by Box Set
Awesome. I couldn’t wait.
* * *
Emmie and I returned to our room after assembly to log into the Rosewood webmail and get our assignments. She sat on her bed, her laptop across her thighs while I sat at my desk, working on my tablet.
“How did that happen?” she exclaimed, incredulous, but as I glanced over at her, I couldn’t tell if it was good incredulous or bad incredulous.
“What is it?” I asked, still trying to get logged in.
She looked up at me. “They put me in student services. School liaison.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. I still couldn’t tell if she was happy or not, but it sounded better than cleaning pots in the kitchen. At least she probably wouldn’t have to get her hands dirty, although I had a feeling Emmie wouldn’t mind physically digging into a project, as long as she was really helping people.
“It means I’ll be working with my counterpart at Westwood to coordinate events: dances, outings, talent shows.”
The slow smile that spread across her face told me this was a good thing. A very good thing.
She looked back down at her computer. “I told them no special treatment, but you know what? Screw it. I’m okay with this, if it’s thanks to nepotism.”
I wondered if juniors at public schools even know what nepotism means, but for girls at Rosewood, it was a way of life; kids get special treatment just because of who they’re related to. Although to be special and stand out at Rosewood, you had to be the upper crust of the upper crust—like have a building donated by your parents.
“What did you get?” she asked, putting her laptop on her bedspread and scooting to the end of her bed to look over my shoulder.
I finally got into my e-mail and sifted through the several automated e-mails from the registrar’s office about drop and pick, school policies, etc, etc, to find the one with the subject line, ‘CSA: community service assignment’.
Holding my breath, I opened it and scanned for the word ‘stables’ or maybe ‘equestrian center’ but no. I read it from the beginning:
* * *
Dear Ms. Prescott, we are pleased to have you be a part of our award-winning community service program where you will give back to your community through volunteership that will help build skills that will last you a lifetime.
Your assignment is located at: The Rosewood Academy’s state-of-the-art laundry facilities.
Please report to your community service mentor: Mr. Ammaturo
At: The Housekeeping office, Main building, Sub-basement B. Tomorrow at 7:00 p.m.
After which, your scheduled hours of service will be: Monday through Friday, 6:00 -7:30 a.m.
* * *
The crack of dawn? And laundry? Really?
“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Emmie said from behind me. “I don’t know what you did to make the dean hate you, but that’s pretty bad.”
And it only got worse.
The Stables
Twenty minutes later, as I was going over the science syllabus, Emmie came out of the bathroom looking especially cute in her jeans and a sweater. She’d spiked her hair up a little and put on makeup, making her eyes pop. Although I hadn’t met Dave, I had a feeling she was going to knock his socks off.
“You look awesome,” I said as she opened her mouth, undoubtedly to ask what I thought.
Her mouth clamped shut and then she smiled and came over to give me a quick hug around my shoulders. “Thank you, Brooklyn. I’m soooo nervous to see him. I hope he still likes me.”
“Have you lost your mind?” slipped from my lips, making her frown until I hastily added, “You are cute and nice and truly, the most down-to-earth person I’ve ever met. You feed the hungry, clothe the poor and cut your own hair—what’s not to like?”
She smiled sweetly and I stood up out of my chair so I could give her a proper hug. I’d never made friends easily, nor had I ever been a touchy-feely type, but something about Emmie made me feel like I’d met my best friend soul mate.
“You only have one fault,” I said into her ear as I squeezed her tight and then pushed away to look into her eyes. “Your ridiculous modesty. And even that’s endearing.” I rolled my eyes dramatically.
“You are the best,” she said, glancing at my clock. “Shoot, is that the time? I need to run out to the stables; Dave’s going to be waiting for me.”
The stables! I’d completely forgotten to sign up for the equestrian team. I’d meant to go to the office after P.E. but after my shower, all I could focus on was dinner.
“I’ll walk down with you,” I said, hoping maybe they had a sign-up list that I could access after-hours.
We left the room and walked side by side down the hallway to the stairs. “Where are you off to?” Emmie asked.
“To the stables, also.”
She screwed up her face. “Um. Three’s a crowd, you know. Ha, ha.” she said, her laugh not as breezy as I think she intended.
“What?” And then I remembered in that moment that we really didn’t know each other that well and she might think...
“Oh, no!” I said, looking into her eyes, embarrassed that she’d think I’d make myself into a third wheel, and needing to set her straight. “I wasn’t planning to come with you to see Dave. I need to go to the office at the stables so I can sign up for the equestrian team.”
She stopped on the landing, halfway down the stairs, and looked at me for another second. Suddenly, her face broke into a smile and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the same time. “I’m so stupid. See? See how nervous I am?”
I waved her off and started down the stairs. “It’s understandable. You haven’t seen him in months. But I saw his texts; he’s still into you. If anything, probably more than he was. You know what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
Emmie nodded.
We got to the bottom of the stairs and I slid my arm around her. “After tonight, you’ll be back to normal. You have nothing to worry about.”
She started toward the door and noticed I wasn’t following. “Aren’t you coming?”
“No, you go. I need to make a stop first.” Just so she knew I wasn’t going to interrupt or make things any weirder for her and Dave.
“Okay, wish me luck,” she said.
“You don’t need luck, just go. It’ll be fine,” I said.
She ducked out the door and I turned the other way to head into the kitchen. Mealtimes were pretty structured, but there was something of a snack buffet that the girls told me was always stocked, 24-7. I grabbed two apples and a pear, putting them into the front pocket of my hoodie, and arranged a handful of carrot sticks onto a paper towel, rolling it up into a bundle and stuffing it into my pocket.
After a good five minutes of checking out the various types of coffee, sodas and snacks available, I was sure Emmie had enough time to get around to the back of the stable building where her boyfriend awaited her (which, I had to admit, was very romantic). I headed outside and made a beeline for the door, keeping my eyes straight ahead of me, so I wouldn’t see any serendipitous PDAs if they weren’t as hidden as they meant to be.
* * *
The door was unlocked again, so I figured someone was inside. I called out a “Hello?” but got no response, so I entered and turned down the hall toward the office.
One of the horses nickered, and I wondered if it was Sir Lancelot, looking to lure me into a bite. I chuckled, thinking of Brady’s name for him: Sir Bitesalot.
“Sign up first, then I’ll say hello,” I muttered aloud to myself. As expected, the office door was locked up tight, but there was a sign-up form outside, complete with a pen on a string tacked next to it on the bulletin board.
“That’s convenient,” I said. But as I reached for the pen, I heard something: a voice.
And not a horse’s nicker or grunt, either. It was a boy’s voice followed by a girl’s voice. He said something, she responded. Then she laughed. I turned my head toward the voices and realized they w
ere outside.
Emmie and Dave.
They must have been right outside the back wall of the stables, just outside the office. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were obviously reconnecting after their months apart.
I was glad it was going well; Emmie was a really great person and even though I’d just met her, she obviously deserved to have a good guy. A small part of me, the deep, dark part that I would never admit existed, was the tiniest, littlest bit jealous. Sure, not many girls got to go to super-exclusive boarding schools with stables and all the amenities of the rich and famous, but Emmie already had everything. Maybe it seemed like life was too easy for her.
And now that her and Dave were officially an item again, was that going to mean she wouldn’t want to be friends with me?
I mean, I realized we’d just met, but I’d quickly gotten the impression that we were going to be super-close friends—we’d really seemed to connect.
Boys always make things more complicated.
Especially for the single friend.
Not that I wanted Dave to break up with her or anything—not at all. Just maybe, I admitted to myself, I wanted what they had for me, too. Was it too much to ask that a guy notice me and want to hook up with me behind the stables? Two years in London, surrounded by cute guys with British accents and I couldn’t even get a guy to look my way at a school dance, let alone want to date me.
And really, what made me think it would be any different here? At least at my school in London, I’d had the benefit of being somewhat exotic: the American girl. But here, I was nothing but the new girl. At an all-girls’ school.
There was a good chance I’d get to see Will at the dance, but would he be interested? Had he just flirted with me because I was the new girl and had that damsel in distress vibe going on? When I thought of all the other girls at Rosewood, I couldn’t imagine he’d ever be interested in me. Assuming he was even single.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, making me feel even more pathetic.
“Oh that’s rich, Brooklyn,” I said. “Now you’re hosting a pity-party for one in the stables, where even the horses don’t care. Ugh. Nice way to make a fresh start.”
As I stood there, berating myself, Emmie and Dave’s voices got quieter and lower and they seemed to be talking more slowly. Then they stopped altogether. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was straining my ears to hear more. I was suddenly rewarded with the softest of moans.
Oh my God; they’re making out! Not that it should have surprised me, but what was most surprising (and horrifying), was that I was standing there, eavesdropping.
Suddenly feeling like a total perv and the worst friend imaginable, I shook my head, mentally shut my ears and turned my attention to the top of the sign up form so I could get my name on it and get out of earshot:
* * *
Equestrian Team -
Tryouts this Friday, 7:00 a.m. in the indoor arena.
Must be available for practice M-F 6:30 a.m – 8:00 a.m.
& Sundays 7:00 a.m. - 12:00 p.m.
Sign up - one (1) name per slot below:
* * *
I blinked and read it again. Seven a.m.: right in the middle of my Community Service assignment. The one that was non-negotiable and unchangeable.
“Seriously?”
I took a deep breath and read the form a third time, hoping it would change as I read it. Or maybe I’d read it wrong the first two times.
But no.
Everything hit me in that moment and I was suddenly desperately homesick. Even though I didn’t have anywhere that I really called home anymore, I missed my parents and my brother and the comfort of everything going the way I expected it to, even if it wasn’t the life I really wanted. At least it was comfortable and easy and I never got my hopes squashed by a dragon of a dean who I’d never met but who seemed to hate me anyway.
Yep, definitely a pity party, I thought.
I sniffled and wiped my eyes on the cuff of my hoodie.
“Pathetic,” I muttered.
“What’s pathetic?” I heard from behind me, startling me.
I spun around on Brady, pressing my palm to my chest to try to ease my racing heart. “Stop doing that!”
Wearing a navy and green flannel shirt and what appeared to be his signature jeans, he held up his hands in the universal symbol for ‘what did I do?’
“You scared me half to death,” I explained.
He gave me a wide-eyed look. “I could say the same of you. I come in here to lock up and here you are, lurking around. For the second time, I might add.”
“I’m not lurking,” I said, stuffing my hands into my hoodie pockets, reminded of the fruit I’d brought for the horses.
Brady’s eyes glanced down at my belly and he nodded at it. “Are those billiard balls in there or are you happy to see me?”
My face heated up instantly and I’m sure it burned a delightful crimson at his not-so-innocent joke. In answer, I pulled out an apple. “For the horses,” I choked out.
Smooth, Brooklyn.
He gave me a knowing grin and then the smile dissolved as he looked closer, stepping toward me. I began to fidget as it suddenly felt like he was looking right through me. “Hey. Are you okay?”
My first instinct was to nod and wave him off. But apparently he’d asked the perfect question to unlock my mouth, and then words just started falling out.
“No. I’m not okay.” I said, jerking my thumb toward the bulletin board. “I just went to sign up for the team and found out the practices are at the same time as my stupid community service assignment. I won’t be able to join after all. And of course, it’s the one thing at this school I was actually looking forward to.”
Then, because my display wasn’t pathetic enough, tears eked out of my eyes, rolling down my face and I could do nothing to stop them but swipe at them with my hoodie sleeve. Embarrassed, I dropped my head, staring at my shoes, unable to bring myself to look at Brady. I was probably doing him a favor, since he was probably calculating the path of least resistance to get away from me.
“Hey, hey,” he said, from right in front of me, making my head snap up toward him. His stunning amber eyes were intent on mine, concerned.
He reached out as though to touch my shoulder, but hesitated and dropped his arm, shoving his hand into his jeans pocket instead. “It’s okay. You can fix this.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. My friends said the dean never lets people change their assignments, no matter what.”
“No matter what?” he asked.
“That’s what they said.” I wasn’t about to tell him their exact words. Or that Emmie’d called her a dragon; she was Brady’s employer, after all.
“She can be a bit…rigid,” he admitted, the right corner of his mouth twitching up into a tiny smile.
“That’s diplomatic,” I said.
“Generous,” he replied, with a snort.
“I’ve heard she’s a dragon,” I blurted out. And then gasped. So much for not trashing his employer. “Sorry!”
Brady barked out a laugh. “No, don’t apologize. She definitely has dragon-like properties.”
I felt stupid, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Why don’t you sign up,” he said, pointing at the form.
I frowned. “I told you, my assignment…” I broke off because he was shaking his head. “What?”
“I’m sure there’s a way around it.”
I stared at him. If there was a way around it, it wasn’t coming to me, especially with his eyes so focused on mine. Unwavering. Making me blush again for no reason.
Swallowing, I turned away, looking at the paper on the wall. “Do you think Coach Fleming would talk to her?”
“He might.”
I looked back at him. “Really?”
He shrugged. “He’s always looking for good candidates for the team. Especially dressage. And,” he paused to look around, like he was about to tell me a grave secret. My heart
stuttered as he leaned closer, filling my nose with his masculine smell: fifty percent boy, fifty percent tack, one-hundred percent amazing.
He was almost close enough to kiss me, and as if they were hoping it would happen, my eyes drifted down to his mouth. Involuntarily, I leaned forward.
He cleared his throat, snapping my attention back up to his eyes.
“I have it on good authority that the dean has a soft spot for dressage. We’ve had a sub-par team for years, but if we had someone with four blue…”
“Five,” I said, interrupting him. “I have five blue ribbons.” Which was true, but probably wasn’t a good indicator of my skill as much as the lack of skill in anyone else at my old stables.
He nodded, “Five. Like I said: impressive. Leave it with me; I’ll see what I can do.”
I opened my mouth to thank him, when I heard Emmie’s laugh, muffled, but loud enough that Brady would be able to hear it if he was paying attention. One glance at his face told me he hadn’t heard, but it was just a matter of time if we stuck around.
I cleared my throat loudly. “So I have all this fruit and carrots. Can I give it to the horses?”
He pointed at the form again. “Sign up.”
“Right.” I cleared my throat again while I scribbled my name on the form, cursing the pen that decided it didn’t want to write upright. I pretty much scratched my name through the page and quickly turned back to Brady.
“Okay, good to go.” I cleared my throat again to cover Emmie’s giggle. “Sorry. Something in my throat.”
He gave me a weird sideways look, but didn’t say anything more as he led me away from the office and down the hall towards the stalls.
“So, do you ride?” I asked him. It felt like a stupid question; asking the stable boy if he rode, but you never know. And anyway, it filled the weird silence that was stretching between us.