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by Jessica Burkhart

  I grasped the pool-blue beryl stone on my necklace. It was a present from my parents—one I instinctively held whenever I got jittery.

  “Adrenaline pumped through my body,” I continued. “Skyblue moved so well under me. I still don’t know for sure what happened. Maybe he gave me a hint that he was going to refuse the jump and I missed it. Or I did something wrong. I don’t remember.”

  I stopped, lost in thought.

  “Lauren?”

  I blinked back tears and looked at Clare, who’d said my name. I hadn’t noticed that she’d leaned forward from her spot next to Riley, her eyes wide. Khloe had lost her unaffected look; her lips weren’t pressed in a firm line and her brown eyes were soft. But she stayed at her end of the couch.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. My voice was wobbly and thick. Do not cry, I told myself. I hated crying in front of people. “It’s, um”—I took a breath—“a little hard to talk about.”

  “You don’t have to,” Lexa said with a quiet and soothing tone.

  I shook my head, swiping my hand across my eyes. “I want to. We’re all starting to become friends. I’m over secrets. And if you guys are willing to listen, this is actually the first time I’ve wanted to talk about it.”

  The girls nodded. Outside the common room, Hawthorne residents had begun to wake and move around. I wanted to finish talking to my friends before more students joined us in the room.

  “Skyblue and I moved toward the last jump,” I said. “I remember thinking, ‘I’ve got this. Easy.’ But I was being arrogant. I was wrong. That jump—we didn’t have it. Skyblue balked and I wasn’t prepared. I sailed over the jump without him and slammed into the ground.”

  “Oh, Lauren,” Jill said.

  “Your parents must have been terrified,” Riley said. She’d wrapped her arms around her legs, looking tiny in the oversized chair.

  Riley had had one of her own secrets blown apart last night. We’d pushed her during what started out as a friendly game of Truth or Dare, and we’d accidentally made her cry. She’d told us about Toby, her younger brother with Down syndrome. Toby was the only soft spot perfect-slash-prickly Riley seemed to have.

  “Were you injured?” Lexa asked.

  I shook my head. “The hospital sent me home and told me to rest for a few days but to go ahead and ride when I wasn’t sore from the fall.”

  “How long did you wait before riding?” Jill asked.

  “I never rode Skyblue or another horse at Double Aces again,” I said simply. “My mom got a job near Union, we moved there, and then . . .” I smiled. “I started to miss horses.”

  Everyone, even Jill, smiled. Some giggled. These girls knew what it was to miss riding the way I had. They really got it.

  Lexa smiled. “Not easy to get them out of your blood, huh?”

  “No.” I laughed. “It did feel like it got inside my blood. I started to miss horses and riding about as much as I felt terrified at the thought of it. I learned how to ride all over again at Briar Creek. This time, as an equestrian. Not a ribbon collector.”

  “Did you compete there?” Riley asked.

  “Not once,” I said. “I was purely focused on letting go of my fears. Enjoying horses.”

  “How did you get from there to Canterwood?” Lexa asked.

  With each question, it was getting easier to talk. It felt . . . good, in a weird way, to talk to my Canterwood friends about my past.

  “Well, I rode there for a while. Then one day, my instructor brought up Canterwood. Even encouraged me to apply. She assured me that I was ready. And if I wanted to compete, Canterwood was the only place for me.”

  I shifted my gaze from face to face.

  Khloe didn’t look as cold toward me. Lexa’s posture wasn’t so rigid. Even the mood in general felt different—better—than when I’d started. I hoped I wasn’t imagining it.

  I pressed my dry lips together. “I’m sorry I lied to you all.”

  There was a pause, then the sound of someone clearing her throat.

  Khloe.

  “Well, ladies,” she said. “What do we think?”

  3

  DEEPEST,

  DARKEST

  SILENCE.

  And more silence.

  I looked from face to face. Still, no one answered her. I couldn’t believe it! I’d ruined everything. My new friends thought of me as a liar and—

  “Well, you did lie to us,” Lexa said.

  Riley, Clare, Jill, and Khloe nodded.

  “And you have known us a week,” Riley said.

  Lexa, Clare, Jill, and Khloe nodded again.

  I couldn’t believe this. My first week and I’d already royally—

  “A week,” Clare repeated. “As if we’d expect you to spill your deepest, darkest secret in that amount of time!”

  Wait, what?

  Now everyone sported smiles—some even giggled.

  “Lauren,” Jill chimed in. “You barely know us. I get it. I would have been really, really scared to share something like that. It’s pretty awesome of you to trust us the way you just did.”

  “Totally,” Clare said, suddenly beside me. “But”—she slung an arm over my shoulder—“can you please breathe now? It’s freaking us out.” She shook me a little.

  Relief rushed through me like liquid warmth spreading from head to toe. “Thank you, guys. I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d judge me. I even wanted to tell you once.” I looked at Khloe, wanting her to know I’d especially wanted to tell her. “But it’s not the most fun thing to talk about in the whole world—the biggest mistake and most embarrassing moment rolled into one.”

  “Actually,” Lexa said, “I’m sorry you had to keep that secret alone. But, trust me, we all have our Red Oak moments. I mean, Riley and Clare? They—”

  “Are superprivate, too,” Riley cut in, looking murderous. “And, like we said, a week is just not that long, when you think about it.”

  I nodded, glancing at a very pale Clare. Yikes—I had a feeling I wouldn’t want to know this story for another couple of hundred weeks!

  “I know that decision was mine, though, not to be upfront,” I said.

  “So that is that,” Jill said firmly. She took off her black plastic-rimmed glasses and put them on the coffee table in front of her. “So . . . is this something you never want us to bring up again?”

  “I actually don’t mind,” I said, surprised to hear the words coming out of my own mouth. “It gets easier every time I talk about it. And I want you all to feel like, if you want, you can ask any questions you have about any of it.”

  “Well, then . . . ,” Lexa said, a sparkle in her eyes. “About the show circuit . . .”

  “Lex!” Jill reached over and lightly punched her friend’s knee. “Geez! Maybe Lauren, and the rest of us, could use a break for a minute or five. Say for, like, breakfast?”

  “Oops. Sorry,” Lexa said, smiling.

  I smiled back. “I’m here whenever you need me. But now, breakfast, anyone?”

  Riley stage-yawned. “Wish I could, ladies. But duty calls! I’m officially Belle now. I should dash so I can get the full script ASAP. Clare, let’s go back to the room for our stuff so we can get to the theater? You know I need a partner to run lines. I’m sure there’s, like, a ton of them.”

  That was the Riley I knew. “Officially Belle,” as if the part had been hers all along. Like Mr. Barber, the drama advisor, allowed auditions as a mere formality.

  Clare scratched her arm, looking between Khloe and Riley—both of them her BFFs. Clare was so soft-spoken and too nice to say no to a soul—let alone Riley. A fact that Riley was well aware of. I really did feel for sweet little Clare.

  “If you go with Riley, could you pick me up a script?” Khloe asked Clare.

  A look passed between them. Khloe understood and had just given Clare an out.

  “Sure,” Clare said, obviously relieved. She turned to me. “I’m sorry about the DVD, Lauren. But I’m glad you talked to us about it�
��now we get to know more about you.”

  “Thanks, Clare,” I said.

  Riley, waiting at the door, let out an exaggerated sigh. Clare hurried to her side. “Thanks for the fun sleepover,” she said to Khloe and me as she ran after Riley.

  “I’m having a serious coffee craving,” Jill said. “Lex? Same?”

  “You know me oh so well, roomie,” Lexa said. “Let’s caffeinate ourselves, girls.”

  The four of us walked over to the common room’s kitchen and Jill handed each of us a mug. Mine was white with lilac hearts.

  I went ahead and filled the stainless-steel teakettle and put it on the stove, waiting for boiling water.

  “Tea?” I asked Khloe, without even thinking. It had become somewhat of a habit to offer Khloe tea whenever I got my own.

  Khloe put her back to the counter and hopped onto it, scooting back and next to a bowl of bananas, apples, and plums. “Tea sounds perfect.” She shot me a smile.

  I felt very proud. Coffee had been Khloe’s first love, but in just one week I’d gotten her hooked on tea. I just had to tell her that tea had even more caffeine than coffee sometimes—and it came in a ton of yummy flavors.

  Jill and Lexa made their coffees—Lexa’s mug was filled with more milk and sugar than actual coffee.

  Once the teakettle whistled, I poured the steaming water into Khloe’s mug, then mine. I reached into the cabinet where I’d stored my tea stash and held Khloe’s mug out to her. She plucked a packet of Bigelow French Vanilla and a Splenda from the basket.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  I peered at her sneakily. Had it been my imagination, or did she sound sort of . . . standoffish? I had to talk to Khloe alone. ASAP. Her one-word response rattled around in my brain while I dropped a bag of Celestial Seasonings Chamomile into my mug. Was it possible that she really wasn’t okay about the DVD? Khloe was an actress, after all. Maybe she didn’t want the other girls to know, but she was really seriously hurt and disappointed that I, her roommate, had lied to her. Oh, no.

  I put away the tea basket, remembering my Splenda only after I had closed the cabinet door. I didn’t go back for it. Khloe stayed on the counter, which was in the middle of the kitchen. I blew on my tea across from her next to the stove.

  Lexa and Jill grabbed two cheese pastries and put them on pink napkins. Were they sneaking glances at Khloe and me?

  “Oh, shoot, Jill,” Lexa said. “I totally forgot that I have a paper to write this morning. I need books from the library . . . and there’s no way I can carry them all. Want to eat breakfast while we get our stuff from KK and Laur’s room?”

  Okay, now I knew something was up. Shoot? A paper to write Saturday morning?

  “Sure,” Jill said. “We’ll catch up with you guys later. Promise me you’ll do something more exciting than going to the library for research books!”

  Neither Khloe nor I called Jill and Lex on their obvious library lie. They left, and a second later the door opened. A couple of girls I sort of recognized walked inside.

  “Hey, Lauren!” one of the girls, a petite brunette, said. The girl next to her smiled, showing braces with blue bands. “Hi, Khloe!”

  “Hi,” I said.

  Khloe smiled at them. The girls chatted with each other while pouring bowls of Lucky Charms.

  I looked at Khloe tentatively. “Want to take breakfast back to our room?”

  She nodded. “Let’s.”

  I was too nervous that Khloe might hate me to be hungry. I grabbed a blueberry muffin and my tea while Khloe did the same—only she took a cranberry scone. We sidestepped Hawthorne Hall dorm mates as doors opened and girls flooded into the hallway, going up and down the stairs in fuzzy slippers, socks, and bare feet.

  Khloe opened the door to our room and I followed her inside. Everyone’s sleeping bags and clothes were gone. Remnants of last night—nail polish, Japanese candy wrappers, and DVD boxes—were strewn everywhere.

  I shut the door and tried to wait for Khloe to speak first, but I couldn’t keep it in a second longer. I started talking without even putting down my tea and breakfast.

  “Okay,” I said. “You’ve barely said one word to me since we left this room. Please say something. Do you want a new roommate or something?”

  Khloe slowly put her mug and scone down on her desk. “Maybe I do.”

  4

  NOW TELL ME HOW

  YOU REALLY FEEL

  YES, I’D ASKED THE QUESTION. BUT I HADN’T been prepared for that answer.

  Drops of scalding tea splashed over the side of my mug as I put it down with a trembling hand. “You do?”

  “Yup,” Khloe said, her voice and face emotionless. “I totally hate you, Lauren, and I never want to speak to you again.”

  My feet felt as though they’d been cemented to the floor. I was too stunned to even process what she’d said. My mouth dropped open.

  “LT!” Khloe ran up to me and gripped my forearms. “You know me better than that! I’m not going to stop being your friend or roommate because of what you told us.” She pulled me into a hug, then let me go so she could see my face.

  I sucked in a breath so hard, it made me cough. Oh, mon Dieu! Actress Khloe seriously had to work on her timing!

  “You. Scared. Me,” I said, letting myself freak out the way I’d wanted to two minutes ago. “You looked a thousand percent serious in the common room. I thought I’d lost my first and closest Canterwood friend.”

  Khloe took my hand and led me to her bed. We sat cross-legged on her crumpled zebra-print sheets, facing each other. “I’m so sorry!” Khloe said, cringing. “I need to be a teensy bit more sensitive about the acting thing. Note to self: not the right time to try my I-can-do-without-you-and-don’t-even-care character.”

  I rubbed my forehead, wanting to shake Khloe. But I was too relieved that she didn’t really hate me. “Khlo, I want you to know something. As much as it’s going to sound like a convenient coincidence, I really was going to tell you today. You’ve been an amazing friend to me—I knew I could talk to you about Red Oak. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “I buy it.” Khloe nodded. “It doesn’t sound like a cover. Plus, I am totally trustworthy.”

  “I don’t know.” I laughed. “I might need to rethink that one.”

  Khloe stuck out her bottom lip and batted her lashes in a giant pout.

  “Oh, please,” I said. “But seriously, Khlo—how do you feel about everything? I really want to know.”

  Khloe pulled her blond hair over one shoulder. “I’m glad you don’t have to hide it anymore. I understand why you did—I do. If we’d been roommates for, like, years and then you decided to tell me, it would be a little different, you know? But it’s been a week.”

  “I didn’t hurt your feelings?” I asked.

  “Not at all,” Khloe said, pausing for a half second. “I’m honored you wanted to tell me first. Who knew Jill was going to pick that DVD? Hello, complete fluke.”

  “I know!” I said, shaking my head. “I really wish it hadn’t come out like that.”

  Khloe reached for her scone, broke off a piece, and offered it to me. “But at least now it’s over. No more secrets. That has to feel good, right?”

  “You know what? It does,” I said. “I think I’m maybe still in shock, though, too. We went from sleepover to . . . well, that in less than ten seconds.”

  “Oh—I know—go get your tea,” Khloe said. “I know you, LT, and you need some tea to calm you down.”

  I smiled in agreement, then got up to get my mug and breakfast plate. With my back to Khloe, I took a breath. Ninety-nine point nine percent of me believed every word Khloe had said—but I wanted to give it more time. Her feelings were incredibly important to me.

  I sat on my own bed, setting everything on my night-stand. I took a gulp of the now-lukewarm tea and looked at Khloe.

  “I’ve got fifty million questions!” Khloe said. “The only reason you’re going to regret telling me is because I’m go
ing to drive you crazy with all of them.”

  “And we’ve got all day,” I said. The dramatics were very Khloe Kinsella. I was happy to see something familiar about my crazy roommate. “Ask me anything.”

  Her scone now devoured, Khloe fluffed her pillow and settled back, looking as if she was taking my “all day” comment quite literally.

  “How long were you on the show circuit? No, wait—how’d you even get started?” Khloe asked.

  “I rode a pony at a birthday party when I was five,” I said. “And, done—I was totally hooked on horses. My mom talks about that party to this day. She claims that I asked if we could tie one of the ponies behind the car and take it home.”

  Khloe laughed. It was the same happy laugh I’d heard a lot last week. “I would have probably done the same.”

  “Then I pestered my parents until they let me take lessons. They finally enrolled me in beginner classes at Winding Road Stables. It was really close to our house in Syracuse, New York, where I was born. I’m sure my asking five times a day to ride played some part in their decision.”

  “Nah, parents love it when their kids ask for the same thing on repeat,” Khloe teased.

  I smiled, thinking of my first stable. “It didn’t take me long to move up the ranks at Winding Road. I started competing at six and there was no going back. Early on, I showed every few months. As I got older and more experienced, the times between competitions got shorter and shorter. My instructor told my parents that I needed to go beyond regional competitions—start competing around the country.”

  “Wow,” Khloe said. “How did you feel about leaving home?”

  “Excited, mostly,” I said. “All of my friends were riders. Plus, I knew my dad would go with me anywhere I went.”

  “How?” Khloe asked.

  “He’s a writer,” I said. “As long as he had his laptop, he could go anywhere. Mom stayed home with Becca and Charlotte. Sometimes, if she had a free weekend and I wasn’t too far away, she’d bring my sisters. We’d run around the hotel and swim.”