Initiation

by Jessica Burkhart

  Everyone moved to grab a packet. It was going to take Khloe and me forever from our spot at the back of the room. Riley stood and it was as if she had an electric field around her. Girls moved aside, many even ducking their heads, as Riley walked to the table with Clare on her heels.

  “It’s like the parting of the sea,” someone muttered.

  I turned and Lexa was beside me.

  “No kidding,” I said. “It’s like she has magic powers.”

  Khloe rolled her eyes. “Riley has a big mouth. She never actually does anything, but she has a way with backhanded compliments and making competition a sport of its own.”

  “Khlo!” Clare reached her friend, her bouncing red curls sticking out in the crowd. “I thought I saw you back there with Lauren and Lex.”

  Clare handed Khloe three packets.

  “Thanks. We would have been waiting forever,” Khloe said. “Ooh, hey, Lauren and I just finished decorating our room.” She looked at Lexa and Clare. “You guys want to come see?”

  Clare’s mouth opened and she paused, her eyes darting to the doorway. Riley stood there talking to a brunette I didn’t know. “I would, but Riley’s waiting. Sorry. I promised to go with her to The Slice.”

  “Okay, enjoy your pizza,” Khloe said. “Maybe later?”

  “Def,” Clare said. “Bye.” She disappeared after Riley.

  Khloe turned to Lexa and me as if it didn’t bother her, but I saw disappointment flicker in her eyes.

  “I can’t right now,” Lexa said. “I’m meeting Jill and some friends from Orchard and Blackwell. But later for sure!” She frowned. “I’m sorry—I feel like I’m bailing on you after Clare blew you off.”

  “Clare didn’t blow me off,” Khloe said. “She—” Stopping, Khloe rubbed her temples. “I don’t want to fight about Clare.”

  “Me either. Sorry, KK.”

  The girls smiled at each other and Lexa promised to come over when she was done hanging with her friends. Together, Khloe and I went back to our room.

  The rest of the afternoon and evening went by fast—almost too fast. Khloe’s desk arrived, we set it up together and then it was time for dinner. We ate and met up with Lexa who brought her roommate, Jill Carson, and they marveled at our room.

  “Can I hire you two as our decorators?” Jill had asked. Lexa nodded in agreement.

  I was proud that someone else liked our room. And proud that people were getting to know me.

  Once alone again, Khloe and I changed into pj’s, read and signed our packets from Christina. For a while, I texted Brielle and Ana while Khloe watched Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. My nervous energy took over and I organized and re-organized my binder for classes. I had everything sectioned off with colored tabs. Assignments. Schedule. Completed homework. Extra Credit.

  When there wasn’t anything left to rearrange, I pulled a mug from one of the cabinets. I wanted to make tea, but it was late—too late for me to leave our room. Instead, I stuck the mug of water inside our microwave and plucked a bag of Celestial Seasonings’ Sleepytime tea from its box.

  You really need to chill, I told myself. But tomorrow is a huge day . I shifted from foot to foot until the microwave beeped.

  I dropped in the tea bag and stirred in a packet of Splenda. I put my mug on my nightstand and waited for the tea to steep. Khloe switched the movie to TV, pausing on a celebrity gossip channel.

  “Did you hear that Annalynn and Tate broke up?” Khloe asked.

  “No! They just got back together!” The sixteen-year-olds dominated box offices this summer with their romantic comedy and the gossip mags boasted that they’d taken their sizzling romance offscreen, too.

  I leaned against my cozy pillow, not even realizing that my eyelids got heavier and heavier. I drifted off to sleep with my tea still steaming beside my bed.

  MONDAY MORNINGS SUCK

  BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP!

  Faint sunlight filtered through the curtains. I reached over and shut off the alarm, almost knocking over the cup of tea I hadn’t gotten to touch last night before I fell asleep.

  I’d had nightmares all night. The worst one had left me sweaty and gasping for air. I’d buried my head under the covers, trying to calm myself in the dark. If I’d been at home, I would have climbed into Becca’s bed and she would have wrapped an arm around me until we both fell back asleep.

  But Becca hadn’t been there last night and it wasn’t like I could wake Khloe.

  The memory of the nightmare rushed back, making my heart beat a little faster.

  I’d dreamed that I’d gone to my riding test. Instead of it being a closed session, every single rider from each grade filled the arena. Even Sasha Silver and her friends. Mr. Conner told me that I couldn’t test. I asked him why and he said, “You may still be Lauren Towers, but you’re not the rider you used to be.”

  Out of nowhere, a giant TV appeared and footage I recognized all too well started to play. I was riding at the Red Oak Horse Trial. The announcer called my name and my mount’s—Skyblue.

  I begged Mr. Conner to stop the footage from playing, but it was if he didn’t hear me.

  No one heard me.

  They didn’t pay attention to anything but Lauren on the TV.

  “Lauren,” Mr. Conner said. “You can’t keep secrets at Canterwood.”

  Once I’d woken up, it had taken me hours to get back to sleep, and when I finally had, it was almost time to get up.

  I looked at Khloe. She was sprawled on her bed, one of her tan legs dangling off the side. She’d set her own alarm to get up later, so I didn’t wake her.

  I hopped into the shower, lathering my long hair with Bumble and bumble shampoo. The coconut-scented kind was my favorite. I rinsed, applied conditioner, and combed it through my hair before clipping it up. Once a week or just before special occasions, I let conditioner stay on my hair for a few extra minutes to make it as soft and shiny as possible. It was an EBT—essential beauty tip—that Brielle had taught me.

  I squeezed vanilla-scented body wash into my loofah sponge and scrubbed down to my toes. Once I finished my shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and got dressed. The shower felt as though it washed away all the remnants and worries of last night.

  Now I was ready to focus on today. First thing this morning, Headmistress Drake was holding a meeting in the auditorium.

  After that, I had math. At least I was looking forward to that—Khloe and Lexa were in my class.

  Khloe hadn’t moved an inch since I’d showered. I giggled. Khloe had really meant what she’d said about sleeping until the last possible minute.

  I took inventory of my reflection in the mirror. One pale blue T-shirt with a tiny pocket. One flowy black knee-length skirt. And silver ballet flats with ruffles around the edges. I’d picked out my outfit the night before as usual.

  I unwrapped my hair and misted it with Bb Prep. I’d gone simple with accessories—tiny white-gold diamond studs and a matching necklace with a letter L dangling from a thin chain.

  I microwaved a cup of hot water and made white pear tea for a little boost. I didn’t want to have green tea—I already had enough energy.

  I picked up my BlackBerry and opened my Chatter application to post a quick message.

  LaurBell: Getting ready 4 1st day @ Canterwood! So nervous.

  At my desk, I set up my makeup mirror and pulled out my bag from Sephora. The Canterwood handbook didn’t restrict seventh graders from wearing makeup, but it did say that we weren’t allowed to wear makeup or clothes that were “distracting.”

  Khloe’s alarm, her iPod plugged into a dock, suddenly started to play an upbeat morning mix. Khloe swiped at the snooze button and missed.

  “Argh!” she grumbled. She hit the clock and silenced the music. She fell back into bed.

  Biting my lip to keep from giggling, I rubbed tinted moisturizer with sunscreen onto my face then applied a light dusting of champagne-colored eye shadow over my lids. Finally, I rubbed Smith’s Rosebud salve ove
r my lips, and used my angled brush to sweep a shimmery peach blush over my cheeks.

  My phone beeped and a smiley face icon lit up on my screen. I had a Chatter reply.

  BrielleisaBeauty: @LaurBell U r going 2 do GREAT, LT! u!

  I wrote her back and included Ana.

  @BrielleisaBeauty: Hope so! I miss u guys! Have a good 1st day @ Yates! @AnaArtiste

  Khloe’s music started again and, finally, groaning, she sat up. She brushed back her long hair and turned off the alarm.

  “Monday mornings suck,” Khloe grumbled.

  “Would coffee or tea help?” I asked.

  Khloe smiled, rubbing her eyes. “Thanks, but I’m okay. We’ll grab breakfast at the cafeteria—you don’t have to get me anything.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But I am a morning person. So if you ever want anything in the morning, let me know.”

  “Thanks, I will,” Khloe said, getting out of bed and stretching. I loved her Xhilaration pj’s from Target—dark blue pants with multicolored dots and a hot-pink tank top with lace straps. “Do you need the bathroom? If not, I’m going in.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I’m going to dry my hair out here in front of the big mirror.”

  While Khloe got ready, I dried my hair—taking my time to section it off and use a round brush to leave it smooth but wavy. I decided to leave it natural today—no flatiron.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about what could happen today. I vacillated between being nauseous-slash-nervous and excited-slash-terrified. I turned off the dryer and saw a fully dressed Khloe waving at me.

  “Do you want to set your hair on fire?” she asked, her tone light. “You’ve been drying that section for a while.”

  “Really?” I touched my hair and it almost burned my fingertips. “Oops. Thanks, Khlo. Must be nerves.”

  Khloe walked over. “Your hair looks great.”

  “Thanks. Just a little more drying and—”

  “Lauren.” Khloe cut me off and touched my arm. “It’s okay to be scared. Now, let’s stop drying your hair before it fries, put on your shoes, and then we’ll grab our bags and go. I know what you’re feeling—I was beyond nervous.”

  “But you’re so outgoing! I can’t imagine you scared.”

  “When I’m onstage or playing a character, it’s easy to be like that. But when I’m just Khloe Kinsella, I’m not anyone who I portray onstage. I’m anxious about this morning, too. Even though it’s my second year, classes are new and it’s like everything is reset to zero. I have to do things all over again, too, like getting used to the fast pace of Canterwood . . . and readying for my audition on Friday.”

  Khloe gently took the hair dryer away from me and placed it on the desk. “I just want you to know that I’ll be there for you today. You can always BBM me even if you just have a question or want to say hi. Okay?”

  “Thanks, Khloe. That makes me feel a lot better. It’s weird—I’ve changed schools a bunch of times. But Canterwood feels so overwhelming. I really want to do well and fit in.”

  “You will,” Khloe said. “You’ve already got Lexa and me. I think you and Jill will get along really well, too. Everyone in our grade is going to like you. It’ll be the same at the stable; Lexa introduced you to Cole, so you already know one more person there!”

  I nodded.

  Khloe’s brown eyes were so sincere. After knowing me for a weekend, she was already trying to comfort me and be a good friend. Guilt settled into my stomach. You should have told her this weekend about your competition past, I scolded myself.

  Khloe was my roommate and fast becoming my friend—she didn’t deserve to have someone keeping a giant secret from her. I even wanted to tell her—I just wasn’t ready quite yet. It had taken me a long time of getting to know Ana and Brielle before I’d even told them.

  I realized I hadn’t answered Khloe. “Um . . . y-you’re right,” I stammered. “I do know people, and I will definitely BBM you if I need to.”

  “You better.” Khloe smiled. “Let’s get to the assembly.”

  I put on my ballet flats and picked up my bag. And Khloe slung her leather satchel over her shoulder, a spiral notebook in her arms.

  Together, we walked down the hallway in Hawthorne with other students around us. I felt as though I could breathe a little better after Khloe’s pep talk.

  “Does Canterwood provide a rolling cart for us to carry all of our books?” I said, only half joking. “It feels like I’ve got bricks in my bag.”

  “If only,” Khloe said. “But you can swing by our room between classes if you have time.”

  I thought about how strange that would be—how strange it was to be at boarding school in general.

  Khloe and I walked to the auditorium full of students. A few plush red seats were left. The huge stage had a microphone stand set up front and center. Red curtains were raised, and I glanced around at all the lights. The room was huge. Cherubs had been carved into the beautiful cherry wood moldings.

  “How many grades are here now?” I asked Khloe, still in awe.

  “Seventh and eighth.” Khloe said, scanning the room. Someone waved; I could only see an arm. “There’s a separate auditorium for the high school.”

  “Wow,” I exhaled.

  “Lexa and Jill are over there,” Khloe said. “Bet they prob saved us seats!”

  We walked down the aisle, the stairs well lit by the overhead lights and ropes of lights along each side.

  “Excuse me,” Khloe said as we entered the aisle where Lex and Jill sat. We made our way past a few students, trying not to step on toes or backpacks. There were two empty seats—one beside Lexa and the other next to Jill.

  Jill had her shoulder-length, light brown hair in a low side ponytail that had been curled at the end by a curling iron. Jill’s hair was très chic. Plus, I loved the pretty spray of freckles across her nose. She wore black-plastic-framed glasses (très belle!) that drew attention to her bright green eyes.

  “Thanks for saving us seats,” I said, walking past Lex and taking the seat next to Jill. Khloe settled in the seat by Lexa.

  “No prob,” Jill said. “I got here first. Lex couldn’t find one of her books, so she told me to go without her.”

  The auditorium lights dimmed as the collective noisy conversations simmered to occasional whispers as Head-mistress Drake walked up the stairs, her heels clicking across the wooden floor. My smile brightened as I caught a flash of the vibrant red on the unmistakable Louboutin heels. Headmistress Drake looked all business in a black skirt, blazer, and white shirt. A gold pin with the school’s crest gleamed on her lapel. Her shiny black hair was chopped in a stylish bob.

  “Good morning,” she said. “Welcome to a new year at Canterwood Crest Academy.”

  SECOND CHANCES DON’T EXIST

  THE HEADMISTRESS’S WORDS GAVE ME goose bumps. She stood before me, seeming to see each and every student in the room.

  “Each of you, returning or new, is here because you were accepted to an institution with the highest of standards,” Headmistress Drake said. “As is done at the beginning of each academic year, I would like to take this opportunity to read aloud the Canterwood Crest Academy conduct code and policy agreement. This will ensure that all of you know what is expected of you by your instructors, your peers, and all of the Canterwood Crest community, including faculty and staff, alumni, and of course, myself.”

  This was serious. There was no hint of a smile on the headmistress’s face. Her firm tone was enough for me to vow never to end up in her office.

  Ever.

  For any reason.

  “Your commitment to excellence began the moment you walked through these doors.” Headmistress Drake pointed toward the double doors at the back of the auditorium. She continued. “Collectively, the people sitting in this room today—and those who have sat here in the years, decades, and generations before you, have dedicated themselves to building a reputation that is regaled and respected nationwide. We pride ourselves on students
who are now and have always been committed to academic excellence, and who strive to inspire fellow leaders throughout our great country and beyond.

  “Our students are human beings who take advantage of opportunity.”

  As Drake paused to sip from her rectangular bottle of Fiji water, it occurred to me that there was no giggling, no note passing that I could see, no rolling of eyes. Every single student—including me—was held rapt. Hanging on every last word.

  “As I was saying,” Drake said, “upon completion of your journey at Canterwood Crest Academy, you find”—she paused to smile—“the world will be your oyster. The metaphorical pearl at its center, the rare but beautiful stone, is the Academy—the place that made you who you are. The very institution that gave you every tool, every key, you’ll ever need to unlock the door through which one achieves greatness in any and every one of life’s endeavors.

  “And all that we ask in return is that you treat your school and, however temporary, your home with the care and respect that pearl, that elusive key to greatness, deserves.”

  There was a whoosh while all the seventh- and eighth-grade students jumped to their feet, and then a deafening roar of applause. Those who could, showed off their two-fingers-in-the-mouth whistling trick.

  I was stunned.

  During the applause, Khloe reached past Lexa and Jill to squeeze my hand and smile at me. Her smile, though I’d only just met her, was easy for me to read. It said, These are going to be the best and scariest years of your life, and you’re going to love. Every. Minute.

  The second squeeze was easier to read and told me something I suddenly realized I wanted with all my heart.

  It said, And I’m going to be there the whole time if you want me there.

  I smiled, nodded, and squeezed back. Yes!

  “Okay, have a seat,” Drake said. In an instant we all sat, and the room was silent once again. “I trust you all have read the updated handbook and are familiar with our rules and regulations.” Headmistress Drake’s face was no longer smiling or friendly. “There will be no grace period for broken rules. You have had all summer to familiarize yourself with the codes of conduct.