Initiation (25 page)

I caught the last few words of whatever he'd said.

Mike and Doug walked into the arena, carrying poles. Within minutes, they'd assembled three simple verticals in a straight line that increased in height.

“Drew, you'll go first,” Mr. Conner said. “Followed by Lexa, Clare, Riley, Cole, and Lauren.”

Being last was good and bad. It was good because I had
a chance to watch everyone else and bad because I had to wait which gave me more time to get nervous.

Everyone but Drew moved along the wall. He cantered Polo in a large circle then straightened him, pointing the horse at the first vertical. Polo rose into the air at the right second. His form, and Drew's, was near perfect. Drew eased Polo a notch and the two flew over the second vertical. They were magnetic—I couldn't take my eyes off them. Polo and Drew made a great team. Drew had gentle hands and he rode
with
Polo, not against him. They completed the last jump and Drew patted Polo's neck as he joined us.

“Nice work, Drew,” Mr. Conner said.

I chewed the inside of my cheek as the rest of my team went. No one knocked a rail or even came close to a fault. I visualized all of the jumps Whisper and I had taken—and cleared—this summer. We could do this. Three simple verticals.

“Lauren, you're up,” Mr. Conner said.

I eased Whisper forward the second he said my name. If I waited, I'd think too much. I didn't circle Whisper as some of my teammates had with their horses—I pointed her at the first vertical. All of the jumps were the same— white poles and black jump stands.

Whisper's canter was even as we approached the first vertical. I moved into the two-point position and gave Whisper rein. The gray mare stretched her neck, tucking her forelegs under her, and jumped into the air. We landed on the other side and I smiled.

I had to let Whisper be Whisper. I had to trust her. Sometimes, she responded to Mr. Conner's verbal cues. A few times, she'd balked at jumps over the summer, causing me more than a bruised ego. We didn't know each other well enough for me to let her wander like Khloe had with Ever. But Whisper trusted me. I owed her the same. It didn't mean I wasn't going to be nervous about jumping, but it
did
mean that I had to give Whisper room to try.

We cleared the second vertical and I gave her an extra inch of rein for the last jump. Whisper's body lifted into the air and she pushed off the ground with her hind legs, thrusting into the air. She landed and cantered away from the course. I rubbed her neck and she tossed her head, shaking her gray mane. Whisper knew she'd done well. There were lots of apple slices in her future.

I slowed her to a trot then a walk.

Mr. Conner nodded at me, giving me a quick smile. “Good ride, Lauren.”

I couldn't stop a giant grin from spreading across my face.

“Thank you all, and I'll see you on Monday,” Mr. Conner said.

I hopped off Whisper's back. “You were amazing, girl! I'm so proud of you. I couldn't have made it without you.”

I looked over at Lexa as she dismounted. I wanted to share my excitement with her, but I couldn't. There wasn't anyone here that I could tell. Lexa and Khloe would wonder why I was so excited to have cleared three simple verticals.

I wanted to BBM Khloe before her lesson, so I led Whisper back to her stall to grab my phone.

Whisper didn't respond 2 any voice commands from Mr. C! Thank u so much!

Khloe is writing a message
appeared.

I waited, glad I'd caught her before her class.

YAY! That's awesome, L! So happy 4 u!
J
Going 2 my lesson, but c u in r room.

I put my phone back on my tack trunk and turned to Whisper.

“Okay, Princess Whisper, you're getting the royal treatment,” I said. “Let's go to the wash stall.”

Whisper
loved
water. She loved being pampered and often fell asleep when I bathed her.

I untacked her, leaving her gear on her stall door, and took her sky blue wash bucket, Mane ‘n Tail shampoo and conditioner, a wide-toothed comb, and a sponge.

I led Whisper down the aisle, skipping the indoor wash stall and heading outside. The September sun wasn't as hot today. It peeked out from behind giant puffy clouds. The wash stall, on the stable's side, was free. The open space was as big as two box stalls and black rubber mats covered the concrete slab. A green hose was in a neat loop near the spigot.

I led Whisper inside and she turned around fast, standing ready for crossties. “Someone really wants a bath,” I said, laughing.

I clipped the ties to her nylon halter and took off the lead rope. I hugged Whisper's neck and stared ahead of us. I squinted, looking at the cross-country field toward the woods at the back of the campus.

Mr. Conner stood near five mounted equestrians. A horse and rider I recognized soared over a tall brush jump and cantered to a double combination. The gorgeous bay took long strides and the rider's blond hair blew back. The separation between horse and rider was invisible.

Khloe and Ever.

Khloe slowed Ever, easing her just before they reached
the first half of the combination. The plastic poles, meant to look like logs, were probably about three and a half feet off the ground. I was too far away to be sure, but I'd had enough practice at eyeballing heights of obstacles.

Ever arched gracefully over the first jump, took one stride and lifted into the air for the second part of the combo. I didn't need to be close to see Khloe's excellent form. They circled and rode back to the waiting riders. I couldn't hear what Mr. Conner said to her, but it had to be good.

I smiled, squirting shampoo into the bucket and turning on the hose.

“We'll get there one day, girl,” I told Whisper. “For now, we've got friends to cheer on.”

I filled the bucket with warm water and suds threatened to overflow. I turned the hose to a gentle pressure and pointed it at Whisper's hooves. I worked my way up her legs, shoulder, neck, and by the time I reached her withers with the hose, her eyes closed.

The water ran over her hindquarters and down her tail, rinsing away a week of lessons, dust, and sweat.

Once her soaked coat darkened, I turned off the hose and started soaping her left foreleg from hoof, to knee, to forearm. Whisper's eyes remained shut as bubbles covered
her body and I scrubbed her coat in a circular motion. I paid extra attention to her girth, withers, and back— places where she'd gathered the most sweat.

After she was clean, I rinsed her coat and massaged conditioner into it. Whisper went in and out of sleep throughout the bath and her calm demeanor relaxed me. Moments like these made me fall in love with her even more.

“ ‘PLEASE, GASTON. I CAN'T. I HAVE TO GET
home and help my father,'” Khloe said. “Ugh! I'm not using that. I'm going back to my first choice. That was awful, wasn't it?”

“No, it wasn't,” I said. “Khlo, you
know
every word of your monologues—whatever one you choose. You
are
Belle.”

Khloe looked up at the media center entrance and took a huge breath. We'd been standing outside for several minutes while Khloe rehearsed parts of her monologue. She looked great in a blue tissue T-shirt that matched the color of Belle's dress, dark skinny jeans, and black ballet flats. She'd flatironed her hair and had applied a little more makeup than usual.

“You're such a good friend,” Khloe said. “Okay. I'm going with my first choice. I'm ready.”

We walked inside the media center and I stopped at the theater entrance. Khloe peeked inside to see if anyone was watching the door. I wanted to see her audition and be there for support like she'd done for me and glee club.

Khloe reached over and tugged my hand. “C'mon! Hurry!” I tiptoed after her through the door.

We passed an older girl with gorgeous cat-eye makeup who winked at us and didn't say a word.

“Jana assists Mr. Barber,” Khloe whispered. “I asked her if I could sneak you in and she said just this once.”

The stage was empty—the spotlight waiting for its next audition.

Khloe took me to a back row of seats and pointed to one at the end. “Sit there and stay still. Duck if you see anyone coming.”

“Okay,” I said. “I won't get caught. Promise. When do you go on?”

“Jana said to go wait backstage. There's one person ahead of me then I'm up.”

I hugged Khloe. “Break a leg!”

“Thanks for being here,” Khloe said. “It means a lot.” With a smile, she disappeared and headed backstage.

I sat in the dark, glad no one could see my face. Khloe was so grateful that I was here for her, but I felt like a fraud. She didn't know Lauren Towers. She only knew the Lauren that I'd introduced her to. I'd kept her at arm's length—letting her in, but not too much. There hadn't been one conversation where I hadn't been waiting for it. With Khloe's status in dressage at Canterwood, I was almost positive she'd recognize my name. So far, she'd gotten to know
me
, but not all of me.

That's it,
I decided.
I'm telling her after the sleepover.

“May I have the next person?” Mr. Barber asked.

My attention went to the stage as a girl emerged from the wings and stepped into the spotlight.

Riley. She'd curled her hair into soft waves, had pink glossy lips, and mascara that made her eyes pop even from my faraway seat. Like Khloe, she'd dressed in Belle's blue, only she wore a casual-slash-preppy blue dress with capped sleeves. She'd paired the dress with wedges.

“Hello,” she said. Her voice, clear and strong but not too loud, reached me in the back row. She addressed a teacher sitting at a banquet table with a desk light on, who I'd assumed was Mr. Barber.

“My name is Riley Edwards. I'm auditioning for the role of Belle.”

“Do you have a monologue prepared?” Mr. Barber asked.

“Yes, sir,” Riley said. “I have one that's a minute long and another that's two. I'll perform whichever you like.”

I hated to admit it, even to myself, but Riley looked and sounded great onstage. She hadn't even delivered her monologue yet.

“One minute is perfect,” Mr. Barber said. “Thank you for having two options. I appreciate it.”

Riley smiled, bowing her head. It was the smile she saved for adults—one that made her seem angelic.

Riley kept her head down, then looked up. She walked to the edge of the stage.

“‘Little town, it's a quiet village,'” she sang. She started back across the stage and even without props or scenery, I visualized her walking through a town.

Uh-oh.
Riley was fantastic. Her voice, presence, and look mesmerized me. If she did this without a costume, other actors, props or scenery, I couldn't even imagine . . .

“ ‘Every day like the one before. Little town, full of . . .' ”

Riley sang for minute, but it felt like seconds. I wanted to be bored, but I couldn't look away. Her beautiful singing voice hit every note and she finished with a smile.

“Thank you, Riley,” Mr. Barber said. “You will be informed of my decision via e-mail tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir,” Riley said. She exited the stage, disappearing behind the curtain.

Mr. Barber kept his head bent over his desk for a few minutes, probably taking notes on her performance.

Jana walked over to him, showing him the sign-in sheet.

“Next!” Mr. Barber called.

Khloe walked out from behind the blue velvet curtains and stopped in the spotlight.

“I'm Khloe Kinsella. I've prepared a monologue for the role of Belle.”

Khloe's voice had a slight wobble to it. I gripped the armrests.
Shake it off,
I thought, trying to send a message via ESP to Khloe. I hoped Riley hadn't said something to rattle her. But I had to give Khloe more credit. She was an actress. It was a cutthroat business and she'd probably encountered a dozen Rileys at auditions.

Like Riley, Khloe had chosen to sing for her audition. In this monologue, Belle was supposed to be singing to a chicken and to her horse.

Khloe reached into her pocket, pulled out an imaginary handful of something and began scattering it like she was feeding chickens. She crouched down, holding out a hand.

“‘Is he gone? Can you imagine, he asked me to marry him! Me, the wife . . .'”

All of the nerves had disappeared from Khloe's voice. Just like with Riley, I could see the setting in my head as she delivered her lines. Khloe sang with a stunning, sweet voice that gave me chills. I'd see my roommate on Broadway one day—I knew it.

Khloe wrapped up her audition and looked at Mr. Barber. I had to hold myself back from cheering—she'd
nailed
it! Khloe had been perfect. But so had Riley.