Jealousy (15 page)

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.

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 avoiding 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.

“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.”