Cole shook his head, rolling his eyes in what I knew was pretend annoyance, and gathered our trash. “BBM me when he asks you out.”
14
FORGIVE AND FORGET
LUNCH PERIOD CAME FAST TODAY, I THOUGHT, heading into the caf. Today had been going so much better than yesterday. I’d been on my game from the second I’d woken up. First period until now had been smooth, and I wondered if my talks with Cole and Ana had something to do with it.
Last night, I’d Skyped with Ana for half an hour. Almost the entire time I’d known her, Ana had been anti-boyfriend. An artist, she wanted to concentrate on drawing and riding. She didn’t want to spend time on guys. Brielle and I had been different. We’d both been boy crazy, and we could talk about cute guys for hours. Ana would sketch on whatever scrap of paper was in reach when Bri and I started dishing about guys.
The Ana I’d talked to last night, though, was the same artsy Ana but with a boyfriend. She and Jeremy, a très cute boy at Yates, had been dating since the end-of-school dance. Ana updated me about her relationship status (awesome!), school (too much homework), Brielle (busy), and art (trying oil painting). She’d been very, no, extremely encouraging of the idea of Drew. Pre-Jeremy Ana would have given me the opposite advice. Ana had been so upbeat about Drew that I hadn’t wanted to stop talking about him. I’d pushed my Khloe worries aside and hadn’t said a word.
I’d been packing my book bag last night when Khloe had come in from Clare’s. During the hours of homework, I’d thought about the Khloe and Zack date thing. Khloe wasn’t the type of girl to keep anything to herself. If she was mad at me because I hadn’t told her about Red Oak sooner, she’d tell me. For the hundredth time, I reached the same conclusion. I was tired and overthinking things. When Khloe had gotten settled, I’d plopped next to her in front of the TV and asked if I could tell her about my chat with Cole. The talk had immediately turned to Drew, and Khloe had squealed so loudly that I waited for Christina to come in and point out that it was way past lights-out.
This morning, Khloe had a perma-grin on her face whenever I said the D-word and had been BBMing me every class to see if I’d run into him in the hallway. She’d also given my outfit the Khloe Kinsella SOA (seal of approval.) I’d paired dark brown knee-high boots with skinny jeans and a button-down peach-colored shirt. Silver hoops, wavy hair, and a spritz of Vera Wang’s Princess perfume, something I saved for special occasions, and I was set.
“KK!” I called, seeing Khloe start into the caf. Her shiny blond hair was in a low ponytail secured with a hot pink elastic. She’d paired an electric blue T-shirt with boot-cut whiskered jeans and a pair of my ballet flats. Definite SOA.
“Hey,” Khloe said, linking her free arm through mine. “I’m starving!”
“Me too. I’m getting two sandwiches, I swear!”
“So, you haven’t seen him at all?” Khloe’s voice was a stage whisper.
“No!” I whispered back. “But maybe I’ll see him during lunch. If not, riding for sure.”
Khloe pouted. “You have to see him before riding. This outfit is so amaze. You look cute in breeches, too, but I want Drew to see you in this outfit. Like, now!”
I laughed. “I kind of do too. And what about you? How much Zack spotting since last time we BBMed?”
Khloe paused, her hand hovering above the soda selections. “Zero.” She grabbed a Dr Pepper. “So. Tragic.”
I hid a smile. “Very tragic, K. I’m sorry you haven’t seen him. But we need girl time to get you ready for your date. When we sit down, we’ll start a list from hair masks to predate facials and makeup.”
Khloe brightened. “Really? Omigod, I would love that.”
We filled our trays with honey-roasted turkey sandwiches on wheat bread, scoops of macaroni, and slices of apple pie. I went back and grabbed a bottle of water, then we swiped our meal cards.
We stepped into the sunny caf. Tables of various shapes fit the ginormous room like a jigsaw puzzle. Clare and Riley were in the middle with two girls that I sort of recognized from Hawthorne. Another girl walked over and sat down. Riley, in a capped-sleeve red dress with a skinny black belt, was the clear leader. I glanced at Khloe, seeing she’d noticed too.
“Is Riley building an army?” I joked.
“Wouldn’t doubt it.” Khloe’s tone was flat. “At the very least she’s building a collection of friends. Destination: the top of the popularity chain. I’m using the word ‘friends’ loosely.”
“Gross.”
We weaved around the other tables and I kept my chin up, trying not to make it obvious that I was looking for Drew. He wasn’t with the guys sitting along the far wall. I didn’t see him at the tables under the windows. The swim team—nope. He—
“Laaauuren,” Khloe said, grinning. “I highly recommend you scout the room for Drew once you’ve put down your lunch tray. Otherwise, you’re going to end up with macaroni stains down your shirt.”
I jerked my gaze away from the windows. “I was just checking!” I said, my voice octaves higher than normal. Ugh! I hated this! This was so not me. I didn’t get tongue-tied or flustered around guys. The last thing I wanted was to turn into one of those guy-obsessed giggly girls who twirled their hair and thought acting dumb was cute.
“Check once you’re seated.” Khloe placed her tray on a table for four next to a window facing the tennis courts. I set my tray across from her.
“Thanks,” I said. “I def didn’t want Drew to see me in a cute outfit covered with cheese and apple pie.”
Khloe smiled, flashing the signature beyond-happy smile that I loved. “Just fulfilling my role as new best friend and roomie. Plus, I have to, you know, live with you. I can’t have the sitcom moment happen where Teen Girl spills food on herself in front of Crush.”
“Oh? And that impacts you how?” I took a bite of the ultracheesy macaroni, smiling.
Khloe leaned back in her chair, precariously balancing it on its back legs before setting it back down. “Oh, new Canterwood girl. It’s roommate code. What one roomie does reflects on the other. If you’d, say, tripped just then, it would have been like me tripping.”
“Really?” I loved playing with Khloe and hearing her wild ideas.
“Really. Your near macaroni stains are my near macaroni stains.”
I couldn’t help it—I giggled. Khloe shot me a death slash this really is funny look. She stuck her nose in the air and took a dainty sip of her soda.
“I certainly don’t want to be a bad roommate. I’ll look that up in the handbook tonight,” I said.
Khloe gave me a satisfied smile. “And my job here is done.”
We both burst into giggles. Looking at Khloe, smiling and laughing with me, I couldn’t believe how off base I’d been. This was perfect, and our friendship was getting better by the day. I needed to stop going back over things and take in the present.
“How’s Beauty and the Beast going?” I asked.
“Really well,” Khloe said. “I checked out a bunch of different versions of the book from the library, did some Internet reading on Mrs. Potts, and have been hitting my lines during rehearsal.”
“I’m so proud of you. I can’t wait to see the performance. How many nights will it run?”
“Four,” Khloe said. “It starts just before Thanksgiving break.”
“When tickets are for sale, tell me,” I said. “I’m coming to every show.”
Khloe dropped her fork. Her brown eyes widened and she stared at me. “Lauren. Oh, my God. No.” She shook her head. “No way. It’s a big enough deal that you’re coming to one. You so don’t have to do that!”
“I know,” I said. “No one’s making me. I want to support my bestie and roomie. You’re going to steal the show and I wouldn’t miss one night.”
Khloe looked down at her tray. She didn’t say a word. Not Khloe Kinsella–like behavior. Khloe always had something to say.
“Khlo?” I reached across the table and touched her elbow. “I didn’t think
to ask. Is it okay with you that I come? I’m sorry if I just assumed . . .”
Khloe met my eyes and, for the first time since I’d met her, Khloe’s eyes were pink. “No, no. Laur, I want you there. It means . . . you have no idea how much it means to me. I was thrilled that you were coming on opening night, but with you being there for every performance—no one’s ever done that for me.”
I wanted to hug her. “Oh, Khlo. It’s not just about being there for support. I want you to know how seriously I take your acting career. No matter what role you have in this play and future ones, I’m coming to all of the performances. I’ll be handing out flyers in all of my classes and telling everyone that my roommate, an incredibly talented actress, is onstage and they better see her before she hits LA or New York City.”
A tear dripped onto Khloe’s tray. Quickly, she brushed her cheek with her hand. Supporting her was more important than I’d realized. When I’d first met Lexa and she’d given me the lowdown on Khloe, she’d told me that Khloe never cried.
“Hey,” I said, taking her hand. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. I want to help you every step with this. I’m no actress, but I’ll run lines, practice blocking with you—whatever you need.”
Khloe squeezed my hand. “You’re the best. I’ve never had a friend take my acting this seriously.” She wiped her cheek again, smiling. “Now I really want to impress you on stage.”
“I’m not worried. I know you’ll kill it.”
“I’m definitely taking you up on the offer for help,” Khloe said. “I’d love to practice with you. And, if there’s anything I can do in return, tell me and it’s done.”
We let go of each other’s hands and I picked up my sandwich. “I’ll let you know. It may be tracking down Drew.”
We fell into an easy chatter, eating and ignoring the other students. I forgot about time and future classes and let myself fall into my conversation with Khloe.
“Wait, wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “Clare told you what last night?”
Khloe looked over my shoulder. “Checking to be sure Riley hadn’t sneaked closer,” she explained. “Clare said that Riley’s been talking about you and Red Oak a lot. Apparently, she really feels for you. Like, she connected with you sharing something big since she shared her secret about Toby.”
I shook my head. “Not totally buying it. You?”
“Not for a second.” Khloe ate the last bite of her sandwich. “I think Riley’s popularity—what little she had—is sinking. Not many people ever liked her. She only thought they did because they hung out with her. But it was because of fear. Riley sees you as this girl who stepped in to Canterwood, was immediately popular, and has this stellar riding background.”
“And?” I was confused.
“And she wants to keep her public snark at you to a minimum so people assume you guys are friends. It’ll make her popular by association. Maybe she thinks you’ll forgive and forget.”
I took a sip of water. “Not happening. She’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to become best friends with your arch nemesis. Plus, she hated me until she found out about Red Oak.”
Before Khloe could respond, three guys slid into Khloe’s side of the booth and three stood at the end of our table. They held lunch trays or put them on our table.
“Khloe,” the guy sitting next to her said. “Now we know where you’ve been. Hanging out with your cute new roomie. Way to hold out on us.”
“Shawn!” Khloe shoved his arm, giggling. “Way to barge into a conversation.”
Shawn and the other guys smiled at me.
“Going to introduce her, or do we have to guess her name?” one of the guys who stood asked. He had a mass of dark curls.
Khloe shook her head. “Right. Sorry. Guys, this is Lauren Towers. Lauren, these are my friends . . .”
Khloe stopped short of introducing them. Their eyes were on her, expectant and waiting.
Shawn reached across the table and shook my hand. His honey-brown eyes locked with mine. “I’m Shawn, like Khloe said. These are my friends Michael, Travis, Robb, Todd, and Corey.”
“How do you know Khloe?” I asked. I’d seen her wave at some of the guys in the halls, but I didn’t know they were friends-friends.
“Can’t even remember,” Michael said, shaking his blond head. “We live in Blackwell, and I think we met Khloe in different classes last year. She’s like an honorary member of Blackwell.”
Across the table talkative Khloe from minutes earlier was silent. She was focused on her tray, moving around the last bite of apple pie. If these guys were her friends, why hadn’t she mentioned me at all?
“Cool,” I said. “Khloe and I are really good friends. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t know how to do anything at Canterwood. She’s taught me everything I know.”
I waited for Khloe to interject. Maybe she’d tell them the story of how she’d introduced herself to me. That was a Khloe classic.
“Oh, yeah?” Shawn asked, his green-gray eyes on my face. “Khloe’s good about that stuff. If she’s not available sometime, I’d be happy to help you.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Where are you from?” Michael asked, leaning on the table and plucking a chili cheese fry from his plate.
“Union,” I said. “I came here for the riding team.”
The guys nodded. “I’ve seen people practicing,” Shawn said. “Do you have a horse?”
I smiled. “Her name’s Whisper. We do everything, but dressage is my favorite.”
“Dressage is like that really fancy one, right?” Michael asked. He took a sip of Khloe’s Dr Pepper.
“Yep. You guys into sports?” If they were Khloe’s friends, I wanted to get to know them. I couldn’t have expected her to have told every person she knew about me.
Each guy nodded. Most replied with football, basketball, or lacrosse.
I looked at Khloe, who was still quiet. She pushed a button on her phone. “Sorry, guys. I’ve got to bail. The bell’s going to ring any second.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said. “I’m done.”
“That’s okay.” Khloe stood, and the boys moved out of her way. “I forgot that I have to catch Riley and ask her some stuff about the play.”
“Oh. Okay. BBM you later.”
Khloe flashed me and the guys a smile. “Later.”
Since we had the same lunch period, we always left together. The guys settled into our booth and started eating their lunches, continuing their line of questions. They were all nice, but Khloe had just bolted, leaving me with guys I didn’t know. Guys I’d have to excuse myself in front of two seconds after Khloe had left.
“Nice to meet you, guys,” I said. “I’m going to pull the lame-but-true card and head to class so I’m not late.”
“We’ll give you a pass this time,” Shawn said. The rest of the guys smiled. I gathered my stuff and left, passing Riley’s empty table.
Once I was outside of the caf, I took a breath. What had just happened? If Khloe had an upcoming convo with Riley, we totally would have mocked it all through lunch. There’s no way she could have forgotten about it. Something didn’t feel right. Sure, it really wasn’t realistic to expect Khloe to introduce me to every person she knew at Canterwood. But those guys seemed like fairly close friends. I hadn’t come up once? Not even, “Oh, I got a new roommate named Lauren.” Those guys hadn’t even known my name.
I typed a BBM to Lexa.
Lauren:
Want 2 groom/tack up 2gether b4 lesson?
I reached Mme. Lafleur’s French class when my phone vibrated.
Lexa:
Totally! Know ur @ French so “Good luck” however the French say it, lol.
I smiled and walked into class, sitting a few seats away from Riley. The Beauty and the Beast script was open on her desk, her lines highlighted. Her French book? Nowhere in sight.
My phone buzzed. I reached down to turn it off. Mme. Lafleur had batlike sonic hearing. But she wasn�
�t here yet. I opened BBM and there was a message from Riley.
Riley:
Bonjour! Sry I had to steal ur bestie aftr lunch. But it looked like u had plenty of company.
Lauren:
No big. Those were K’s friends. I heard the play’s going well.
I wanted to change the subject, and I knew she’d talk endlessly about herself and the play until I could wriggle out of the convo.
Riley:
OH—the play is awesome! Mr. Barber thinks this could be THE play that gets me noticed.
Lauren:
Cool. I heard ur all working hard, so GL.
Mme. Lafleur walked, rather glided, into the room and sat at her desk. She looked elegant—her shiny brown hair in a chignon and her gray-green eyes lightly rimmed with kohl. She didn’t take attendance every day. So, if we decided to skip class, it was a gamble if we’d get caught or not. Today she put her attendance book aside.
“Bonjour,” Mme. Lafleur said.
“Bonjour, Madame Lafleur,” we responded.
“Today, we’re going to start on page twenty-four in your textbook. Please open to that page and take out a notebook and pen.”
I did as instructed and didn’t glance in Riley’s direction. The drama outside the classroom slipped from my mind as I focused on French. I truly loved the language. It was romantic and beautiful. I daydreamed about being fluent and traveling to Paris as a college fashion intern. I envisioned eating an almond croissant at a tiny café, grabbing coffee to go, and walking into an office at Chanel.
Stop, Lauren! Geez! I scolded myself. If I let myself go as far as thinking about clothes, I’d never get my attention back.
I turned to page twenty-four and became absorbed by the lesson. Mme. Lafleur talked with us about how many different countries spoke French and how each of those had their own take on the language. If I paid attention now, it would all be worth it if I ever applied for my dream internship.
15
TRUST YOUR GUT
LEXA AND I BUMPED INTO EACH OTHER ON the way to the stable. She looked sleek, with black breeches tucked into shiny black boots and a rust-colored shirt with satin ruching on the neckline.
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