Little White Lies

by Jessica Burkhart

  Paige and I showered, did our hair, and got dressed. We slipped right into our old routine as though we’d never spent the summer away from Canterwood.

  “Do I have to wear these?” I asked Paige, glancing down at my shoes. “I might hate myself later if I wear them and my feet start to hurt.”

  Paige laughed and eyed me. “The shoes have to stay. They make the outfit.”

  And they kind of did. I’d never worn them before, but they were black wedges that matched my heather gray shirt and black skirt.

  I nodded. “True. I can deal. And the green shirt was def the right choice for you.”

  “Thanks!” Paige put tiny diamond studs in her ears. She’d picked a capped-sleeve hunter green shirt that made her fair skin look perfect and creamy. Plus, she’d paired it with skinny black jeans—jeans I planned to borrow (read: steal) next week.

  I grabbed my backpack and checked my reflection one more time. Paige had given my hair tousled waves with her curling iron and she’d pulled her own hair into a sleek ponytail. We’d gone with the barely-there look for makeup—brown mascara, concealer, and lip gloss.

  “It’s weird not rushing off to the stable,” I said. “We actually get to leave for class together.”

  Paige picked up her soft brown leather messenger bag and adjusted it over her shoulder. “Totally selfish—but I won’t miss you getting up at six and clomping around in your boots.”

  I stuck out my bottom lip. “I tried to be quiet.”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “I was kidding, dork. I learned to sleep through it. Especially after listening to you snore every night.”

  Laughing, I pulled open the door and pushed her out into the hallway. The entire Winchester building had been given a makeover during the summer. The once bright yellow walls had been painted an eggshell white and the glossy wooden floors were shiny enough that I could practically see my reflection.

  Paige and I walked by Livvie’s office and she waved at us. She was a little neurotic—hello, she organized her paper-clip collection by size and color—but she was the best dorm monitor on campus. “Have a great first day, girls! Come see me if you need anything, okay?”

  “We will,” I promised.

  Paige and I walked outside and started down the sidewalk toward the science building. It was at the far end of campus by the tennis court.

  “I’m glad we have our first class together,” Paige said. “Think we’ll know anyone else?”

  “I don’t know. I know Eric and Callie aren’t in this class. With our luck, we’ll probably have the Trio and Jasmine.”

  “But maybe we’ll have …” Paige let her sentence trail off.

  I playfully pushed her arm. “Maybe you’ll have Ryan, you mean. Just say it.”

  Paige blushed. “Well, yeah. But we only IMed a little over the summer. That was it.”

  “A little? Every week is not ‘a little’!”

  “Okay, okay! We IMed a lot, but I don’t even know if he really likes me. We just talked about general stuff.”

  “He likes you,” I said. “I saw it at your Teen Cuisine party.”

  Teen Cuisine was the hottest show on The Food Network for Kids. Paige would never bring it up, but she hosted the show and was kind of a campus celebrity.

  Paige smiled as we walked up the stairs and into the English building. Canterwood’s buildings looked more like an Ivy League campus than a middle school and high school. The two arched windows above the double doors flooded the marble hallway with light. Students hurried down the main hallway that split off into different corridors. Along the central hall, framed black-and-white photos of famous writers and authors who had graduated from Canterwood hung on the walls.

  Paige took a purple folder out of her bag and consulted her schedule. “Room 302. So, third floor, obvi.”

  “Oooh, the special floor. I’ve never been up there,” I said.

  “Me neither. It’s just for advanced classes.”

  We took the stairs and wandered down the hallway until we found the room. I opened the door and stopped, almost causing Paige to plow into my back.

  “Whoaaa,” I said. “This is our classroom?”

  Eleven cozy-looking chairs were arranged in a circle around a square coffee table. Under the chairs and table, a plush burgundy rug made the vanilla-colored walls feel warm and cozy. We were the first ones there.

  “If all advanced classes get rooms like these, I’m dropping my other classes and signing up for these,” Paige said. “I’ll just never sleep to keep up with the workload.”

  “I had Mr. Davidson last year and I can’t believe he made us stay in a regular classroom when his eighth graders had this,” I said.

  The rest of the class, including Alison, trickled in and a guy I didn’t recognize sat in the next-to-last empty seat as Mr. Davidson walked in.

  “Welcome, everyone,” he said. “For those of you who weren’t in my class last year, my name is Mr. Davidson and I’ll be your teacher for advanced eighth-grade English. As you can see, there are only ten of you. The setup may be a little different from what you’re used to.”

  I looked around the circle as the other students nodded.

  “This class will consist mostly of discussion. Yes, you will write papers, but it will mainly be a class open for dialogue. I hope you’ll learn more debating each other about literature than dashing off a paper on Hemingway two hours before it’s due.

  “I want everyone to feel comfortable enough to express his or her opinion about whatever book we’re reading,” Mr. Davidson said. “That’s why I chose this setting. I want each of us to come prepared to class every day ready to talk about what we’ve read. No one’s opinion is dumb or wrong, so don’t be afraid to speak.”

  Mr. Davidson ran a hand over his short blond hair. “But do not make the mistake of thinking this will be a class where you can show up and let everyone else talk. If you have not done the reading and cannot participate in intelligent discussion, you will be dismissed from my class. Understood?”

  We nodded.

  He lowered himself into his chair and looked at us. “To ease us into discussion, we’ll spend the period introducing ourselves and getting to know one another. You’ll tell me one thing about yourself, and name your favorite book. I’ll start.”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “So, as you already know, I’m Mr. Davidson. My favorite book is The Call of the Wild. I love dogs and on the weekends, my wife and I train a search-and-rescue dog that we sponsor.”

  “Really?” asked one of the girls. “That’s so cool.”

  We all nodded. I never expected him to say anything like that.

  Mr. Davidson turned to the girl sitting next to him.

  “Hey, I’m Vanessa,” she said.

  And we kept moving around the room until it was Alison’s turn.

  “Hi, I’m Alison. My favorite book is actually a graphic novel—The Black Cat. I love it because it has a good story and because I, um, draw. I’m trying to become a better writer so I can have good stories for my illustrations.”

  “I haven’t read many graphic novels, Alison, but perhaps you could recommend me a few of your favorites,” Mr. Davidson said.

  “Okay,” Alison said, grinning. She scribbled a note in her folder. The more time I spent with Alison, the more I realized that I knew absolutely nothing about her. I’d seen a couple of her horse sketches, but I had no idea she wanted to write. I wondered if her graphic novels were about horses.

  Mr. Davidson looked over at me, smiling.

  I looked around at the group. “I’m Sasha. I’ve read My Friend Flicka only a hundred times. My mom had to buy me another copy because the pages started falling out. I’m on the riding team and spend most of my time at the stable.”

  “That’s a wonderful book,” Mr. Davidson said. “I read it several years ago and really enjoyed it.”

  Paige was up next.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Paige Parker and my favorite book is Alice
in Wonderland. I read it after watching the Disney movie a zillion times when I was a kid. I love to cook and spend waaay too much time dreaming up new recipes that usually fail.”

  Everyone laughed. Paige could have told everyone that she was a TV star and gotten away with it because she was so nice, but she’d never do that.

  Then, Mandy, Brad, Derek, Lee, and Aaron went. Paige and I traded smiles. This was the coolest class ever.

  “I’m glad to know your favorite books,” Mr. Davidson said. “All of your picks say something about you and none of your choices were even close to the same book. I think we’re going to have a great class.”

  We smiled.

  “Take a look at the syllabus,” Mr. Davidson said. “Read the assigned chapters in our first book—The Secret Garden—and be prepared to discuss tomorrow. It’s time for everyone to get to their next class.”

  Everyone looked at the clock. That was the fastest class ever! Paige and I walked out of the classroom together.

  “That is so my favorite class,” I said.

  Paige giggled. “It’s only the first one.”

  “Seriously? You think anything can top that?” I checked my schedule. “Not unless the Sweet Shoppe is catering our science class. Let’s go.”

  We started for the science building. It was just a short walk down the hill.

  “Sooo,” Paige said. “I was looking at the calendar and there’s something, like, special happening this week.”

  “Really?” I pretended to be confused. “Like what?”

  “Your thirteenth birthday! That’s the only benefit of school starting a week early—we get to celebrate together!”

  I smiled. “That’s def a benefit.”

  Paige whipped out her purple and white striped notebook. “Since your birthday’s on Thursday and it’s already Monday, it’s way too late to plan a party on your actual birthday. I already texted Callie and we want to throw you a blowout party next Friday. Interested?”

  I almost dropped my books. “Paige! Omigod! That’s so sweet of you guys.”

  Paige wouldn’t even look at me as she wrote in her notebook; she just nodded. “You’ll have the best night ever.”

  We reached the science building, found our room, and took a couple of seats at one of the rows of long tables. Two giant whiteboards were at the front of the class and the teacher’s desk was off in the corner. It was covered with geeky gadgets—like the swinging magnetic balls, orbs with electricity, and a vase of sand art.

  As I took out my book, I couldn’t stop watching the door. Jacob was going to be in one of my classes—I just had a feeling. I’d take the Trio and Jasmine in class over him.

  I looked at Paige out of the corner of my eye as she took out a clean sheet of paper and got ready to take notes. I had to tell her about Jacob. She was my close friend and I needed someone to talk to or I’d go crazy. Even though Paige didn’t have a boyfriend, she gave the best guy advice. If she ever quit hosting Teen Cuisine, she could totally write an advice column for Fifteen.

  “Paige,” I said, leaning over. “After class, I want to talk to—”

  I stopped talking when my eyes flickered to the guy walking through the door.

  Ryan. Paige’s crush. He was so her type. Dark brown hair, intense eyes, and fair skin. Not a football player, but he definitely spent time in the gym.

  Paige blushed, ducking her head, then glanced back up. Ryan scanned the classroom for an empty seat and he saw Paige. He smiled and walked toward us. There was a seat at the table in front of us.

  Take it! Sit there! I tried to will Ryan through ESP.

  He dropped his backpack onto the floor and slid into the right chair. He turned around, flashing dimples.

  “Hey, guys,” he said.

  I smiled back, keeping one eye on Paige to make sure she didn’t decide to bolt for the door or something. “Hi, Ryan. Did you have a good summer?”

  “Totally,” Ryan said. “I spent most of it at my brother’s house on the Cape. I went surfing every day and rode his Jet Ski. It was awesome.”

  I looked at Paige, waiting for her to jump in and start talking. She’d been awkward around Ryan before summer break, but I’d hoped the IMing would have made her more comfortable around him. Her face, however, was bright pink and she kept her eyes on the paper on her desk.

  “You hear anything about this class?” Ryan asked, directing his question to Paige.

  Paige looked up and played with her pen. “Um, I read on FaceSpace that the teacher gives a lot of homework, but nothing too bad. And Sasha had her last year and the teacher was kind of tough.”

  “You need to friend me,” Ryan said. “We chatted all summer and I don’t even think we’re friends. That’s kind of wrong.”

  “So wrong,” Paige said, smiling.

  I hid my own grin. They’d be dating in no time. And Ryan seemed like a good guy, so I wasn’t worried about Paige. Ryan turned around when our teacher, Ms. Peterson, walked into the classroom.

  “Hey, what were you about to say before?” Paige whispered.

  “Nothing—tell you later,” I said.

  “Welcome, class,” Ms. Peterson said, tucking a lock of her chin-length dark hair behind her ear. “Let’s start with attendance and then we’ll go through the syllabus. I want to make sure everyone is aware of the deadlines for important papers and projects from the beginning.”

  She was going to be tough—she was last year. Ms. Peterson took attendance and then passed out papers to all of us.

  Her syllabus was twenty-four pages long, in size-ten font and with tiny margins.

  “First,” Ms. Peterson said. “Let me say that I do not tolerate lateness. If you’re late—don’t bother coming to my class. The same rule applies with papers and projects—if you miss a deadline, it’s an automatic zero. No makeups.”

  Everyone in the class was still. I surreptitiously capped my pink pen and traded it for a blue one. I had a feeling my paper would come back to me ripped into pieces if I turned it in with pink ink.

  As I listened to Ms. Peterson, I glanced over at Paige’s desk. She was drawing a tiny heart on the inside of her folder. P & R was written inside the heart.

  Suddenly, I knew I couldn’t tell Paige about Jacob. Not now. Not when she was just starting to like a guy herself. The focus should be on her for once—not my ever-present boy drama. I wasn’t going to take away from her crush on Ryan. I had to handle this on my own.

  My phone buzzed and I opened it to find a text from Callie. Eric and I r in the same sci class. Cool, huh?

  Awesome! I wrote back. Ms. Peterson shifted toward my side of the room and I shoved my phone under my leg.

  But maybe it wasn’t so awesome. My best friend and boyfriend were in the same class—alone—every day. What if they somehow figured out that Jacob and I were acting weird and realized something had happened between us?

  I caught Paige looking at me and I smiled at her. Suddenly, I was glad I’d signed up for theater. I had a feeling the acting lessons were going to come in handy.

  5

  LESSON ONE

  BY THE TIME I WALKED TO THE STABLE FOR my first YENT lesson, I was exhausted. I’d spent my lunch period in the bathroom, sitting in a locked stall and working on homework. I’d been too nervous about seeing Jacob at lunch to go. Thankfully, Callie had bought my excuse that I had to run to the admin office before my next class.

  I passed Black Jack’s stall at the stable. Callie’s Morab gelding was snoozing in the back of his stall. I stopped and looked at him. Charm and I had both lost a teammate.

  Jack walked up to me and put his head over the stall door. I scratched under his forelock, then rubbed his cheek. I’d never be able to make it up to Callie for what had happened. It wasn’t my fault that Jacob had started liking me again, I knew that, but I still felt bad. If Jacob hadn’t been acting so weird, maybe Callie and I would be grooming our horses for practice right now. I’d never had a lesson without Callie.

  Ever.
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  “See you later, boy,” I told Jack. I left him, grabbed Charm’s tack, and went to his stall.

  “Hi, guy,” I said to him.

  I led him out and started grooming him in the crossties. My mind had just begun to wander when I heard hoofbeats clattering down the aisle. I looked up from brushing Charm’s flank and Heather was glaring at me, holding a tacked-up Aristocrat.

  “Do you think Mr. Conner will wait for you to show up, or what?” Heather asked.

  “What?” I checked the giant wall clock near the grain room. “Omigod! We have to be there in two minutes! I totally spaced.”

  I dropped Charm’s body brush and scrambled to grab his tack from on top of the trunk in front of his stall.

  “Obvi,” Heather said. She looked over her shoulder, then let go of Aristocrat’s reins. “Give me Charm’s bridle.” She held out her hand to me.

  I tried to keep my mouth from falling open. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone I helped you. And I’m only doing it because I don’t want the real Canterwood riders to ever look bad. No matter what Mr. Conner says, Jas is not part of our team.”

  I didn’t dare argue with her. Heather and Jas would never stop hating each other. No matter how long Jasmine was at Canterwood, Heather would always see her as an outsider.

  Heather bridled Charm while I saddled him. I put on my helmet and we led both horses toward the exit.

  “Really, thanks,” I said.

  Heather rolled her eyes and walked faster. “You can stop talking to me now.”

  I laughed under my breath and stopped Charm a few feet out of the stable. The sun hid behind fat, puffy clouds and a slight breeze tugged at Charm’s mane. Heather and I mounted and let the horses walk toward the arena.

  At the far end, Jasmine warmed up Phoenix. The gray gelding, sweating in the heat, moved perfectly under Jasmine. They looked even better than they had at YENT camp. I let Charm into a slow trot, forcing myself to focus and not worry about Jasmine and Heather.