocket. “I think you’re forgetting one, oh I don’t know, tiny thing.”

  I couldn’t think of anything . . . . I stared at Khloe, then at Lexa. Both girls shook their heads at me.

  Clare’s cheeks went pink. She leaned closer to us. “You’re going to see Drew . . . with his shirt off!”

  OH, mon Dieu!

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep a squeak from coming out. Lexa and Khloe, though, didn’t even try.

  “Omigod, omigod!” Lexa said. “We can’t talk about this in here! Drew’s getting his lunch. C’mon.”

  Linking arms, we all burst into giggles and scurried toward the door.

  HELLO, GORGEOUS!

  AFTER CLASS I HURRIED BACK TO MY DORM, alone, and
went to change for my riding lesson. Khloe’s advanced class wasn’t until after mine, so she didn’t have to rush back to Hawthorne. She’d gone to meet a group of friends from theater, and they were running lines for Beauty and the Beast.

  Inside my room I dropped my backpack beside my desk and plugged my BlackBerry into the charger.

  I slid out of my school clothes and went to the section of my closet that contained my riding clothes. Layers were key for today to stay warm. Tan breeches. Wool socks. Black tank top. A black-and-gray rugby-stripe sweater and a black toggle coat.

  As I dressed, I thought about Khloe at practice. She’d been prepping for her role as Belle ever since Riley had left campus. Khloe’s theater rival had landed the coveted lead as Belle, and Khloe had been given the part of Mrs. Potts and was Riley’s understudy. It had looked as though Riley would be the one to lead the drama club’s fall production, until a few weeks ago. Without telling anyone, even her so-called best friend Clare, Riley had landed a role on a TV pilot shooting in New York City and had decided to leave Canterwood.

  I had a gut feeling that Riley wouldn’t be the successful actor she strived to be. She didn’t care about acting like Khloe did. Khloe approached acting like she did riding—she cared about the craft, read a zillion books on the topic, and practiced. Riley, on the other hand, had only wanted to be a star. A celebrity. I knew from my time spent around girls like that on the A circuit, who wanted to be superstar riders without really loving the sport, that it could only take them so far.

  I sat at my desk chair, lacing up my boots. On Khloe’s message board she had FIRST PERFORMANCE!!! written in sparkly blue gel pen. The date? One week. Cliché nervous butterflies fluttered in my stomach for my best friend.

  “Okay,” I said aloud. “Time to get out of here.” I unplugged my phone, slipped it into my coat pocket, and shut our door behind me. I walked down the hallway, beautifully decorated for fall with pumpkins, fake leaves, and gourds on the tables. I peeked inside Hawthorne’s dorm monitor Christina’s office as I walked by. She was on the phone, sounding as if she was talking to a parent about Parents’ Weekend activities.