Jealousy

by Jessica Burkhart

  Drew unzipped his jacket and tossed it onto the lowest row of bleachers. “For sure. I’m still going to make you jog with me, though, even when there are three feet of snow on the ground.”

  I tugged off my hoodie and put a hand on my hip. “Excuse me? I never promised to run in the snow!”

  Drew kicked off his sneakers, grinning. “Fine. I won’t ask you to run. We’ll go snowshoeing.”

  I stared at him. “Snowshoeing? You mean that ‘sport’ where people trek through the snow for miles with giant tennis rackets strapped to their feet?”

  “Yep,” Drew said simply. The pool water reflected in his eyes and made them look extra blue.

  “Okay, Adams. Game on. Today, swimming. Next month, snowshoeing.”

  Drew, laughing, headed for the far end of the pool. I watched him walk away shirtless and in long black swim trunks.

  Um. Whoa.

  My bare feet felt stuck to the tile floor. I was in my bathing suit too, and Drew had made it so easy to get undressed in front of him. It had been something I’d worried about since he’d first suggested swimming. I’d been swimming at the lake at home plenty of times with a group of friends from school or riders from Briar Creek, and there were always guys. But I’d never swum alone with a boy before. Part of me had thought I’d get into the pool with my pants and shirt on, but that thought had disappeared the moment I’d met Drew outside.

  I bent my right knee and touched the water with my other foot. Parfait!

  “You’re not getting in at that end, are you, Towers?” Drew called. He was suspended over the pool on a low diving board.

  “You’re diving in?” I asked. “Is it deep enough?”

  Drew dropped his teasing act and nodded. “It’s just over twelve feet deep at this end, so it’s safe. Don’t try to dive in anywhere else, though.”

  “I won’t, trust me.” I walked along the edge of the pool toward Drew. “I don’t know how to dive.”

  “Do you want to learn?” Drew turned, walked off the board, and stopped in front of me. “I could teach you.”

  “I’d love to be able to dive. But my friends have been trying to teach me for years, and I never learned how. I always end up doing a belly flop or jumping straight in.”

  Drew waved his hand. “Belly flops end this morning. By the time we leave the gym, you’ll be diving.”

  A little bit of nerves pulsed through me. “You sure? You came to work out this morning, not play swimming coach.”

  Drew smiled. It was the gentle, soft smile that soothed my nerves. “I’m sure, Laur.” He held out his hand to me. I placed my still chilled hand into his warm one. Tingles! He led me in the direction of the deep end of the pool. “I promise that you’ll be able to add ‘diver’ to your list of skills once we’re done.”

  I reached for my throat to play with my necklace. I was surprised when it wasn’t there. Then I remembered that I’d taken off all my jewelry before coming this morning.

  “We’re not going to start on the diving board,” Drew said. “We’ll start from the edge of the pool, and I’ll do a couple of dives so you can watch my body formation first. Then you can try. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Drew stood straight, raising both arms above his head. “See how my arms are against my ears?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s how you should be. So you’ll stand straight, turn to the pool, and bend at your torso.”

  “That’s the part where I always mess up,” I said, blushing a little. “It always feels like I’m falling into the pool, and it feels like my instincts kick in and my body wants to stop it. That’s why I always end up belly flopping or not even trying at all and just jumping right in.”

  Drew lowered his arms and looked at me. “I understand the fear of falling. Believe me. Even though my brain knows there’s water for me to sink into, there’s always still a tiny voice in my head telling me, ‘Diving? That’s one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard!’ ”

  His story made me laugh. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  “You’re not. I promise. And, Laur? I’m sorry for bringing this up, but I wonder if diving will help you in some way with your accident.”

  I stilled, memories of that awful day flashing a million times per second in front of me.

  “How do you think it could help?” I asked, my voice soft.

  Drew was so close to me, I could smell whatever minty toothpaste he’d used this morning.

  “It might help you get over your fear of falling. You’ve already conquered your fear of falling from horseback by riding again, but who knows? Maybe something different—another fear of falling conquered—would help too.”

  Slowly I shook my head.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Drew asked. His voice was thick with concern.

  “Oh, no! Not at all. I was just thinking how . . .,” I paused, realizing what I was about to say and hoping I didn’t freak him out. “I was thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life. I’m so, so happy we’re together.”

  Drew smiled—a grin that showed off all of his white teeth—and reached out to squeeze my hand. “I think I’m the lucky one. You tell me you’re happy that I’m in your life after we’re finished with diving lessons.”

  Giggling, I nodded. We got to work, not wasting any precious seconds of the morning. I watched Drew perform several dives from the floor, and he taught me what to look for, exactly how to arch my back, when to lean over the water, and when it was time to push off with my toes.

  My first “dive” was a belly flop, and I caused giant waves to ripple through the pool. Drew made me get out and dive again. And again. And again.

  Dripping wet, I walked the well-traveled length to the deep end of the pool. Drew, treading water in the pool, nodded at me. “C’mon, Lauren. You can do it.”

  His words were in my ears as I placed my arms above my head, touching them to my ears. I bent forward slightly, and something kicked in to tell me now was the time to push off the floor with my toes. I bounced off the floor, trying to keep my feet and hands somewhat together. My fingertips hit the water first, followed by my head, torso, and legs. I kicked underwater, driving myself a few feet deeper, then turned right side up and swam to the top.

  I spun around, treading water, and faced Drew. His expression was blank.

  My stomach fell a little. This was the moment when he realized I wasn’t teachable.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it wasn’t perfect. I mean, it wasn’t even close to good. I’m so sorry I wasted your time this morning. We never have to swim together again, and I—”

  “Lauren!” Drew half shouted, interrupting me.

  He swam over to me and treaded water in front of me. “You dove! You dove! You took everything I taught you and applied it to your form and technique. No lie—that was a great dive!”

  “What?” I treaded water, but felt as though I could stay afloat on my own.

  “I’m so proud of you!”

  Words couldn’t describe how I felt. But something else could. I wrapped my arms over Drew’s shoulders, and before I could do it, he kissed me.

  Even in the warm pool, all the hair stood up on my arms. His soft lips on mine made me feel like I’d never been kissed—at least not like this. I forgot to tread water for a second, holding on to him, then remembered I’d probably drown us both if I stopped.

  We pulled apart after a few seconds, and I looked into his eyes. He had this little-boy grin on his face.

  “It seemed appropriate that our first kiss was in the pool,” I said.

  “It would seem appropriate that our second kiss would be too,” Drew said.

  Leaning forward, I kissed my then-without-a-doubt boyfriend for the second time that morning.

  ON MY NERVES

  ONCE RIDING LESSONS WERE OVER, I FELT like I had nowhere to go. I didn’t want to go back to my room yet. Khloe would be there, and Clare had started to apologize since Monday, but I’d been a
voiding her.

  I went to the first place I thought of—the courtyard. It was empty, and I sat on a stone bench, happy for the quiet. The only sounds were of students off in the distance, an occasional whinny, birds chirping as they flew overhead—all noises that blended into the background.

  I don’t know what he’s hiding, I just know that it’s something.

  The words Clare had spoken during the warm-up of our lesson rolled around in my brain.

  Ugh, I told myself. Think of something—anything else.

  I thought about today’s fashion class with Cole. Since the play would begin on Monday, our schedules had changed, and we had fashion class daily. No complaints from me! Cole and I were hard at work creating the best Lumière costume to ever grace the Canterwood theater’s stage.

  We’d decided to keep the concept close to the movie version of Lumière and not to mess with something that was such a beloved classic.

  I blinked, my eyelids feeling a little heavy. In addition to fashion class, practices for glee club were more frequent than normal. We were meeting to practice a song for our parents to show them what we’d learned in glee club. I was a little nervous to perform in front of my family, but also insanely excited. I loved glee, and I hoped Mom, Dad, and Becca saw that when I sang.

  I pulled my charcoal peacoat tighter around me. The temperature was dropping, as the sun had already started to set in the late afternoon.

  I wasn’t being blinded by my friendship with Taylor—Clare had to be wrong. It was annoying that she’d dragged Khloe into the Taylor’s keeping-a-secret theory and even worse that Khloe was starting to agree with her. I knew Taylor better than anyone else here, and I had to trust my gut. Tay wasn’t hiding anything bad. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Everything I knew about him screamed that whatever Clare perceived he was hiding was something I already knew: Mr. Frost.

  Taylor wasn’t the type of guy to talk every time his dad did something that made his life harder. Even though Tay and I were still friends, he’d stopped sharing as much of his dad drama when we’d broken up last summer. Just because we weren’t together didn’t mean Taylor couldn’t talk to me. And he knew that. So why was I sitting on a cold bench trying to shake Clare and Khloe’s concerns?

  My phone chimed, and I pulled it out of my pocket. There was a new BBM.

  Ana:

  Hey, Laur. How’s everything?

  It was like my Union bestie had ESP. Ana knew when I needed her.

  Lauren:

  It’s SO crazy that u wrote me right now. I’m sitting outside mulling over some Tay stuff. Rlly glad 2 hear from u.

  A few seconds passed before Ana wrote back.

  Ana:

  What kind of Taylor stuff?

  Lauren:

  Nothing major. Khloe and my friend Clare think he’s hiding something.

  Ana:

  Do u think he is?

  Lauren:

  No way. It’s TAYLOR. I mean, I have this weird feeling that he’s not telling me something. But I rlly think it’s abt his dad and T doesn’t want 2 overshare and make it awkward btwn us or something.

  I quickly sent a second message.

  Lauren:

  Not that it would. T can always talk 2 me. We’re friends.

  Ana:

  Lauren, I’m sorry u think something’s off. I wish I knew the right thing 2 do.

  It took Ana forever to type that message. The Ana is writing a message note started and stopped flashing about half a dozen times before I got the BBM. She’s probably busy now, I thought.

  Lauren:

  What do u mean? The right thing 2 do? Like whether or not 2 ask T 2 talk 2 me?

  Ana:

  Yeah. Asking him 2 tell u the truth . . .

  I waited while she typed her next message.

  Ana:

  I’m so sorry, but I have 2 go. I know I wrote u and I’m a bad friend for ending our convo when u r having a crisis.

  Lauren:

  Ur not a bad friend, A! And it’s not a crisis—rlly. Just thinking abt what 2 do next. I’m just glad u said hi. Skype soon?

  Ana:

  Definitely. Ur the best, LT. Love u!

  Lauren:

  Love u 2! Xx

  I exited out of BBM, locked my phone, and put it back in my pocket. I wasn’t going to chase down Taylor and bombard him with questions. If he wanted or needed to talk to me, he would.

  Boot heels tapped on the cobblestone, and someone paused behind me. Inwardly I sighed. It had to be Khloe or Clare wanting to talk. I loved them both, but I really wanted to drop the whole Taylor thing.

  I stayed still, my back to whoever it was, and the footsteps approached and I stared at the unfamiliar paddock boots that walked past me, then turned and stopped in front of me.

  I looked up and my breath caught. I’d only read about people’s breaths actually catching. It hadn’t seemed real—until now!

  I stared at a face I’d seen a thousand times.

  On DVDs.

  In photos at Briar Creek.

  On the school Website.

  In the newspaper.

  I stared at a girl I’d heard about a thousand times.

  From Kim, my old riding instructor.

  From Ana and Brielle.

  From Mr. Conner.

  From my new friends.

  From my parents.

  From riders at my old stable.

  A million thoughts zoomed through my brain as I sat there, frozen.

  What is she going to say?

  Why has she stopped in front of me?

  Does she even know who I am?

  Am I sitting on her bench by mistake?

  My outfit! Do I look like a mess in my coat, lilac sweater, and my dark jeans tucked into my boots?

  I was staring at The Legend. The superstar graduate of Briar Creek. The rider I wanted to be like more than anyone in the world. The girl who had left Union and made it. An equestrian who had made it possible for pre-Canterwood me to even dare dream of attending this school.

  Sasha Silver had stopped in front of me.

  Oh, mon Dieu.

  THE LEGENDARY SUPERSTAR

  “HI,” SASHA SAID.

  The older girl looked every bit as polished as her reputation. I stared and stared, taking in every detail about her. Sasha wore army-green breeches with black paddock boots and a wool coat. A tan sweater peeked out from the coat, and she had a horseshoe-shaped ring on her right hand.

  “I’m Sasha Silver,” she continued.

  It was my turn to speak, but I didn’t know if I could.

  “I know,” I said, my voice soft. “You’re the Sasha Silver from Union. From Briar Creek. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Suddenly I felt like I should be standing. I jumped off the bench and stood. I stretched out my hand to Sasha. Hopefully, she didn’t think I was weirdly formal, but shaking her hand felt like the right move.

  I smiled when Sasha immediately stuck out her hand and shook mine. She eyed the bench, and I moved down to one end and Sasha sat at the opposite. We both turned so we faced each other.

  “And I know you, too,” Sasha said.

  No way! Don’t freak out! I said to myself. But !!!!!! Sasha knew my name! I smiled, fighting the urge to (a) dance, (b) BBM all of my friends, and (c) take a video of this moment so I’d believe it was real.

  “I came to visit Briar Creek a long time ago,” Sasha said. “I saw you jumping in a field. Kim told me about you and how great you were.”

  I blushed. A deep, deep red. “Not even close to you,” I said. “Kim never stops talking about you. She uses your story as a way to encourage all of the riders at Briar Creek to look ahead and go for what we want.”

  Sasha, smiling, looked at her lap and then back at me.

  “And you wanted to come to Canterwood?”

  I nodded, playing with an edge of the case of my phone. “More than anything,” I said. I gave her a tiny smile. “It’s terrifying, but I have to try.”

  Sasha
looked at me like she was studying me. I felt like I saw a million thoughts flash through her brain as she got a far-off look in her eyes. I wondered if she was thinking about her own journey. From everything I’d heard, Sasha’s experience from Briar Creek to Canterwood hadn’t been without ups and downs, but that made it all the more inspiring.

  Sasha reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her BlackBerry.

  “Here,” she said. She held her phone out to me. “Put your number in my phone. Text me if you need anything, get lost, overwhelmed—whatever. You can talk to me anytime.”

  I grinned like an idiot. Getting Sasha Silver’s number was like I’d gotten an A-list celeb’s number. “Really?” I asked.

  Sasha nodded, still holding out the phone.

  “That’s so nice of you,” I said. “You have no idea how much less nervous that makes me feel.”

  I added myself as a contact to Sasha’s address book. It took me three times as long to type the message—my fingers kept hitting all the wrong keys because they were shaking.

  Sasha took her phone when I offered it back to her. My own phone beeped with a text from Sasha. Now I had her number.

  “Good,” she said, pulling a Lip Smackers from her pocket. “And seriously. Anytime.” She applied a coat of shiny, berry-tinted Dr Pepper gloss. I smiled to myself—the rumors of Sasha’s lip gloss addiction were definitely true.

  Sasha smiled, gave me a small wave, and headed out of the courtyard.

  I forced myself to sit on the bench until I was a thousand percent sure that Sasha was gone. Then I stood and hurried to Hawthorne at a flat-out run to tell Khloe everything.

  After I told Khloe about meeting The Famous Sasha Silver and we analyzed every detail of the conversation, Khloe got a serious look on her face.

  “Laur, I want to apologize about the Taylor sitch,” Khloe said.

  We were sitting cross-legged on our fluffy carpet, facing each other.

  “I talked to Clare, and we both agreed we were totally wrong,” Khloe continued. “You know Taylor better than us, and we should have listened to you. I trust you implicitly, and I should have trusted your instincts. I’m sorry.”

  I looked into Khloe’s brown eyes and saw the regret. I couldn’t hold this against her.