We have carefully reviewed your information and have given considerable thought to the possibility of your future as a student at Canterwood Crest Academy. This process is one which we at the Academy do not take lightly. Our students are the best and brightest in the nation—many of whom have gone on to become doctors, lawyers, Olympians, and future leaders of our country. Many have won prestigious awards, such as the Pulitzer and the Nobel Peace Prize, not to mention numerous national awards within our graduates’ chosen fields of practice.
Acceptance to Canterwood Crest Academy is not only an honor, it is a symbol of each candidate’s potential to become one of the greatest students, most successful athletes, and most prestigious scholars.
It is with great pleasure that we are offering you a spot this fall.
To those who have been accepted, we would be honored to have you in attendance. You have already attained a goal that most are not considered talented enough to attain. Congratulations on taking the first step on your journey toward becoming one of the most sought-after scholars in the nation. Your journey has only just begun, and your acceptance is only the beginning of your future as a role model and leader.
Please let us know at your earliest convenience of your decision, and we look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Headmistress Drake
I read the words over and over until they melted together.
“No! No way! Omigod—it’s not, it’s—omigod!” I screamed, clutching the letter as I jumped up.
I left the rest of the mail on the porch and turned toward the door.
I had to tell Mom and Dad! And—oh, Becca!
After minutes of shock it hit me all at once at full force—I’d been chosen.
IN
“MOM, DAD!” I CALLED WHEN I GOT INSIDE.
“Mom!”
“Lauren, what’s wrong?” Mom said, hurrying from her office.
Dad appeared right behind her, his eyes wide. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I got it! I got it!” I screamed, probably rattling the windows in the house.
“Got what? Lauren!” Mom reached for my hand that was waving the envelope in the air. She plucked it from my hand, saw the letter, and scanned it speed-reader-lawyer style.
“Oh, Lauren!” Mom dropped the letter on the foyer table and ran over to grab me and wrap me up in a hug.
“I’m in! I squealed.” I’m going to Canterwood!”
“I knew it!” Dad swooped me off the ground and twirled me around like I was five again. “I’m so proud of my little Laur-Bell. Oh, honey. You did it! You’re in!”
I was laughing—and dizzy—when he set me down.
“Lauren, come into the kitchen,” Mom said. “Let me make you some lemonade. You must be thirsty from all that screaming.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Mom. There’s so much to do. Omigosh—I have to tell people. Taylor, maybe even Ana and Brielle. . . . Can I go call all of my friends after?”
“Of course you can,” Mom said. “I’m going to call Grandma and Grandpa. They’ll be so happy for you.”
I took a sip of my mother’s fresh-squeezed lemonade, the glass rimmed with sugar.
“Yum, Mom. Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” Mom said. “And think about where you want to go for dinner tonight—it’s your choice.”
I got up from the table, grinning, and with my lemonade in hand took the stairs two at a time to my room. I was bummed that Becca wasn’t home—she was out with her boyfriend. But there was no way I’d tell her via text; I’d wait until she got home.
I opened BBM and scrolled to my group chat with Brielle and Ana.
Lauren:
Can u guys talk?
The wait, even though it was only seconds, felt excruciating. After our last conversation, I didn’t know how this one would go, but I had to tell them. I just had to.
Brielle:
Laur?! Totally! Call me!
Ana:
Me too!
Lauren:
Okay—calling u guys now.
I got them on conference call. It was better just to get it over with. Tell them right away, I told myself.
“So what’s going on?” Brielle asked. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Ana said. “You scared me—I thought something bad happened.”
“Sorry. I mean, it’s not bad news. Not even close. Guys, I . . . ”
I didn’t know how to tell them. I froze. Was I supposed to sound elated that I was going to Canterwood, which meant I was leaving them and Yates, especially after the weirdness that had passed between us at practice? Or was I supposed to sound excited but a little sad?
Just be honest and say how you feel, I decided. They have been your best friends for a year and a half. They’re going to be happy if you are, no matter what happened at practice. “Laur?” Bri and Ana said at the same time.
“I . . . I got my letter from Canterwood just a few minutes ago.”
There was silence on the other lines.
Just say it.
“I got in.”
“LAUREN!” Brielle and Ana screamed into the phone at the same time.
Giggling, I held it away from my ear while they shrieked. Relief at their reactions made my palms stop sweating.
“I totally knew it!” Ana said. “You were in from the second you applied.”
“So in,” Brielle added. “You’re going to Canterwood! To boarding school!”
I tried not to read into her “boarding school” comment. Canterwood was a boarding school, after all.
“I know.” I shifted in my window nook. “I can’t believe it. I’d been away from home a lot back when I was on the show circuit. But . . . this is permanent. I’ll only be coming back home for holidays and breaks.”
The thought made my heart beat a little faster. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d see Ana and Brielle over breaks or if they’d be attached to Hannah.
“But there are tons of holidays,” Ana put in. “And you won’t be too far away. On some of our days off, you know Brielle and I are totally going to crash your dorm room and visit.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“Of course,” Brielle said. She sounded earnest. “This is your shot, Lauren. We know you can’t pass it up. We’re going to IM and Skype every day. You’ll see more of us from Canterwood than you do here.”
“Thanks, guys. That’s really good to hear,” I said. “It was a little hard to tell you. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel. But. We are besties. Nothing dumb like distance is going to change what we shared in the past.”
“It is sad,” Ana said. “We’ll miss you, obviously. But it would have been way more sad for all of us if you hadn’t gotten in. We know you’re going to do great, Laur.”
“Thanks,” I said, taken aback by Ana’s sudden maturity.
“This is a huge deal. Celebration huge,” Brielle said. “So I say we have a giant sleepover weekend this summer.”
“Brielle,” Ana said. “is totally right. You better free up your time.”
I laughed. “I think I can squeeze you guys in. Maybe.”
After we hung up and I put my phone down, I hugged my knees to my chest. I couldn’t stop the slow smile that spread across my face.
I’m going to Canterwood.
I stared out the window at the lawn. This time next year, I wouldn’t be sitting here. I’d be looking out another window, hours away, at a place I’d only seen in a virtual tour online.
Then reality hit me: Going to Canterwood meant everything was going to change.
Everything.
I was leaving Yates—a school I loved. Where up until I’d applied to Canterwood I’d fit in spectacularly well. Becca, Mom, and Dad would go on with their daily routine that I knew by heart, except I wouldn’t be here. Charlotte, who was coming home from college next week, would be home all summer and then we’d both be leaving in the fall. I forced myself to take a breath and a gulp of lem
onade. My cheeks were suddenly burning.
You’re not leaving right this second I told myself. You’ll be here all summer and a few weeks of fall.
There was plenty of time to prepare and do the thing that always made me feel better—make lists of things I needed to do. Lists always calmed me. I had them all over my room—on my whiteboard, my computer, and on sticky notes on my door. Dad teased me that one day I was going to write “make a list” on one of my already existing lists.
The sun was starting to sink a little, an orange and yellow ball that was already half-hidden behind the trees in our backyard.
I picked up my phone and lemonade and slid my feet into white flip-flops. I walked downstairs and out the back door, bypassing the pool and going deeper into the backyard, to the hammock. It was my secret spot that I went to whenever I wanted to get out of the house and make private phone calls.
I loved the sun. Summer was my favorite season. I loved everything about it—especially fashion. Flip-flops, skirts, tank tops, and scented body sprays that smelled like summer fruits—grapefruit, sugar-peach, plum passion.
I climbed into the hammock and set my lemonade down on the plastic outdoor table. I stretched out, my fingers hovering over the speed-dial button for Taylor. I had to get it over with. I knew he’d be happy for me, but I wanted to tell him that this was something I wanted to talk about in person. He was my boyfriend. My decision to go to Canterwood would change everything for us.
Before I could sit there any longer, I pressed the three button.
“Hey,” Taylor said.
“Hi.” I heard papers shuffling in the background. “Are you busy?”
“For you,” Taylor said. “Never too busy. I was just tossing a bunch of stuff from school that I didn’t need. I can’t believe tomorrow’s really our last day. Can you?”
“No! This year went by so fast. We were the little kid sixth-graders and now we’re almost seventh-graders.”
“I know. I’m so glad classes are over. Summer break is going to be awesome. We can go out whenever we want. I already asked my parents about getting my curfew extended so I don’t have to be home before dark.” Taylor laughed.
“No kidding. We’ve got months to do whatever we want. All I want to do is hang out with you, maybe see Brielle and Ana—try that out again and see how it goes—and ride. No staying up until one to finish a paper for history, or spending all weekend doing a science project.”
“As if we’re going to need to know the parts of a cell when we graduate,” Taylor said. I couldn’t see him, but I knew him well enough to know he was rolling his eyes.
“Right,” I said, shaking my head. “Or memorizing lines from ancient poems that I can’t even understand. I admit that I like some poetry, but the stuff we read in my English class this year? We spent six weeks reading these crazy poems that you had to google to even understand.”
I was stalling. I admit it.
“My brain’s going to explode if we talk about school for another second,” Taylor said. “Change the subject. Please!”
“Well, actually I called because I have something to tell you.”
“What’s up?”
All of Taylor’s attention was on me. That was one of the things I loved about him—he was a great listener.
“I wanted to tell you in person, but I couldn’t wait until school tomorrow. So . . . I got a letter from Canterwood today.”
“Lauren. You’ve been waiting for that forever! What did it say?”
“I can’t believe it, but—” I paused, nervous. “I got in, Taylor.”
“I knew it! I wish I was there to kiss you right now. I’m so proud of you, Lauren!”
He was proud, too. I could tell it wasn’t just words. I knew he’d be happy for me—it had been my own nerves that had gotten in the way of thinking he’d be anything but happy for me.
“I can’t wait to see you at the dance tomorrow night,” Taylor said. “There’s so much we need to talk about and celebrate.”
With everything that had been going on, I’d honestly forgotten about the dance. I didn’t even have a dress!
“I’m excited, too. And I definitely want to talk, Taylor. I know this doesn’t just affect me, so please don’t think that I’m not thinking about that or ignoring the fact that you’re involved, too.”
“I never thought that, Laur-Bell. We’re going to sit down and figure this out together—however we have to do it. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
I heard someone calling Taylor in the background.
“I’ve got to go,” he said. “Mom needs me to help unload groceries.”
“I’ll BBM you later,” I said.
“And Lauren? Congratulations. I’m really, really proud of you.”
We hung up and I put the phone on my chest. I stayed in the hammock until dusk. It was très parfait out here.
Taylor’s words rolled around in my head, especially “however we have to do it.” The backyard started to glow with blinking fireflies while I tried to dissect what he’d meant. I was sure he meant figure out how our long-distance relationship would work.
But what if he wanted to break up?
I suddenly felt heavy, like the hammock would break under my weight. I hadn’t even had time to think that far ahead—about my future with Taylor. I was so certain I wouldn’t get in. I knew I wanted to stay together, but he had to want that too. Not that he had given me any indication that he didn’t want to. I was sure I’d read too much into what he’d said.
Stop.
Just enjoy the moment, I told myself. I’d just been accepted to my dream school! Taylor and I would figure out where we’d go from here when we were face-to-face.
A few dark, puffy clouds started to roll over me and thunder boomed miles away. I loved storms. Usually I sat in the window, watching while I drank a cup of tea or did homework or read.
This time I stayed in the hammock until the rain splattered against the deck and soaked through my clothes, my hair, and ran over my skin.
Sitting in the hammock, drenched in rainwater and thinking about my shiny new future, all I could do was smile and think about the new me: Lauren Towers, Canterwood Crest Academy étudiante (aka student).
I got up from the hammock, heading for the laundry room to leave my wet clothes. I changed, and with my hair still wet, went looking for Mom and Dad. There was someone I couldn’t tell over the phone. Someone who had been the reason why I’d been accepted.
My parents were in the living room, their address books on the coffee table and phones in hand.
“We’re still calling friends and family,” Mom said. “Grandma and Grandpa are so excited for you, sweetie. They can’t wait to talk with you later.”
I smiled. “I can’t wait to tell them about Canterwood. But there’s someone I want to tell in person.”
They knew before I said her name.
“I’ll get my keys,” Dad said.
When we reached Briar Creek, I was relieved to see the lights on in the stable. I hadn’t called first, but I knew Kim would be at the stable. She was there late every night.
“I’ll be just a minute,” I told Dad, opening the car door.
“Take your time,” he said.
The rain had stopped, and I walked through the muggy air into the stable. It was quiet except for the occasional snort or stomp from a horse. I walked down the aisle to the hallway outside Kim’s office. Her door was open and she was writing in a ledger.
“Hi, Kim,” I said, my voice soft.
“Lauren.” Kim looked up from a stack of paperwork. She had one pen in her hand and one stuck behind her ear. “Is everything okay? I didn’t know you were coming.” She motioned for me to sit. I stepped into her office and sat in a red chair opposite her.
“Everything’s more than okay,” I said.
Kim smiled. “What’s going on, missy? I can see it in your face that something’s up.”
“I . . . I checked the mail when I got
home from school,” I said. Every word spilled out faster than the last, leaving me almost breathless. “And there was nothing. I mean, there was junk mail. And bills. And magazines. And I dropped Dad’s Sports Illustrated. I picked it up and I saw it.”
Kim bit back a grin. “And what might ‘it’ be?”
“A letter. From Canterwood. I was so scared to open it. I was sure, so sure I wasn’t getting in.” My words slowed as I got myself together. “I wasn’t going to even open it right away. But I did.”
“And?” Kim asked, but there was an I-already-know tone to her voice.
“I got in,” I whispered. “Canterwood said yes.”
“Lauren! Congratulations!”
Kim got up, walked around her desk and hugged me. When she let me go and I sat back down, I felt like I’d finished a marathon. There was no way I would have been able to wait a day to tell Kim.
“I knew you’d get in, sweetie,” Kim said. “You were an ideal candidate from the second you applied.”
I leaned back in my chair. “I definitely didn’t know. I was sure Canterwood would take one look at my application, see my accident, and toss my papers in the trash. I didn’t think I was good enough.”
“Laur, the accident doesn’t define you,” Kim said. “You’re more than what happened. You’re a bright, talented rider and a great student. Any school would be lucky to have you—now Canterwood will be.”
I looked at Kim, thinking how devastated I’d been when she’d told me that Canterwood knew about my accident. That she’d told them. I’d been sure Kim had sealed my fate. And she had—she’d secured me a yes.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything. I wouldn’t have gotten in without your letter of recommendation or all of the hours you’ve worked with me. I love riding again because of you and Briar Creek.”
Kim’s smile couldn’t have been any bigger. “You’re welcome. But don’t take credit away from yourself. Canterwood accepted you—not my letter.”
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