It wasn’t even something I could think about now. It was too soon. If I did end up getting accepted to Canterwood, I didn’t want to look back at the time I’d spent with Taylor and know I’d wasted it being upset the whole time. I couldn’t handle thinking about this.
In the darkness between previews and the start of the movie, I reached for Taylor and kissed him. This time, it was Tay who grabbed my hand. And this time, he didn’t let go.
As the movie started, my anxiety slowly melted away. Canterwood, riding, unpleasant memories—everything seemed to be moving farther and farther away. Maybe things would change soon, and maybe they wouldn’t. But for now, I felt comfortable and happy living the way someone my age should: in the moment.
Ninety minutes later, the lights came on and we walked out of the theater.
“What an awesome movie!” I said. “I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.”
“Oh, man, totally agree,” Taylor said. “It felt like it was five minutes long.”
We tossed our empty candy wrappers and half-eaten popcorn into the trash can and headed outside to wait for Taylor’s dad.
“I can’t wait until I can drive,” Taylor said. For as long as I’d known him, Taylor had been obsessed with cars. He had a closet full of models he’d put together when he was younger and the walls in his room were covered with posters of cars. (He’d told me a bunch of times, but I could never remember what they were!)
“Three years and you’ll have your permit,” I said. “That’s not too far away.”
Taylor’s eyes brightened from the light of the street lamp. “What’s not too far away is dinner. I’m so glad you chose Italian. I’m starving.”
Taylor’s dad drove up to us at the curb.
We got inside the SUV and, feeling happy and excited after our great movie date, I watched out the window at the quiet side streets we passed on the way to the restaurant. Union was a small town, populated by only a few thousand people. Tonight, it looked as though most of the people that were out were either high school kids or students from the nearby community college.
Once we reached La Bruschetta, the best (well, only) Italian restaurant in Union, Taylor’s dad told us he’d be back in an hour and a half to pick us up.
Tay pulled open the restaurant door for me. La Bruschetta had the perfect date-night ambience. The rustic wooden tables all had flickering votive candles on top, which provided most of the dim room’s lighting. The polished hardwood floors and cranberry-red cloth napkins matched the brick walls nicely. The entire restaurant smelled like garlic, marinara, and basil. The pizzas were all made in a large, open brick oven that was out in the open in the back of the room so you could watch them being made and going in to bake.
“Table for two,” Tay told the waitress who greeted us at the door.
She smiled, looking at us like we were two puppies in a pet store window and grabbed two menus before walking us to our table.
Taylor pulled out my chair and motioned for me to sit. You wouldn’t know by looking at him, but Tay was one of the most polite boys I’d ever met in Syracuse, Brooklyn, or Union. He looked like any cute jock—in good shape, dirty-blond hair with lighter white-blond at the ends, and his perpetually tan face from playing outdoor sports year round.
But his mother, who was huge into manners, brought him up well, and he was always pulling out chairs for me, opening doors for me, and offering to pick up the tab. I let him do everything but the last one—I believed that guys shouldn’t do all the paying. Still, I secretly loved that he offered every time. Along with his killer sense of humor and soft spot for animals (especially cats—my favorite animal after horses!), his old-school politeness-slash-manners were among my favorite of his qualities.
We’d been seated at a cozy table in the back. The votive candles flickered—the flame seeming to match the rhythm of people talking and laughing around us.
A waiter brought us a bread basket, along with whipped packets of butter and a butter knife.
I reached for a roll and broke it open. Steam rose, curling into the air. The butter melted right away and I took a small, polite bite.
“Mmm,” I said. “I love warm bread. I’d be happy just eating the entire basketful.”
Taylor, ever the boy, was already working on his second roll. “Me too,” he said unnecessarily. “But since we’re here, I guess we should look at the menu.” He grinned. “Got anything in mind?”
I scanned the pizza list. “Are you in the mood for pizza? We could each choose a topping for a side.”
“I’m always in the mood for pizza,” said Tay. “Does double cheese sound good on my side?”
“Only if pepperoni and black olives sound good on mine.”
“Done.” Taylor closed the menu just as the waiter came back.
“Good evening,” he said. “I’m Don and I’ll be your server tonight. May I start you off with some drinks?”
“Please,” said Taylor. “And we’re ready to order, too.”
“Excellent. For you, miss?” I noticed the absence of any pen or notepad. I couldn’t imagine doing such hard work and not even needing to write an order down. I shuddered to think what would happen if I ever became a waitress at La Bruschetta. No one here had ever written down an order. Without pen and notepad, I’d never stay organized enough to do my job. I’d get fired after one night!
“Miss?” Don repeated.
“I’ll have a Dr Pepper, please,” I said.
Don turned to Taylor. “I’d like a Coke and we’d like to share a medium pizza, half double cheese and half pepperoni and black olive.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Don said, smiling.
Once he’d left, Tay looked at me inquisitively. “What’s going on up there?” he asked kindly, tapping his own head. “That’s not the first time this week I’ve caught you daydreaming. Something on your mind?”
I laughed, my face feeling a little warm. Memories, good and bad, had been rising to the surface while I waited for my Canterwood letter. But now that I was sure it would be a rejection, I felt sure they would start to quiet soon enough. After all, I’d been caught daydreaming again, but this time it had been about what an awful waitress I’d make. But I didn’t want to waste a second of our date on something silly.
So instead, I said, “You caught me, and you’re right. I’ve been living in my head a lot lately—mostly thinking about Canterwood. But,” I added quickly, before I had to see a sad look even begin to cross Taylor’s face, “now that I know what Kim told them, I am totally focused on the now. You caught me, though, it’s true. But this time I wasn’t thinking about anything Canterwood related. Not at all.”
Taylor leaned toward me over the table. His elbows rested on the table and he laced his fingers together a couple of inches above his latest unfinished roll. I was relieved when a smile bloomed on his face. “No?” he said. “Then what were you thinking about, Laur-Bell?”
Without hesitation, I replied. “I was thinking about how great this night is turning out to be.”
It wasn’t a total lie. I had thought about that earlier.
“You’re just saying that because of the extra cheese coming your way,” he said.
His face was so serious, I erupted with laughter and, in turn, so did he.
“Maybe a little,” I said.
From there, Taylor and I jumped into conversation about school, swimming, and riding.
“You’re really going to dive from the highest board next meet?” I asked. “Your poor girlfriend must be insanely nervous!”
Taylor laughed. “Why? She doesn’t have to do it.”
“True. But she has to watch, which she promised to do, of course. I mean, she told me how proud she was of you. She might have to watch between the fingers covering her eyes.”
That made Taylor smile.
“I’ll be careful,” he said. “But don’t repeat that—I want the team at Madison to stay scared.”
I nodd
ed, pretending to be serious. “Consider it top secret. Madison will be shaking by the time they hit the pool.”
“Speaking of top secret,” Taylor said. “How’d your last lesson go?”
“Great,” I said. “But I didn’t tell you what I found out from Kim before.”
I’d said I hadn’t wanted to talk about Canterwood, but telling Tay this would ease his mind.
Taylor looked at me, curious.
“Kim told me that in my application, she told the committee about my jumping problem. So now there’s definitely no way I’m getting in. Who would want me after my accident?”
“Laur.” Taylor shook his head. “That’s so not true. Canterwood would be lucky to have you, and the second they review your application, they’ll realize it.”
“We’re going to have to agree to disagree, huh?” I said.
Tay nodded, swirling the ice in his glass with his straw. He held up his Coke and I did the same. We clinked our glasses together and smiled. If Tay believed in me, it made me feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I had a shot at Canterwood after all.
Taylor’s dad picked us up from the restaurant right on time. When we got to my house, I opened my door. I got out and turned to Taylor.
“Talk to you later,” I said. “Thanks for such an amazing night.”
Tay, aware of the never-kiss-in-front-of-parents rule, grinned at me. “I had an awesome time. And my girlfriend picked the most perfect movie ever.” His tone was teasing.
I pretended to look shocked.
“But then again,” he said, his voice soft. “Any movie is perfect when I’m with you.”
I brushed my thumb lightly against his chin, smiling.
“’Night, Tay.”
I headed for my front door. Elation tugged at me.
Even though I was 99 percent sure what I would see, I wished I had a crystal ball to look into my future.
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
THE NEXT MORNING I WOKE UP RIGHT before my alarm clock started buzzing. I hopped out of bed and pulled on fawn-colored breeches and a purple T-shirt dotted with small black hearts. Mom was already in her office, so I waved at her as I walked to the kitchen. I put my phone on the table and poured myself a giant bowl of Cheerios before sitting down. I had a riding lesson in an hour, but surprisingly, I wasn’t dreading it. Sunday group lessons had always been my favorite. I spooned cereal into my mouth and opened the group chat with Brielle and Ana on BlackBerry Messenger.
Lauren:
U guys awake?
My phone buzzed when I was halfway through my cereal bowl.
Brielle:
Woke up late!! But gonna b on time. Ana? Hellooo?
Ana:
Here! Couldn’t brush my teeth & type @ the same time. I’ll b on time 2. U, L?
Lauren:
Same. Prob early. Gotta go find Dad then leaving. C u guys there!
Brielle:
Ana:
Double
I finished my cereal, rinsed the bowl, and put it in the dishwasher. Then I headed to Dad’s usual Sunday morning spot—the back porch. Once I walked through the sliding glass door, I saw Dad exactly where I expected. He sat on a lounge chair, book in hand and a mug of strong black coffee beside him. Tea was definitely more my style—tea with sugar. Or Splenda. Splenda was sweeter than sugar when I needed maximum sweetness.
“Ready to go already?” Dad asked, peering up at me from his novel. It was a thriller—Dad was totally into action novels.
“Yep. Oh! And I’ll probably trail ride with Ana and Brielle after we’re done, so would it be okay if you picked me up a couple of hours after practice ends?”
Dad climbed out of his chair, nodding as he picked up his coffee. “Sure, sweetie. A trail ride sounds like a nice idea.”
Once we were on the road, I texted Brielle and Ana again.
Lauren:
We’re going 2 creek aftr lesson, rite? It’s gonna b hot out.
Ana:
I want to! Brielle?
Brielle:
Def. I just got off IM w a certain someone, so I need major girl talk . . .
Ana and I messaged nearly at the same second.
Lauren:
WHAT???
Ana:
Will?! U talked 2 Will???
Brielle made us wait an excruciatingly long time before she replied.
Brielle:
Not telling u over BBM! @ the creek.
Ana:
Laur, B is ridic mean!
I grinned, deciding to go along with Ana’s teasing.
Lauren:
I know, A. How sad 4 her that she has no one 2 talk 2 . . . all alone. In the car. With her MOM.
Ana:
Guess her Mom is her new BFF.
Lauren:
And she tells her all her secrets.
Brielle:
LOL. U dorks. Look up from your phones.
Huh?
I looked up. Dad had pulled the SUV to a halt in Kim’s parking lot. Parked beside us was Ana. Standing in front of the cars, arms crossed and looking smug, Brielle—shaking her head, laughing.
“Oh, my God,” I said, giggling. “How long have we been here?”
There was an amused smile on Dad’s face. “See what happens when you text and don’t pay attention? Your chauffeur has delivered you. Now get out of my car.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “’Bye, Dad. Love you.”
“TTYL, LT.”
I rolled my eyes at him jokingly. “Thanks, Jeeves,” I replied in kind. “Now run along.”
He clutched his heart. “That one hurt,” he said.
“You love me,” I laughed.
I got out and walked in front of the headlights to meet Brielle and Ana.
“That was pretty amazing,” Brielle said. Her thick black hair was tied back with a new glittery purple headband—I made a mental note to ask her where she’d gotten it later. “When would you guys have stopped texting, do you think?”
Ana shot me a go-with-me look. “Please. Lauren and I knew exactly what we were doing. We just . . . pretended not to know we’d, you know, stopped and that you were right in front of us.”
“Yeah,” I jumped in. “And we got you too—ha.”
Brielle stared at us and I tried to look back without squirming, but I couldn’t. I was always the first one to crack.
“Okay, okay!” I said, letting out the laugh I’d been holding in.
“Laur!” Ana shook her head. “Geez. Couldn’t even last ten seconds.”
The three of us linked arms and made our way toward the stable. In this moment, I couldn’t imagine leaving my friends, Cricket, Briar Creek, and certainly not Taylor. For the first time since she’d told me about it, I was glad Kim had told the Canterwood coach about my accident. Now I was prepared for the rejection. And possibly even a little relieved by it.
I walked down the aisle, passing the stalls. Some had been renovated recently and others were on the list. I examined Cricket’s stall, which hadn’t been redone yet. The wooden boards had been warped over the years by humidity. There were horseshoe scrapes in places where an upset horse had kicked the wood. At one time there had been a horse who’d cribbed the wood, leaving bite marks along the top of Cricket’s stall door.
“Hi, girly,” I said. Her gorgeous bay head poked over the stall door. She strained her neck to reach for me, and I rubbed her muzzle. What a cutie. “Let’s get you tacked up so we can get to our lesson. After, we’re going trail riding in the woods and we’ll cool off in the creek.”
When I’d first started riding Cricket, she’d hated trail riding. She’d wanted to stay close to the stable, fighting to go back whenever I’d take her out. But when Brielle, Ana, and I had become friends, we’d wanted to get away from the stable to talk and have fun. I’d told them how much Cricket hated the trails, but they weren’t worried.
We’d gone out, and immediately Cricket had started acting up—flaring her nostrils and putting her ears back. After a
few minutes she’d started to watch Breeze, who was enjoying every second of the ride. Cricket began to relax more and more each time we went out. Now I often forgot how much she’d used to hate it.
I grabbed her tack, got her groomed and ready, and, together, we headed to the indoor arena. We were the first inside.
Brielle, Ana, Leah, and Dianna trickled in as we warmed up. I had a feeling today would be a flat-work lesson. I didn’t see any jumps set up. Plus, we’d jumped last time and Kim had given us a dressage pattern to memorize at the end of last week’s lesson. I could memorize a dressage test in minutes. If only that applied to schoolwork!
We warmed up our horses by walking and trotting them in circles and figure eights. The indoor arena wasn’t very big, so we had to be mindful of where everyone else was in the arena.
Kim walked inside, and I smiled when I saw what was in her hand—dressage markers.
“Leah? Ana? Would you mind dismounting and helping me place these?” Kim asked.
Both girls got out of their saddles and took a handful of markers from Kim. They placed them around the arena, and soon the markers, A, K, E, H, C, M, B, F, were in place in the twenty-by-forty meter pattern.
My heartbeat picked up.
This was my world. I lived and breathed dressage. I’d first seen it in the Olympics when I was five. I’d been hooked ever since.
My parents had taken me to a local show a few weeks later. I remember sneaking away from them to go down by the arena, as close as I could get, to watch. The horse and rider, so in sync, had been captivating.
“Lauren?” Kim called. “Pay attention, okay?”
“Sorry,” I said. My face burned with embarrassment and I snapped out of my daydream.
She turned her gaze back to our group. “You’re each going to ride the dressage pattern you’ve memorized,” Kim continued. “I will not be calling out movements unless you get off track. Leah, I’d like you to ride first.”
Leah, a fairly pretty brunette, was the least experienced dressage rider in our class, but she was learning fast.
She nodded to Kim and tightened her reins. Her Dutch Warmblood gelding, Forrest, was huge at almost seventeen hands high—a funny match for his petite rider—but Leah rode him so well. The rest of us moved our horses out of the way and prepared to watch her ride.
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