Initiation (13 page)

“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.”

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.

“All your teachers expect full participation in class,” she continued. “Your dorm monitors expect their rules to be followed, and
I
expect students to represent my school with model behavior. If you are not able to fulfill these obligations, or those in the handbook, you
will
be sent home. No exceptions. Zero second chances.”

The last sentence made my stomach flip-flop. I knew all the rules and had never been in trouble at school before, but what if I messed up somehow?

“Yikes,” Jill whispered to me. “She will never
not
scare me.”

I was too scared to say anything back.

Headmistress Drake smiled. “With that said, I have no doubt that you will all put forth your best effort this year. I look forward to seeing those of you who have returned. For new students, I'm extremely proud that you chose Canterwood as your school. I can't wait for
you to get to know Canterwood. And I can't wait for our community at Canterwood to get to know
you
. And now . . . you are all dismissed. Your first-period teachers are waiting!”

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

Headmistress Drake exited the stage, and there was a flurry of activity. Bags of every color (and, I noticed, high-end
labels
) were hoisted over shoulders as students raced for the exit doors. I hurried after Lexa, Khloe, and Jill.

“Guess no one wants to be late to the first class of the year?” I asked.

“Not after that speech!” Jill said, laughing. It had been like a stampede. No joke.

Khloe, Lexa, and I waved good-bye to Jill from the courtyard as she headed to her class and we went to math. The math building wasn't far from the courtyard, but a little anxiety washed over me as we stepped into the air-conditioned building and walked down the tiled hallways to room 107.

A desk and giant whiteboard were in the front of the huge classroom. The rows of individual desks didn't have names on them, so Lexa found three desks together and Khloe slung her beautiful pink Coach purse adorned with oversized iridescent sequin piping over the back of the
one in the middle. Lex sat in front of her, and I happily took the desk next to Lexa.

I glanced around as seats filled.

I wanted to be ready before the teacher came in, so I turned around and reached into my messenger bag. I pulled out my textbook, a new spiral notebook labeled
MATH
and a pen. Something was missing . . .
calculator
.

When I turned around to fish it out of my bag, my arm knocked my pencil to the ground. I leaned over to pick it up at the same time the guy beside me did. He got it first.

“Here you go,” he said, giving me a very sweet (read:
cute
) smile. His shaggy-chic blond hair was side-swept out of his eyes but still lingered past his eyebrows.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the pencil from him. I started to reach for my calculator again.

“Did you just transfer?” Pencil Guy asked. His redheaded friend turned and shot me a smile, too.

“That obvious, huh?” I asked. “So, the pencil dropping and terror-filled eyes gave me away?”

Both boys laughed.

“Gotcha,” I said. “Next time I'll bring a pen to class.”

“I don't think that would help,” the blonde said. He leaned toward me like he was telling me a secret. “It's
a small class, so we know everyone here. I'm Zack, and that's my friend—”

“Garret,” Garret broke in.

“Lauren,” I said. “Nice to meet you guys.” This felt good. Right. Like something I would have done at Yates if I'd met two new guys. I was never supershy—I often had more guy friends than girlfriends no matter what school I was at.

“Khloe.”

I looked away, toward the unfriendly voice. Riley stood, smiling down at Khloe. Her supershiny dark hair was back in a French braid. She'd somehow done her eye-liner in a flawless cat-eye that was superflattering. She'd paired dressy black shorts with charcoal-gray-and-black horizontal-striped tights and a black scoop-neck tee with silver stitching. Poison-red peep-toe ballet flats completed the look. “The look” being . . . well, perfect.

Her liquid brown eyes swept over me. “Lauren. And Lexa. Wow, and
Khloe
. Aren't you three just the cutest fast besties?”

Riley walked past me, her black butter-leather Chanel bag almost sweeping everything off my desk. I inspected the stitching as the bag grazed my belongings.
Be a knockoff, be a knockoff,
I chanted silently—and irrationally. But the stitching was barely visible and
parfait
.

Why did girls like Riley always have the real-deal Chanels? And why did this particular Chanel owner have to sit directly behind
me
?

There was a light tap on my shoulder. I pasted a sickly sweet smile onto my face before turning to look at Riley.

“I'm sorry if I interrupted your conversation,” she said, glancing at the guys. Zack and Garret had started talking to a third boy—the three of them laughing about something.

“No big,” I said honestly. “I had a very small clumsy moment and they gave me an intro.”

I tried smiling at Riley, but I could feel my smile coming off as frowny.

Riley apparently had a smiling problem, too. “It's so great that you have
friends
on the first day, social butterfly. Let me guess—you're sharing stories about tiny town life that everyone thinks is
so
quaint and adorable?”

“Weird!” I said. “It's like you're inside my
brain
.” I plucked my calculator from my bag and put it on my desk.

“Here are those directors you asked for,” Lexa said, folding a piece of paper into my hand.

Huh?
I opened the paper slowly.

Here's my #. BBM urs 2 KK & me so we can talk w/o Riley hearing.
Ohhh. Ha!

I slid my phone onto my lap and BBMed Lexa and Khloe my number.

Khloe: LT! u talked 2 Zack! & Garret!

Lexa: & made Reiler look like the brat she is!

Lauren: Reiler?Ugh. Not a fan. ?? abt Zack and Garret?

Khloe: 2 of the hottest guys in r class! What did u say 2 them? (& Reiler = Rottweiler.)

Lauren: Oh! Nothing 2 get excited abt—trust me. He just intro'd himself & G. LOL re: Reiler.

Simultaneously, Lexa and Khloe wrote:
OMG!

Lauren: Srsly! U guys r so funny.