Chelly looked between Celia and I, her smile disappearing. “Wait. You’re not coming to the dance?”
“No,” Emmie answered for us. “And don’t bother trying to convince them. I’ve done my best and they’re not budging.”
I looked over at her and gave her a little head nod in thanks for shutting Chelly down. It didn’t stop Chelly from pouting a little, but she seemed to understand that Celia and I wanted nothing to do with Valentine’s. Plus, if Emmie couldn’t convince us, no one could.
Kaylee showed up a few minutes later which gave us even more incentive to vacate: Rosewood dorm rooms were cozy for two people, but not so much for five, especially when trying on clothes was involved. We left our friends to go over their wardrobes for the evening and made our way down the hall to Celia and Kaylee’s room.
“So,” Celia said on the way. “Netflix marathon?”
I slid my arm across her shoulders. “Perfect.”
~ ♥ ~
We decided on Sleepless in Seattle, a movie my mother went on and on about as being the best rom com of all time that neither of us had ever seen. I would never tell my mother this, but I did like it. Glancing over at Celia and seeing her glossy eyes as the credits started rolling told me she liked it, too.
“That was good,” I said, handing her a Kleenex from the box on the table beside me.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the tissue and wiping her eyes with it while she sniffled a little.
“What is it about guys with dead wives that makes them so...”
“Hot?” Celia offered.
I glanced at the screen and then back to her. “Not hot exactly...I want to say needy, but that’s not right, either.”
“Part of it is that they need love but also that they were married.”
She seemed very sure of this. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Some woman married them, so obviously they aren’t a total jerk and were marriable. And the marriage didn’t end in divorce so he didn’t become a total jerk. He lost the wife he loved like crazy. He still loves her, which shows he’s loyal but then the new woman wins his heart and heals him.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I said a little surprised. I mean, for a girl who doesn’t talk all that much and who didn’t have a boyfriend, she sure seemed to know a lot about this.
“I read a lot of romance novels.”
“Right,” I said, smiling. “Everything you know about relationships you learned from romance novels.”
She nodded seriously. “It’s true. You know, people dump on them, but they’re not the heaving bosom books that people make fun of. They’re smart and funny and...”
“Whoa,” I said, holding up my hands when she started getting defensive. “I’m not dumping on them at all.”
She exhaled. “I know, sorry. Just some people get on me about them and think they’re stupid.”
“Maybe...” I began and then realized it wasn’t really my place.
“What?” she asked, looking at me from the corners of her eyes.
“It’s nothing. It’s none of my business.”
“No, really. What?”
I winced but said what I’d been thinking. “Maybe...I mean, obviously you’re smart, but if you read your school books more and the novels less, you’d do better and wouldn’t have to worry about getting kicked out.”
“You, too?” she said, making me think of Julius Caesar’s Et tu, Brute? From our English class.
“I’m not trying to be harsh, but maybe you could balance out your time better.”
She looked mad for a few more minutes and I worried that I’d really pissed her off, but then she nodded. “I guess I could. You’re probably right. Just reading is...I don’t know, it’s like my own little vacation away from school stuff and all the junk going on.”
I understood that. I’d always loved reading. Although I can’t say I’d ever picked up a romance novel.
“Plus, no matter what, there’s always a happy ending,” she added.
“I can sure appreciate that,” I said, thinking about Brady and our lack of a happy ending. But I guess that probably qualified more as a tragedy than a romance.
She nodded and then looked back at the TV. “Should we watch another?”
I glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Sure. It’s still pretty early.”
After a few minutes of surfing, we settled on another old school movie: Can’t Buy Me Love which had a very young McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy in it. Although, as we watched the opening where he rode around on a lawn mower, he was more like McDorky, though I wished there was some way to go through the screen and tell him the girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day would one day all drool over him.
“He’s kind of nerdtastic in this, huh?” Celia said, summing it up nicely.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, so let me know if you want to borrow any of my novels,” she said. “I’m something of an expert, so I can set you up.”
She sounded suspiciously like a drug dealer. I laughed and said so. She smiled. “They are highly addictive. Anyway, let me know.”
I looked over at her. “Thanks.”
And then, for no reason at all, I blurted out. “I started writing a book.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
I nodded. “In London. I got this notebook for Christmas and I was writing about...” I thought about Tristan, my hot little secret. “This guy I used to watch out the window of our flat. It was kind of romantic, I guess. The book, I mean.” My face heated up, but it was dark in the lounge so maybe she didn’t notice.
Celia paused the movie and turned fully toward me. “Really? I’d love to read it,” she said and sounded like she really meant it.
“It’s pretty awful,” I said, cringing as I thought back to how truly awful it was. I wasn’t just saying that trying to be humble about it. “No. It’s really awful.”
“I bet it’s not as bad as you think it is,” she assured me.
“Oh, I bet it’s even worse. Anyway, it’s not finished or anything. I kind of stopped working on it.”
“How come?”
“It was just so bad. Then I thought maybe I’d write my own story—you know all that spy stuff seems really popular—but I sort of stalled out on that, too. Mostly because if my dad found it, he’d lose his mind. Then I came back to Rosewood and it took a while to catch up on school work. Plus I’d promised Jared I’d read his manuscript and I guess I kind of forgot about it.” I exhaled. “Life got busy, you know?”
Celia nodded. “But I bet what you wrote is really good.”
I laughed. “I think your faith in my skill is misplaced.”
“Well...” she cocked her head. “I’m no writer, but doesn’t it take a lot of work? Like, no one writes something perfect the first time. What if you worked on your book?”
“I don’t know...It’s so bad. Although I did like the actual writing part.”
She bit her lip like she was unsure, but said, “What if you had someone helping you?”
My heart fluttered; I liked where she was going with this. “You mean someone who knows a lot about romance novels?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled at her. “That sounds like a ton of fun. I mean, I can’t imagine it would ever get published but who knows, right?”
Her face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.
“But,” I said, holding up my hand.
Her grin dissolved.
“I won’t do it until you work on your marks. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting kicked out of here. Plus, if you do get booted, then who will help me?”
She stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I need to find a tutor. A real one.”
“Good,” I said. “Let’s plan to start after mid-terms. After you kick butt on them.”
She stuck out her hand and we shook on it.
~ ♥ ~
We must have both passed out in
the lounge during Can’t Buy Me Love, but when all the girls started returning to the third floor, talking loudly and laughing as they made their way to their rooms, I woke up. I glanced over and Celia was blinking, looking as bleary-eyed as I felt.
“Hey,” I said, glancing up at the clock on the wall.
Celia nodded at me and then glanced toward the door just as our friends came in.
Kaylee had a goofy grin on her face and messed up hair and Chelly’s lipstick was completely gone from her swollen lips, so it was no mystery what those girls had been doing with their respective boyfriends.
Emmie brought up the rear. “There they are!” she said, a bit too loudly. Or maybe I was just crabby from waking up two seconds earlier.
“How was the dance?” I asked.
“It was okay,” Chelly said, plopping down onto the couch next to me. “The guys were asking about you two.”
“Which guys?” Celia asked before I got the chance.
“Well, Abe asked where the two of you were.” Chelly smirked and lifted her eyebrows as she said to Celia, “Jenks asked about you specifically.”
“Really?” Celia said.
“Maybe not a friend zone vibe after all,” I said, rubbing my eyes free of crusties. My brain felt mushy after sleeping on the couch, but I still needed to know details about the dance. “So...” I began, hoping someone was going to just put me out of my misery.
“He wasn’t there,” Kaylee said.
“Who?” Celia asked, then nodded knowingly when she clued in that we were talking about Brady. “Oh right.”
“At least, I didn’t see him. Although I might have been otherwise occupied for some of the night.”
Emmie snorted. “Right. Some of the night. More like you and that delicious duke of yours were steaming up the corner of the Westwood gym until one of the teachers had to pry the two of you apart.”
“Future duke,” Kaylee said as she blushed, not bothering to deny it.
“But I didn’t see the horse coach, either,” Emmie said. “And I wasn’t otherwise occupied.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“What did Jenks say?” Celia asked.
Kaylee shrugged. “He asked where you were tonight.”
Celia screwed up her face. “What did you tell him?”
“That you didn’t feel like going to the dance. Why?” She asked, wide-eyed, “Was I supposed to say something else?”
“No,” Celia sighed. “I guess not.”
Kaylee cursed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know...”
Celia got up and hugged her roommate. “It’s okay. It probably didn’t mean anything that he asked anyway. I’m going to head down to bed. I’ll see you later, k?”
Kaylee nodded. “I’ll be down in a bit,” she said and then watched as Celia left the lounge by herself.
“So I guess I messed that up,” she said once Celia was gone. “I thought she was into the chef guy?”
Emmie shook her head. “You didn’t mess anything up. She thought Jenks wasn’t into her. I think she is into the chef, too, but is convinced he doesn’t like her.”
“I bet they both like her,” Chelly said drawing our attention to her. “But she’s so quiet all the time, they probably think she doesn’t like them.”
“That’s a good point,” Kaylee said. “She can come off as a bit standoffish sometimes.”
Emmie nodded. “She can. I remember when I first met her, I thought she was a total celebuspawn bitch.”
I thought back to that first day at Rosewood when I’d walked into the dorm room I thought I was supposed to share with Celia and I’d been terrified of her at first. “She can be a little...intimidating,” I said.
The girls nodded. “We need to help her get a guy,” Chelly said.
“First things first,” Emmie said. “We need to help her not get kicked out of here.”
Kaylee’s eyes lit up as she looked from Emmie to me. “Oh yeah? Did she talk to you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Earlier. We’re going to help her.” I didn’t want to let on about our little project just yet. Not until we actually had something to show for it.
“I’ve tried. A lot,” Kaylee said with a sigh. “She just gets mad.”
“It might be different now,” Emmie said. “She knows she shouldn’t take her frustration out on you. We need to find her a tutor that isn’t one of us.”
“Good plan,” Kaylee said. “I just hope she’ll go for it.”
“She will,” I said confidently. She knew she needed the help and now she had extra incentive.
“Okay,” Chelly said. “So we’ll get that sorted. What about you?”
It wasn’t until she said my name that I realized she was talking to me.
“Huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “You. What about you?”
“My grades are fine,” I said. “I’m just about caught up after being away at Christmas, but I don’t need a tutor.”
Chelly exhaled loudly. “I meant a guy. Do we need to help you get a guy?”
“Oh...um, no. But thanks.”
“You sure?”
I nodded, thinking about Brady and how no one could compare to him in my mind. I mean, Tristan, as hot as he had been, and Dave, as nice and amazing looking as he was, neither of them could measure up to Brady. I knew it was unhealthy and definitely something I was going to have to get over. Someday I was going to have to find another guy. But that day wasn’t here yet.
“I’m sure,” I said, never more sure of anything in my life.
“Still hopeful?” Emmie asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Just not ready.”
Though of course I was lying to my friend. As long as we were both still breathing, there was always hope.
The Derby
As we got closer to the equestrian competition and training got more intense, while I missed him very much on a personal level, I was very thankful not to have the distraction of Brady at the morning practices.
I was still, by far, the worst one on the team and was determined not to be the weakest link when we went to the Derby. But while I practiced my heart out and I was improving, compared to the other girls, I was definitely going to drag them down. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Janette tossed me off the team, knowing I really didn’t belong. She probably wondered how I’d gotten on the team in the first place, not that I was about to tell her I’d overstated my skill level to Brady, making him think I was good enough that I didn’t need to try out for the team.
I could have used some of his extra coaching but after the incident down in the bunker, keeping my distance was my best plan of action, at least where my heart was concerned. And really, I was kidding myself if I actually thought I could improve enough that I wouldn’t be an embarrassment to the school at the competition.
I was seriously considering bailing but I wasn’t a quitter and backing out would leave a bad taste in my mouth. Also, I had a feeling if I did bail, Brady would find out and would look down on me. That would be way worse than finishing dead last in the competition.
At practice on the day before the Derby, Janette ran us through our routines. Then, just before we all returned to the barn, she took us through the schedule for the day, telling us we needed to come super-early to help load the horses into the trailers because the derby was off-campus at her equestrian center. The same center I’d already been to when Brady had taken me to meet Albatross that time.
After we were dismissed from practice, Janette came and found me in the barn as I was getting Charlie ready to be put away in his stall.
I smiled at her as I brushed Charlie, suddenly worried that she was going to tell me not to bother showing up the next day, which was stupid, since I’d been considering bailing and should be relieved to be removed from the competition.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re feeling okay about tomorrow,” she said.
Putting a hand against Charlie’s solid flank, I straightened
up and turned fully toward her. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve definitely gotten better, but...I want to make sure you understand that you’ll be competing with some really accomplished riders.”
Unable to help my smirk, I said, “Is this your really nice way of telling me not to expect to win because I suck?”
She stared at me for a long moment before her face relaxed and she smiled. “I guess so. I’m sorry. But you don’t suck. You’re just not as advanced as the rest of the team; it’s all relative.”
I shrugged and turned back to Charlie, needing to get him put away so I could get to class. “I know I’m not very good.”
“You’re getting better.”
“Not really,” I said with a glance at her over my shoulder. “Not enough.”
“If you enjoy it, that’s all that matters. Your score tomorrow doesn’t matter. We’re there to have fun.”
I didn’t believe that was the case for all the girls, nor the dean who I had a feeling wanted Rosewood to really represent at the competition. But it was nice of her to say.
“I do enjoy it,” I said. “I mean, this isn’t going to be a career for me or anything, but I do like being around the horses and riding.” And I used to really like it because of a certain coach...
She smiled and placed her hand on my shoulder. “That’s all I wanted to hear. See you first thing in the morning to help load the horses.”
“Thanks,” I said with a smile before I returned to brushing Charlie, feeling a lot lighter than I had in a long time.
~ ♥ ~
“Oh no,” I said aloud. It was the next morning and was still dark out as I walked toward the stables to help get the horses ready and loaded into the trailers. Even with him facing the other way, I couldn’t mistake Brady standing there in his tight creamy beige riding breeches. I swallowed and resisted the strong urge to turn back around and bolt back to the dorm.
It would be so easy, the devil on my shoulder said. Just pretend you puked your guts out and couldn’t possibly get on a horse.
You’re not that girl, the angel on my other shoulder piped up.
Oh fine, Devil said. And speaking of fine, look at that butt, those thighs...
Hitting the Target Page 5
