My face burned.
I thought we’d had this problem corrected over the summer. Whisper responded immediately, slowing to a trot. But Drew cantered Polo around us, followed by Riley and Clare. Riley probably couldn’t wait for the lesson to be over so she could laugh about my mistake.
“Good call to make her trot, Lauren,” Mr. Conner said. “Now, ask her to change gaits again.”
I slid my leg behind the girth, asking Whisper to canter. Within two strides, she moved into a canter.
Every ounce of my focus was on Whisper for the rest of the lesson. She was an angel while Mr. Conner worked with us. We worked through basic exercises and right when I felt like we were really in a groove, Mr. Conner held up his hand, signaling us to come to the center. I ended up next to Riley. She reached over and patted my arm.
Ew! Had she really just touched me?!
“Don’t worry, Lauren,” Riley said. Her tone was low enough so that Mr. Conner, who was still making notes, couldn’t hear. “I’m sure Mr. Conner won’t take you off the intermediate team just because you made one really dumb mistake on the first day.”
I didn’t look at her.
Mr. Conner would never . And cattiness was just so not my scene.
“Great first practice, everyone,” Mr. Conner said. “Remember, this is practice. Mistakes will be made. It’s the reason why you’re all here.”
I could have sworn he looked at Riley for the briefest of seconds when he said that last sentence.
“Each day will be a new chance. To work out kinks, become stronger riders, bond as a team, and work so that when we do compete, you’re connected. You trust each other. I hope to see you make mistakes and learn from them.”
I twisted Whisper’s mane in my fingers.
“If you’re not making mistakes, you’re either not pushing yourself to try more difficult moves or you’re afraid to look bad in front of your teammates. Those are riders who should think carefully about their place on this team.”
Mr. Conner looked at each of us. “Please dismount and thoroughly cool your horses. I’ll see you at tomorrow’s lesson.”
HEAD? MEET DESK.
“LAUR? LAUR?” SOMEONE RUBBED MY shoulder.
“Huh?” I lifted my head from my desk, my vision blurry. I rubbed my eyes. “I just closed my eyes for a sec. I have math and science—then I’m done.”
I sat up in my desk chair. My homework was spread across my desk. Then I looked back at Khloe. Pretty, wide-awake Khloe in jeans, wedges, and a deep purple lacey cami with a dark gray cardigan.
“Why are you dressed?” I asked, more awake now.
Khloe leaned against the wall. “I’m dressed for class. Lauren, it’s time to get ready! You must have fallen asleep at your desk last night.”
“What?! No.” I glanced at the clock. Seven forty. A.m.
“Omigod. Omigod. Khloe, how could I have fallen asleep? I didn’t finish my homework! I have math first period.” I flipped furiously through my notebook, some pages beginning to tear.
“Hey.” Khloe gently pushed my hands away and took the book. “Hey, it happens. I’ll be in class with you. Maybe you could turn in the problems you have and then ask for make-up work. Ms. Utz won’t be mean about it.”
I rubbed my face in my hands—mascara coming off on my hands. I hadn’t showered after my lesson yesterday. When I’d gotten back, I realized I had so much work to do that I’d thrown on my loungey clothes and decided to tackle some homework before showering. At dinnertime, I was deep into history homework. I’d told Khloe to go on without me, even though she said she’d wait. I’d never made it to the cafeteria.
My stomach rumbled as a reminder.
Khloe put a glass of OJ and a blueberry muffin in front of me. “Eat that,” she said. “I tried to wake you up, but you were out. There’s no time to hit the caf for breakfast, but at least it’s something.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Did you eat?”
“I had a muffin, too,” Khloe said. “And stop apologizing! Want me to get your papers and stuff put away so you can get cleaned up and dressed?”
Khloe was right—I had no time to even finish the last ten math problems. During lunch, I’d be able to do science since it was my last class today.
I hated this. I was not this girl. I’d never turned in anything half-completed. It was only the third day of classes—making a good impression on my new teachers was important to me.
“Please,” I finally said. “Thank you, Khlo. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t worry about it.”
I was so upset about my homework, I didn’t even care what I wore. That was a first, too. I grabbed plain, boot-cut jeans and a hunter green scoop-neck T-shirt. With the bathroom door shut behind me, I looked in the mirror.
I had notebook paper lines on my right cheek, a pencil smudge on my nose, and my eyes were bloodshot. Mascara had smeared under my eyes—making my already dark circles that much darker.
I scrubbed my face, applied moisturizer, brushed my hair, and pulled it into a ponytail. I brushed my teeth and finished dressing.
I came out, tossed yesterday’s clothes on my bed and saw my bag all packed. I smiled my thanks at Khloe and started eating.
“Did you have a crazy load of homework yesterday?” Khloe asked. She stood in front of our full-length mirror, making last-minute waves in her hair with a curling iron.
“I had a lot, but I think I was exhausted from worrying so much about my first lesson. There was no other reason I couldn’t have finished it.”
Khloe wrapped a piece of long blond hair around the iron. “I hate hearing you beat yourself up about it. I promise—Ms. Utz’s is going to be fine. Just remember what we talked about before classes started.”
She turned off the iron and I swallowed the last of my OJ. Right—Khloe had cautioned me about taking too many courses.
“I will.”
I looked over my schedule, reminding myself about today’s glee club auditions. After that, I had riding and probably another full night of homework. I wasn’t surprised—I’d known it would take me a while to adjust to Canterwood’s pace.
Khloe just didn’t know me well enough yet.
She and Lexa had been concerned about my courses, but I knew I could do it. I’d signed up for all my classes to impress the teachers and prove to everyone that Canter-wood had made the right decision by admitting me.
Okay, I’d messed up last night. But it would never happen again. Khloe and Lexa would see that I was more than capable of handling my schedule.
We left Hawthorne and hurried to get to math on time. Lexa, already seated, smiled when she saw us.
Khloe and I took the seats she’d saved for us and we’d just sat down when Ms. Utz walked in, closing the door behind her.
After attendance, Ms. Utz moved to the front of the room.
“Please pass your homework forward and we’ll begin today’s lesson,” she said. I handed off my paper and kept my eyes down for the rest of the period.
“Remember to finish reading the chapter and complete tonight’s thirty homework problems,” Ms. Utz said. “See you tomorrow.”
The bell rang and I realized I hadn’t taken a single note. I’d spent the entire class thinking about what to say to Ms. Utz about my homework. Luckily, I hadn’t been called to the board to solve any problems during class.
Lexa and Khloe stood, waiting for me.
“You guys go,” I said. “I have to talk to Ms. Utz. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“BBM me,” Khloe mouthed. She gave me an it’s going to be fine look and left with Lexa.
I took my time gathering my stuff as the room emptied. Once the last student had left, I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked up to Ms. Utz’s desk.
“Hi, Ms. Utz,” I said. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Hi, Lauren. Of course,” she said. “What’s on your mind?”
I opened my mouth, pausing. It was ha
rd to get out the words. “I turned in my homework, but it’s not finished. I’m sorry. Is there any chance for extra credit or some sort of make-up work that I can do to keep up my grade?”
Ms. Utz frowned. “Lauren, I appreciate you coming to me directly. However, there are no extensions or makeup work given in this class to make up for missed or late homework.”
I felt sick.
This had never happened to me. Ever. At Yates, I’d looked at the students who turned in unfinished or zero work without sympathy. Now here I was.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I stayed up—”
“Excuses don’t help your grade,” Ms. Utz said. “Instead, turn in your homework on time. I recognize it’s your first year at Canterwood, but you’ve had all summer to prepare.”
“You’re right,” I said. “There are no excuses. I won’t miss another assignment.”
“Good,” Ms. Utz said. “The schedule will become much more intense as the semester wears on, so please make sure you’re on top of it.”
“Of course,” I said. “Thank you for talking to me.”
Ms. Utz nodded and I left the classroom, rushing to history. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying.
Before I walked into Mr. Spellman’s class, I took a breath. You’re not feeling sorry for yourself all day. You missed one assignment and it’ll never happen again.
I walked into the classroom with my head high. Whatever assignments I walked away with at the end of the day would be completed, done well, and on time.
Like the two days before it, Wednesday’s classes rushed by.
I skipped lunch, downing two cups of green tea instead, and spent the period finishing my science homework. I didn’t even have time to talk to Khloe about glee.
I dropped my heavy book bag in our room, grabbed riding clothes to change into at the stable, and swung by the common room. I made a quick thermos of iced tea, grabbed a snack bar, and headed out.
“Lauren?” called Christina, my dorm monitor, poking her head out of her office.
I knew they’d put her office right by the front door on purpose!
My stomach tightened. “Yes?” I stopped and took a too-big gulp of tea.
“Everything okay?” she asked. “I saw you run in and you’ve moving around marathon-style a lot lately.”
“Never better,” I lied. “I got out of class a little late and am heading to an audition for glee club now. I hate being late.”
“Okay,” Christina said. She stared for a second, looking as if she was trying to decide whether or not to believe me. “But promise you’ll let me know if you need anything, though.”
“Promise!” I gave her a huge smile and made sure I walked at a normal pace out the door. Once I got to the sidewalk, I sprinted toward the media center. It was one of the few buildings I hadn’t been inside of yet, but it sounded amazing from the descriptions online.
I followed signs to the media center, dodging clusters of students who’d stopped to talk and some who walked so slow, it looked as if they weren’t moving at all. If they tried to walk like that in Brooklyn, they’d be in serious trouble!
I walked the final steps up the sidewalk and climbed a few stairs to the auditorium door. A blast of cold air hit me when I opened the door and, once inside, I stopped.
Wow.
I’d heard the media center was cool, but I’d had no idea it would look like this! Directly in front of me was a section of couches and plasma TVs. There were built-in bookcases of hundreds—maybe thousands—of DVDs. Vending machines were in each corner of the room. A hallway went off to the left and students carrying DVDs, popcorn, and other movie-snacks walked down the hall.
I checked my watch—there were a couple of minutes to explore. I followed the students down the hallway and passed room after room set up for private TV viewing or gaming. Each room had a Blu-ray player and several gaming consoles from the Wii to the Xbox. Each of the rooms had a different setup with various paint colors, couches, and recliners in different spots.
I walked back down the hallway to the main entrance. Ahead of me were doors . . . to a movie theater!Oh, mon Dieu! I had to show Becca right this instant. I looked around to make sure no one was watching (I didn’t want to look like a dork!) and snapped a photo of the room with my BlackBerry.
I typed a quick message and sent it with the photo. Becs! CC’s media center is insane! Look @ the concession stand!!
Becca is typing a message . While I waited for her reply, I looked at the students lined up for movie snacks. There were showtimes on a digital board near the entrance. A new action flick with Jared Tyler Smith, a très cute actor, started in ten minutes. Behind the concessions counter, students filled soda cups and popcorn buckets and handed out candy.
I’m so bringing Khloe here this weekend! I thought. Then I frowned. It depended on how much homework I got done.
My phone buzzed.
Becca: !!! I am so jealous. I hate u! ;) JK. It looks amazing! U there 4 glee?
Lauren: Yep. Abt 2 go in now. Just wanted u 2 c.
Becca: I it & you’re going 2 do awesome! BBM me.
Lauren: I will. I put away my phone, happy that I’d talked to my sister before my audition. Today hadn’t been the best day, and sharing something with Becca made me feel good.
I paused in front of a giant wooden door with a sign taped to it.
GLEE CLUB AUDITIONS. PLEASE ENTER QUIETLY.
I eased open the heavy door and blinked to adjust to the different lighting. Beside me, a girl sitting at a banquet table waved me over. She was tiny and sweet-looking, with dimples and blond spiral curls, which were pushed back with a skinny gold plastic headband with tiny teeth that combed the hair away from her heart-shaped face.
“Hi, I’m Melissa Peeples,” she said. “Are you trying out for glee club?”
“Yeah. Hi—I’m Lauren,” I said, returning her infectious smile.
“Welcome, Lauren! I’m the glee club cocaptain! We’re always excited to see new people audition. Just fill out this info sheet and pass it back to me when you’re done.”
“Thanks.”
I took the paper and pen that Melissa gave me and filled out the form.
Name: Lauren Towers
Grade: 7
Previous experience: 1 year in glee club at Yates Preparatory, frequent shower singer
Song choice: “Seasons of Love” from Rent
I handed the paper back to Melissa and she scanned it. “Thanks! And no way !Rent is only like the best musical ever! Insanely good audition piece.”
“Thanks!” I said. I wondered if Melissa was also captain of the cheer squad. She might have been the nicest, most bubbly person I’d ever met. “It’s my favorite song, too.”
“You came at the perfect time. If you want to head downstage, I’ll give your info to Mr. Harrison, our glee club advisor. You can audition now!”
Melissa disappeared, and I stood for a minute, rolling my shoulders back, tilting my head up high, and reminding myself to breathe before walking down the aisle.
The auditorium and spotlit stage felt much bigger than when I’d been here for Headmistress Drake’s first-day assembly. I’d wanted more time to prep, but maybe this would help me beat stage fright.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out, glad it had done that now and not while I was onstage! I set it to silent and read the new BBM.
Khloe: BREAK A LEG!!
I smiled at my roomie’s thoughtfulness and freakishly good timing. I put my phone in the back pocket of my skinny jeans and climbed the small set of stairs to the stage.
An X was marked with black tape on the floor. I walked to my mark. Behind me, a pianist sat at a grand piano. I walked over to tell him the song I’d chosen, and he smiled at me. “I know it well,” he assured me. He smiled again, and then I walked back to my spot.
The lights changed, dimming around me so I wasn’t blinded, but I still had to hold my hand over my forehead like a visor to see M
r. Harrison. He was young, like Ms. Snow, with thinning light brown hair.
“Hello, Lauren,” he called. “My name is Mr. Harrison. I am the faculty advisor for Canterwood’s glee club, Vocal Harmony.”
“Hello,” I replied.
“And you will be performing ‘Seasons of Love’?”
“Correct.” I smiled.
“Wonderful,” he said with a warm smile. “Please begin when you’re ready.”
I nodded. My heart rate sped up and I felt an adrenaline rush. But I kept my breathing in control and waited for my cue. While I sang the lyrics to a song about endless, timeless love, I thought about my family—Becca, especially—and Whisper. At the song’s end, I blinked away tears and smiled at Mr. Harrison. “Thank you,” I said.
“Lauren,” he said, “the pleasure was mine. That was an excellent sound choice for your voice. The meaning of the song seemed to resonate with you. You have a lovely voice.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Welcome to Vocal Harmony!” Mr. Harrison said, grinning. “Congratulations!”
“YES!” came a shout from the balcony. Mr. Harrison turned around to look.
I put my hand over my forehead and squinted to see. Had there been other Vocal Harmony people listening in?
“You rock, LT!” There was a flash of long blond hair, and then she was gone.
Khloe.
“Friend of yours?” Mr. Harrison asked, clearly amused.
“Um, perhaps an ex- friend,” I joked. I couldn’t decide whether to kill her or hug her.
“I’ll see you next week on Wednesday for rehearsal,” he said. “And your cheering squad”—he raised his voice— “should be very proud of her talented ex-friend.”
I laughed, thanked him again, and rushed offstage.
Khloe and I reached the center of the lobby at the same time. She was already dressed for riding in navy breeches, boots, and a T-shirt.
“Yaaay!” Khloe squealed. “Lauren! I’m so proud of my ‘ex-friend.’ ” She laughed.
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