Rival Revenge

by Jessica Burkhart

  Alison went into the bathroom and came out with a lime green plastic container. She opened the lid and revealed dozens of bottles of polish, all lined up in the box.

  “Wow,” I said. “Awesome.”

  Alison looked through the polishes and pulled out a clear shade. “Base first,” she said.

  We took turns painting our nails, passing around the bottle when we were finished.

  “Now the hard part,” Julia said. “Choosing a color.”

  “I love this one,” Heather said, picking up a light pink. “It’s called ‘Kiss on the Chic.’ Cute.”

  “I’m feeling red,” I said. “This is it—‘Big Apple Red.’”

  Julia and Alison picked their colors. Julia went with a dark purple and Alison chose a chocolate brown.

  “Let’s play a game,” Heather said. “I vote for ‘Versus.’”

  “What’s that?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Oh, my cousin Joseph came up with it,” Heather said. “It’s easy. You pick two people you’d like to see go up against each other. Everyone else gets to ask you a question or two about the situation and circumstances. Then, you have to say why you think that person would win if they fought it out.”

  “It’s so fun,” Alison said. “Watch us play once and then you can come in on the next round.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Heather came prepared. “Utz versus Headmistress Drake.”

  “Location?” Alison asked.

  “Behind the admin building,” Heather said.

  “Situation?” Julia asked.

  Heather paused, thinking. “Utz tackled a student because he broke one of her wrestling trophies.”

  “Already got it,” Alison said. “Headmistress Drake would so win because even though Utz is a wrestler, the headmistress would be so furious that she’d take her down.”

  “Disagree,” Julia said. “Utz would win because no matter how mad Drake was, Utz is a trained wrestler. Drake would have no chance against her.”

  Heather looked at both girls. “Both of you made good points, but I have to go with Drake. This is her school and if someone tackled a student, Drake could be sooo fired. So her anger at Utz would overcome her lack of training.”

  I loved this game!

  “Alison, you go,” Heather said.

  “Okay, Violet versus Jasmine,” Alison said.

  “Who started it?” Heather asked.

  “Violet,” Alison said.

  Julia leaned forward. “What are they fighting over?”

  Alison took in a breath. “Um, whether or not Jasmine should tack up all of the Belles’ horses before the next lesson.”

  “Did Jas do anything to make Violet mad?” I asked.

  Alison shook her head. “Nope. Violet just told her to do it from now on.”

  We all sat back for a second, thinking about our answers.

  “Violet,” Heather said. “She’s the leader of the Belles and Jas would do anything she says.”

  “Jas,” Julia said. “She’s barely willing to tack up Phoenix. There’s no way she’d be that scared of Violet that she’d tack up three more horses.”

  I nodded. “Jas. She’s not really hanging with the Belles that much anyway. Plus, Jas has gotten scary enough on her own—she doesn’t need them anymore.”

  Alison looked at me. “I agree with Sasha. Jas would win. Julia, you go. Then Sasha.”

  Julia smirked at me and somehow I just knew I wasn’t going to like her choices.

  “Eric,” she said, “versus Jacob.”

  “Where?” Alison asked.

  “Eric’s room in Blackwell,” Julia said.

  This was going to go so wrong. I could feel it.

  “Did Eric invite Jacob over or did he just show up?” Heather asked.

  “He showed up,” Julia said.

  I was going to ask the question before someone else did. “Why?”

  “To fight over you because they both want you back,” Julia said.

  I took a breath and glanced down at my hands. They’d clenched and I hadn’t even known it. I wasn’t going to get up and leave. I could handle this.

  “Jacob,” Alison said. “He does work out a lot.”

  Heather’s eyes flickered to mine. “Jacob. He wants it more.”

  I sat, not wanting to answer.

  “Hello?” Julia said. “Waiting.”

  “Jacob,” I spat out. “Just because. I’m not giving a reason.”

  “Fine,” Julia said. “And I picked him too. There’s just something about the way he was acting for a while. Maybe he really does want you back.”

  We sat in silence as we finished our nails. I wondered if that meant something—we’d all disagreed on the pre-vious answers, but Jacob had been the unchallenged winner of this round. Things were quiet for a few minutes before Alison and Julia started chatting. And I knew I just had to let go—it was a silly game and I’d come here to have fun. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of the night analyzing why they’d all picked Jacob instead of at least one person choosing Eric.

  We gossiped about the latest drama in our classes and they laughed when I told them about Utz’s health class.

  “I’d see how many times I could get away with breaking the egg before she was like, ‘That’s it! You’re done,’” Heather said with a grin.

  “I was tempted,” I said. “But Ja—” I stopped before I said his entire name, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

  “Ja—what?” Alison asked, looking up. “Ohhh.” Her eyebrows shot up and she went back to painting her pinkie.

  “Nothing. Jacob’s my partner and he drew this really cute face on the egg, so I don’t want to break it.”

  Julia stared at me as if she was about to stay something, but a look from Heather made her stop.

  Someone’s cell rang and Heather jumped up to answer it. “Hi, Dad,” she said. She walked out of the living room and into her room, closing the door behind her.

  Julia got up and went to the bathroom.

  “Her dad calls every night,” Alison said. “He wants a total progress report on what she worked on with Aristocrat. He freaks if she misses his call.”

  I glanced at Heather’s door. “That’s awful. She has to hate hearing her phone ring every night.”

  We both looked back at our nails when Julia emerged from the bathroom and Heather joined us seconds later.

  “Everything okay?” Julia asked. I’d never heard such concern in her voice.

  Heather nodded. “Yep. Just the usual.”

  Heather, using her unpainted hand, grabbed the remote and turned on a new episode.

  FRIDAY NIGHT REVISITED

  WHEN THE EPISODE ENDED AND THE CREDITS rolled, Heather left the DVD hovering on the menu. Our polish had dried and we each had shiny, pretty nails.

  “Did you see Jasmine at all on your way out?” Heather asked me.

  “Nope. I got lucky, I guess.” I paused, trying to gauge how they’d react to my question. “So … have you guys come up with any evidence to prove Jas framed you?”

  Heather, Julia, and Alison traded glances. Heather ate a green grape before looking up at me. “We haven’t found anything yet.”

  “But we can’t wait forever,” Alison said. “Julia and I are going to die if we don’t get to ride soon.”

  “I’d feel the same way,” I said.

  Julia shook her head. “We’re miserable without riding.”

  And suddenly I believed them one hundred and ten percent. Both that they were unhappy and that they hadn’t cheated. I still didn’t trust Julia, or even Heather most of the time, but Alison and I had been getting closer. She really didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would cheat.

  “The longer we wait, the harder it’s going to be,” Heather said. “We’ve got to stop talking about it and

  do it.”

  “If I can help,” I said. “I will. You can trust me. If Jas framed you, I want her to pay.”

  The Trio nodd
ed.

  “Thanks,” Heather said after a minute. “We’ll let you know.”

  Julia glanced at me for a second and for the first time, she didn’t look as if she hated me. Her eyes weren’t narrowed and she wasn’t glaring at me. It was a normal glance.

  We blew through a couple more episodes before my eyes started fluttering shut. Everyone else was quiet and Alison looked half-asleep already.

  “I’m going to bed,” Heather said.

  “Me too,” Julia said.

  “And me,” Alison added. “Steph was probably going to be at our door any minute anyway.”

  Heather flicked off the TV.

  We stood, and tossed our pizza box and paper plates. Alison went into the bathroom and I was alone with Heather and Julia in the living room, waiting for my turn to wash my face and brush my teeth. I sank back onto the couch, fighting to keep my eyes open.

  “Are you ever going to talk about the party?” Julia asked.

  My heart started pounding and I tried to calm my breathing—maybe Julia would think I’d fallen asleep.

  “Oh, please,” Julia said. “I know you’re not asleep. What happened?”

  I opened my eyes and took a breath. “I came here to get away from all of that, not to talk about it. Okay?”

  “So you’re not going to say anything at all? You’re hiding out here for a night and then you’re going to go back and do what? Pretend nothing ever happened?” Julia pressed.

  “Julia, drop it,” Heather said. “We invited her over here to relax and you’re not helping.”

  I smiled. Heather had a way of never being outright nice to me, but she’d just shielded me from Julia’s questions. No one said anything as we took turns in the bathroom.

  After I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I climbed into Alison’s bed. Soon, I drifted off to sleep and smiled when I thought about how my obsession for lip gloss was almost rivaled by my new love of nail polish.

  EARLY = RIDIC

  THE NEXT MORNING, I OPENED MY EYES AND almost wasn’t sure where I was. Then I remembered—I’d slept over in the Trio’s suite. Talk about the ultimate never-saw-that-coming. The dials on Alison’s clock changed to six thirty and tunes from the local pop station started playing. Alison reached over me and slapped the clock, falling back onto her pillow.

  Five minutes later, the radio came back on and, with a growl, Alison pushed a button and sat up.

  “I hate getting up so early,” Alison said. “Ridic.”

  I sat up and ran my fingers through my tangled hair. “Agreed.”

  We got up and walked into the living room. Julia’s door was still closed, but Heather was up and walking to her closet. She pulled open the doors and I couldn’t help but stare. Her clothing collection rivaled Paige’s, but it wasn’t the everyday clothes I was drooling over—it was the endless pairs of breeches, dozens of pairs of show boots and paddock boots, and crisp show shirts that filled half of the closet.

  Julia’s door opened and with her eyes half-closed, she walked to the bathroom, her fine hair staticky from the pillow.

  Heather selected a dark purple polo shirt, pencil skirt, and ballet flats. Alison and I went back to her room, got dressed, and I started putting my stuff back in my bag. We met Heather in the living room.

  “I’ll just get cleaned up in my own room,” I said. “Thanks for letting me sleep over.”

  Heather nodded. “Not that we’re making a habit of it or anything, Silver.”

  “It was cool,” Alison said, smiling.

  “Tell Julia I said thanks,” I said.

  I picked up my bag and slid my feet into my flip-flops. Out in the hallway, I adjusted my bag and started down the hallway to the stairs. That had been nothing like I’d expected. Julia, Alison, and Heather had been cool most of the time and I’d had fun—a lot more fun than I’d ever thought.

  I walked down the stairs and into the main hallway, digging my phone out of my pocket. I wanted to text Paige to tell her I was on my way back and to see if I could gauge her mood. Not that she wouldn’t be happy for me, but I knew she would still be hurt that I hadn’t stayed in our room for the night.

  “Sasha?” Callie walked over, one hand on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

  I wanted to say I miss you and I want our friendship back. But instead, I shrugged. “I slept over.”

  Callie tilted her head. “Slept over where?”

  “Here. With Julia, Alison, and Heather.”

  Callie threw her head back and smirked. “Wow. That didn’t take long. I feel sorry for Paige. You already ditched her to sleep over with the Trio. Not like anything you’d do could shock me now, but still.”

  There was nothing else to say—nothing I could say. Everything about the way Callie was looking at me made me feel sick and I couldn’t stand here another second. I stepped around her and left Orchard.

  On my walk to Winchester, I started rethinking what to tell Paige. Did I tell her it was horrible? Fun? Boring? I hadn’t texted her once all night—I’d completely forgotten about my phone, so maybe she’d guessed that nothing textworthy had really happened.

  I reached my room and opened the door. Paige, standing in front of our full-length mirror, was brushing

  her hair.

  “Hey,” she said. She gave me a bright smile. “How was it?”

  “It was so awkward at first,” I said. “Alison was the only one in the suite when I got there and I could kind of tell that she was trying to be extra nice so that I didn’t feel like trying to leave when Julia came and was mean to me.”

  “Uh-oh,” Paige said. “Was she?”

  I dropped my bag on the floor and sat cross-legged on my bed.

  “At first,” I said. “We watched TV and she made a couple of Julia-like comments, but whatever. I ignored her and things were okay.”

  “That’s good,” Paige said. “What else did you do?” She smoothed her blue pocket dress and put on silver ballet flats.

  “We ate pizza while we watched TV and then we did our nails.” I held out my hands for Paige’s inspection.

  “Oooh, pretty,” she said. “I love that color.”

  “Me too. And that was it, really. We went to bed, got up, and I left while they were getting ready.”

  I’d purposely left out the part where I’d run into Callie. I didn’t want Paige to be reminded of Friday at all.

  “I’m glad you had fun,” Paige said.

  “Thanks. What did you do last night?”

  Paige shook her head, laughing. “I was so lame. I put on a DVD and fell asleep! I woke up around midnight like, ‘What’s going on?’ and for a second, I forgot where you were. Then, I remembered and fell back asleep.”

  I laughed. “At least you knew where I was.”

  Paige peered closer at me. “Did you guys stay up late? You still look tired, Sash.”

  “Not really,” I said, defensively. “I don’t think I look that tired.”

  Paige held up her hands. “Okay, sorry. I wasn’t trying to insult you or anything. I’m just worried. You’re doing a lot and I don’t want you to get sick or something just because you don’t want to slow down.”

  “I’m not going to get sick—I’m really okay.”

  I turned away from Paige and started getting ready for class. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw faint purple circles under my eyes. I went into the bathroom and started applying concealer to the circles. Truth: I was tired, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me from doing everything I needed to do. I was going to prove to Paige and everyone else that no matter how “tired” I looked, I could handle things.

  ARE WE REALLY TALKING

  IN FRONT OF SASHA?

  WHEN I SAT DOWN IN MATH CLASS, CALLIEwas seated at the opposite side of the classroom and I stared at the whiteboard. Ms. Utz had already written today’s homework assignments on the board. I’d had her for math last year and the class hadn’t been too hard, but I still had to work at it to keep up my grade. The weird
est thing was having Utz for two classes this time. Heather walked into class seconds before it started, like usual.

  “I’m going to pass back your quizzes from earlier in the week,” Ms. Utz said. “Then, we’ll go over last night’s homework.”

  She passed back the papers, putting them facedown on our desks. She smiled at me when she reached my desk and put down my paper. From her smile, that was a definite A. I turned over the paper and saw a B+. A B+.

  I counted how many problems there were and how many I’d gotten wrong. I fought the urge to slam my head into my desk. I’d been one right answer away from an A. One. Answer. I half-crumpled the paper and shoved it into my backpack. I’d studied for hours for that quiz. Utz should have just given me an F—that’s what it felt like.

  “Any questions about the quiz?” Ms. Utz asked.

  I was half-tempted to raise my hand and ask how I’d studied so hard and only managed to pull a B+. But I didn’t say anything.

  “I’m still confused about how to solve problem six,” Heather said.

  “Okay,” Ms. Utz said. “Everyone, look at number six and let’s go through the steps. Heather, tell me how you started to answer it.”

  Heather told Utz how she started the problem and then Utz called on someone else to solve the next line. I tuned it out because, of course, that was a problem I’d gotten right.

  It kind of surprised me to see Heather ask for help. She’d struggled with math last year and even though we hadn’t been in the same class, I bet she’d asked as few questions as possible. That was Heather’s style—she was too embarrassed to look as if she didn’t have the answer to everything.

  But after that problem, I paid attention during every second of class and took a bunch of notes. If I wanted an A—I had to do more.

  When it was time for lunch, I got in line and grabbed items that would only take minutes to eat so I could leave—a ham-and-cheese sandwich, applesauce, and a chocolate chip cookie. I started toward a table near the exit, when I saw Heather. She motioned to me and it felt as if everyone’s eyes were on me again. Sitting with the Trio once was enough to cause everyone to talk, but this was going to make everyone freak.