Jill stared at Khloe’s screen. “This. Is. So. Perfect!” She handed it back to Khloe and all of our eyes followed the phone.
Through squinted eyes, Khloe peeked. “Nooo!” Her face reddened and she slapped a hand over her forehead.
“Who is it?” Lexa asked.
“Tell!” I said.
Khloe lowered her head. “It’s . . . Zack.”
“Zack, as in the Zack that you and Lex were freaking out over when he talked to me on Monday?” I asked.
“Yes,” Khloe mumbled. She held the phone facedown.
“Why do you have Zack’s number?” Riley asked.
“Because we’re science partners,” Khloe said.
“Doesn’t matter!” Clare said. “Send it.”
“Guys . . .” Khloe made puppy eyes at us.
“We’re waiting,” Lexa said, smiling.
Khloe rolled her eyes then pressed a couple of buttons on her phone. “Zack’s going to think I’m so weird for sending him this. It’ll ruin my reputation forever with boys here and I won’t ever go on a date, I’ll end up going to senior prom alone and—”
“Senior prom?” I asked, giggling. “If we have to, we’ll worry about getting you a date for seventh grade, okay?”
Khloe held out the phone, a check mark next to the photo and Zack’s name. “There. Thanks, Lex.” She tossed a Hello Kitty gummy at her friend.
“My turn,” Khloe said. “Lauren. Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I said, eating a pretzel stick.
“If your ex came to campus, would you date him or keep your options open?” Khloe asked.
“Ex?” Clare asked. “I didn’t know you had an ex! Why you did you break up? I so need details!”
Khloe glanced at me. “We’re playing truth or dare, Clare, not spill your guts. Ask Laur later.”
I’d thank Khloe later for saving me from retelling my Taylor story.
“If he came to Canterwood,” I said. “I don’t know what I’d do, honestly. It’s only my first week here and I’m not looking for guys, but there are definitely some hot ones.”
“Okay,” Khloe said. She tugged at the end of her French braid. “Your turn.”
“Riley,” I said.
Riley tossed a few M&M’s into her mouth. “Dare.”
Exactly what I’d been hoping for. Clare may have been too scared to ask about Riley’s mystery caller, but I wasn’t. I thought about the day I’d heard her in the stable and how there wasn’t any other possible question to ask.
“Show us the last call on your phone,” I said. “The one who just called. I want to know who your mystery person is.”
Riley’s hand went to her phone, clutching it. She locked eyes with me—like she could scare me into taking it back.
“Riles!” Clare said. “Omigod, I thought you had a secret boyfriend, but now I’m totally sure!”
“Clare,” Riley’s tone was warning.
“Is he someone we both liked and that’s why you didn’t tell me?” Clare continued.
“Show us, Riley,” Jill said. “The game was your idea.”
With a cool look, Riley played with her phone and handed it to me.
“There,” she said.
“Toby,” I read aloud, handing her back the phone.
“Toby?” Jill said as she, Lexa, Clare, and Khloe looked at each other.
“I can’t think of one guy in our class named Toby,” Khloe said. “Oooh, is he older? Like, in eighth grade or high school?”
Riley pressed her lips together. I’d never seen her like this. Something was off. Why wouldn’t she say who it was?
Clare elbowed her best friend. “I’m your BFF. Tell me. We all promise,” Clare looked at each of us. “not to tell anyone outside of this room.”
“It’s okay, Riley,” I said, using the patronizing tone she’d perfected. “You don’t have to share anything. I mean, there must be a good reason why you want to keep Toby a secret.”
“Yeah,” Lexa said. “If he is your secret boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Riley yelled.
We stared at her, afraid to move. I don’t think anyone was breathing. Riley’s outburst had silenced the room. Even the TV seemed quieter.
“Never mind,” Clare said quietly. “You don’t have to tell.”
“No, you all want to know so bad,” Riley’s voice hovered a notch below yelling. “I’ll tell you exactly who Toby is. I love Toby so much.”
So he was her . . .
“Toby is my little brother. He has Down syndrome. Those secret phone calls to my ‘boyfriend’ were to my parents about my brother. Or my brother calling me.”
Oh, my God. This was all my fault.
“Riley, I’m so sorry,” I said. “You don’t have to say anything else. We never should have pushed you. I’m sorry I asked the question.”
A tear ran down Riley’s face and she swiped it away with her hand. “You know who’s sorry, Lauren?I am. You know who should be the one apologizing? I should. To my brother.”
Clare eased next to Riley and, tentatively, put an arm across her shoulders. Riley didn’t shrug Clare off.
“When I left my old school to come to Canterwood, I also left Toby,” Riley continued. It was as if she couldn’t stop talking. Like she needed to tell someone. Like the secret had been too much to hide alone. I empathized with her more than she knew.
“Last year, my mom called and said Toby was being teased by some kids in his class,” Riley said, more tears falling. “It was my fault. I’d always been there to protect him from those stupid kids who didn’t understand. I told Mom that I wanted to come home, but she said no. Toby wouldn’t want me to.”
“I bet your mom was right,” Khloe said, her voice soft. The rest of us nodded.
“I went home last summer and spent tons of time with Toby. We went to the arcade, bowled, and I took him to the water park. I don’t care if it sounds lame, but he’s fun to be with and he’s my friend, too.”
“It’s not lame,” I said. “My sister is one of my best friends. Toby sounds like a special kid.”
Riley smiled. “He is. He has friends at school, gets awesome grades, and loves baseball. This year, he entered fifth grade. At first, my mom kept telling me that everything was fine with him. My dad said the same thing. And Toby . . . he was so cheerful and happy just to talk to me every time I called.”
No one interrupted. Riley needed this. I was embarrassed that I’d eavesdropped on her at the stable. The conversation had obviously been about Toby.
“Finally, my mom told me the truth. She said the teasing had escalated. Toby came home crying more than once. That wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there. If I still lived at home, I’d be at the same school as Toby and even if I hadn’t been there when those jerks teased him, I would have been there to comfort him.”
Riley sniffled and Clare handed her another tissue.
“You’re a good big sister,” Jill said. “He’ll always see you as his protector. I bet Toby wouldn’t want you to give up your dream. I can’t imagine how you must feel, being here and knowing what he’s going through.”
“You’re talking to him,” Lexa said. “You guys should Skype—I bet he’d loved that.”
Lexa’s suggestion made Riley smile. “He would. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”
I hesitated, wondering if I should ask. “How is Toby? Is everything okay?”
Riley nodded. “Everything’s great, actually. I always assume something’s wrong when he calls, but he wanted to tell me that he was having a sleepover tonight with two boys in his class.”
“That’s awesome,” I said.
“So cool,” Lexa said. “Did you tell him that his big sis was at a sleepover, too?”
“I did,” Riley said. “I told him we were going to watch a girly movie and he said ‘eww’ and laughed a lot.”
Someone knocked at the door and Khloe jumped up to open it.
“Pizza, anyone?�
�� Christina asked, holding our delivery.
“Thank you,” Khloe said. “Want a slice?”
“You know what? Sure,” Christina said. “That’s really sweet.”
Christina picked out a piece of pepperoni pizza and a napkin. “Have fun, girls,” she said as she left.
I passed out purple paper plates and matching napkins. We all took slices of pizza and no one made a move to start the movie. Instead, we fell into a conversation about our families. Jill lightened the mood by sharing a hilarious story about a family vacay gone seriously wrong when her dad, deciding to go GPS free, had driven one hundred miles in the wrong direction on a trip to the Smokey Mountains. Khloe talked about her twin sisters and how they always pulled the switching act on her.
By 2:00 a.m., the game of truth or dare seemed long forgotten. Colorful sleeping bags were spread all over the floor and we were losing the fight to stay awake.
Riley, Clare, and Jill were already snuggled into their sleeping bags.
“G’night,” Khloe said to Lexa.
“Night, guys,” Lexa whispered, her voice heavy with sleep.
I slipped under my cool covers and Khloe hit the light, bathing the room in darkness.
REALITY LT
“GUYS, WAKE UP! OMIGOD!”
I sat up, my heart pounding. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my vision fuzzy. It was just after eight.
Riley stood next to her sleeping bag, clutching her phone to her chest. Lexa, Jill, and Clare sat up in their sleeping bags, blinking and rubbing their eyes.
“Nothing’s wrong!” Riley said. She seemed like she’d already had five cups of coffee. “The casting e-mail went out!”
That woke Khloe up. “What ? It’s out? Like, now now?” Khloe reached for her phone.
I gripped my covers, nervous for Khloe. Either Riley didn’t get the lead and she was acting cool, pretending she never wanted it, or . . .
Khloe stared at her screen for a second before putting the phone on her desk. She looked at Riley and smiled.
I knew that smile.
She didn’t get it.
“Congratulations,” Khloe said, smiling at Riley with admirable grace. “You’ll make a great Belle.”
“I know! I worked so hard for that part. Oh—I know you did your best, Khloe. And I’m sure you’ll make a great Mrs. Potts—she has a lot of lines.”
Riley, however, could have learned a thing or twelve about grace—from Khloe.
“Thanks,” Khloe said. “I really do love that character.”
“Me too,” I piped up. “We’re going to have the best time running lines together.” I flashed her a smile, making sure that it was a Yay, fun! smile, rather than a you poor thing—maybe it’ll feel better later smile.
“And don’t even worry about that weird, heavy costume,” Riley said. “Maybe you can do strength training before opening night.”
And on that note . . .
“Congratulations to both of you,” I said. “I love Beauty and the Beast. I can’t wait to see you onstage.”
Riley, Clare, Jill, and Lex congratulated Riley and Khloe. I caught Khloe’s eye and she did not look happy.
I didn’t want to stay in the room any longer and give Riley a chance to brag about being Belle. Khloe needed a distraction.
“I’m starving,” I said. “Anybody interested in staying in our pj’s, having breakfast in the common room, and watching something awesome on TV?”
“I’m in,” Clare said.
Everyone started to get up, stretching, brushing hair, re-doing ponytails.
Riley had an annoying perma-gloat about her.
Khloe acted as cheerful as she’d been last night, but when she turned away from the group, her eyes were downcast. Khloe had worked so hard. She deserved to play Belle.
“Since we have two very talented actresses in our midst,” I said. “Who were just cast in huge roles in the musical . . . I think we should get dessert with breakfast. Anyone else in?”
“Hmmm, let me think . . . ,” Lexa said, grinning. “Hello, ice cream sundae!”
Clare nodded, putting on fuzzy orange slippers. “I wouldn’t hate starting Saturday morning with a brownie.”
Khloe shot me a real smile. “Dessert sounds perfect. Good idea, LT.”
“I think we should spring for Riley’s and Khloe’s desserts,” Jill said. “One condition, when you’re both famous and making millions, both of you’ll remember this moment and send me killer presents.”
Riley and Khloe laughed.
“Aaand,” Jill continued. “I was thinking . . . I don’t know much about horses and you’re all riders. Should we watch a horse show DVD or something? Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two.”
Jill was being a great friend to Khloe by helping to cheer her up.
“Oh, Jill,” Khloe said, slinging an arm across the girl’s shoulder. “You never should have opened that door. We might subject you to an entire morning of horse shows.”
The second we started out the door, someone’s phone rang.
“That’s mine,” I said, heading toward my nightstand. “It’s my mom. If I don’t get it, she’ll worry. You guys go ahead and start the DVD. I’ll be right there!”
The girls nodded, closing the door behind them.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered.
“Hi, honey. How’s your Saturday?”
I sat at the end of my bed. “Great. Khloe and I had a sleepover last night. We’re about to have breakfast and watch a DVD.”
“Sounds fun!” Mom said. “Oh, sweetie, I’m glad you’re making friends. You always do, don’t you? No matter where you are.”
“What are you, Dad, and Becs doing?” I asked.
“The usual,” Mom said. “Dad’s on the porch with coffee and the paper, I doubt we’ll see Becca before noon, and I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on.”
“Sounds like a really nice morning,” I said.
Saturday mornings were good at home. I could picture everything Mom had described. It made me suddenly feel very homesick just thinking about the fact that I wasn’t going to float in the pool with Becca this afternoon, or beg Dad to take me to the stable—or even ask Mom for a PB&J.
The longer we talked, the better I felt, though. Maybe I wasn’t going to have those things this weekend, but I had my new friends waiting for me. Maybe we’d start our own weekend traditions.
Mom and I talked for a few more minutes before hanging up.
I hurried out to the common room, ready to rejoin everyone and order breakfast. Waffles with whipped cream sounded better by the second.
“That was so fun!” I heard Jill say as I neared the room. “I’ve never seen jumping like that.”
“It’s a clean ride for Eve Ortiz,” an announcer said.
Eve Ortiz. Why does that name sound so familiar?
I walked into the common room. Everyone was gathered around the TV.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “What DVD did you guys—”
“Up next in cross-country is two-time junior dressage champion, Lauren Towers,” the announcer called. The camera panned to me and Skyblue. I was dressed in my best navy coat, white shirt, stock tie, spotless breeches, and shiny boots. But I didn’t have to see the footage to remember what I’d worn on that particular day.
This could not be happening.
I rested my back against the wall for support and let my body slide down.
“Omigod, it’s you !” Jill said, turning to look at me. “I just picked a random DVD and you’re in it?! You were on TV! You’re, like, famous!”
More like infamous, I thought, holding my head.
I was completely frozen. I couldn’t move. Or breathe.
I knew I had to stop the DVD, but all I could do was stare at my “new friends.”
Everyone was about to see my accident and find out the secret I’d been trying to keep for almost two years. I was an ex-champion with confidence issues.
Nausea washed over me, making me woozy. I hadn’t wa
nted Khloe to find out this way. And I’d only just been hours away from telling her the truth.
“LT?” Khloe said, softly.
“Khloe,” I said.
“You never told me you were a dressage champion!” Lexa said, excitedly. “How come? That’s your favorite discipline!”
Riley didn’t say a word. I watched as she sat there, expressionless, taking it all in.
“Guys, that’s not our LT!” Khloe said. “Okay, so they look a lot alike, but that’s not Whisper.”
TV-Lauren cued Skyblue into a canter and cleared the first brush jump. I didn’t need to look at the screen to remember the exact course.
Each girl kept shifting her gaze from the screen to me. But all I could do was stay along the wall, quiet.
“They’re approaching the final jump,” the announcer said, his voice getting louder. “Lauren’s ride is clean and her time is fastest. She is our final competitor. If Lauren and Skyblue clear this jump, they’ve clinched first place— and a huge win for Double Aces.”
“Lauren? Come sit with us!” Jill patted the seat next to her, but I didn’t move.
I closed my eyes.
This was when everything had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Somehow, I tuned out the sounds of hooves skidding on grass, a body hitting the ground, and a giant, gasping crowd.
“Oh, my God,” Riley whispered.
Then I opened my eyes. Riley, Clare, Lexa, Jill, and Khloe were all staring at me.
Without breaking her stare, Khloe paused the DVD. “Lauren,” Khloe said, too slow. “Was that you?”
I looked directly into my roommate’s eyes. And suddenly, I knew I had to say it.
“No,” I said, vehement. “The person on TV is not me.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Twenty-four-year-old Jess Burkhart (a.k.a. Jess Ashley) writes from Brooklyn, New York. She’s obsessed with sparkly things, lip gloss, and TV. She loves hanging with her bestie, watching too much TV, and shopping for all things Hello Kitty. Learn more about Jess at www.jessicaburkhart.com. Find everything Canterwood Crest at www.canterwoodcrest.com.
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Initiation Page 18