Little White Lies (2 page)

I smiled as I looked around our room—glad that we'd gotten approval to be roommates again in our familiar seventh-grade dorm room. Despite my worry about running into Jacob, I was beginning to feel better about being here.

Going 2 the stbl 4 mtg. U?
I texted Eric.

I pulled on my paddock boots and glanced at my laptop.
Just one quick check for any school announcements,
I told myself.

Zero new messages.

The mouse hovered over my “save these!!” folder. After a moment's hesitation, I clicked on the message I'd been staring at all summer long.
From: Jacob Schwartz. Subject: Sasha, please read. 6/27. 7:46 p.m.

There was no reason to open that e-mail. None. I should have deleted it the second I'd gotten it this summer. After all, I had a boyfriend. Only horrible girlfriends saved e-mails from other guys—especially other guys currently dating their BFFs. What was wrong with me? But instead of erasing the message, I opened it and read it for the thousandth time.

Sasha,
I had to try again to tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted at the Sweetheart Soirée.
I know you're with Eric and I'm dating Callie, but I can't give up. Not when I still like you so much. You know I don't want to hurt Callie and I'm sure you feel the same about Eric, but you can't ignore the truth—there's something between us. I hope you e-mail or text me back or something. If not, I'll see you at school. Have a great time at YENT camp.

—Jacob

Not that I'd needed to read the e-mail again to know what it said. I'd had it for three months and now every single word had become stuck in my brain. Just like the look on his face when he'd found me in the courtyard minutes before I'd left to go home last year—the first time he'd told me he wanted me back. I'd run from him then, not answering, and hadn't replied to any of his messages all summer.

My phone buzzed and I jumped. With shaky fingers, I grabbed my phone.

BRT! Can't wait 2 c u.

Eric. He was the guy I wanted, not Jacob. Just thinking about seeing Eric after a summer apart made me grin. I couldn't wait to see his creamy coffee-brown skin
and his thick, dark hair that sometimes fell in front of his eyes.

Jacob would have to figure out how to deal.

I shut down the computer and left the dorm, hurrying down the glossy wooden floors of the hallway and stepping around luggage that was stacked outside dorm room doors. Eric was waiting for me. What happened with Jacob—his confession, the e-mail—none of it mattered. Eric and I were happy together. Jacob was too late.

I LEFT WINCHESTER AND WALKED DOWN THE
sidewalk, enjoying the sun and warm late-August air. The campus was much calmer this weekend than it had been this time last year. The newbies had moved in yesterday and returning students were arriving over the weekend. As I looked around, I realized just how much I'd missed Canterwood over the summer. I tried to take in every bit of campus as I walked.

Full oak and maple trees shaded the freshly painted wooden benches that dotted the pristine lawn. Black, old-fashioned streetlamps lined the sidewalks that snaked around the state-of-the-art dorms, gym, media center, pool, tennis courts, and stable. A stone wall covered in ivy encircled most of campus.

I hurried down the sloping hill and walked into the stable, scanning the main aisle for Eric. Bay, chestnut, gray, and roan horses filled every available pair of crossties and glossy tack trunks with brass locks were lined up in front of the stalls. I walked through the center of the stable, passed the hot walker, and grinned.

Eric stood in the aisle, looking beyond adorable in a red T-shirt with a frayed hem and cargo shorts. His light brown skin had darkened over the summer and I thought he maybe even looked taller.

“Eric!” I called.

He turned his head. “Hey!”

I didn't care if Mr. Conner caught me running in the stable and made me muck out stalls till I was twenty—I darted forward and threw myself into Eric's arms. We hugged each other and I squeezed him hard, not wanting to let go. We pulled back. I couldn't stop looking at him. Everything about him was familiar—the way he smelled like spearmint and dryer sheets, his easy, laid-back smile, and the way I fit into his body when we hugged.

“Missed you,” he said, his dark brown eyes locked on mine.

“Me too.”

Eric leaned in to kiss me and, for a second, I hesitated.
You're just nervous,
I told myself.
You haven't kissed him in months!
It's not like someone can forget how to kiss over the summer. I closed my eyes and brushed my lips against his. We smiled at each other.

“I'm glad to see you,” Eric said. “But was starting school a week early part of the evil plan to eventually make school last
all
year?”

I laughed. “Knowing the headmistress, probably. But at least fall break isn't too far off this year.”

Eric squeezed my hand. “True. And that's only a week long. Not like spending all summer apart. Seven days is much better.”

“Agreed.” I blushed and looked into the stall in front of us. Inside was Luna, the school horse Eric usually rode.

“She looks great,” I said. The flea-bitten gray mare bumped Eric's elbow playfully with her muzzle. She had a total crush on him.

Eric rubbed her forehead. “I really missed her this summer. I'm going to groom her, and then go meet Troy for pizza at The Slice.”

“And I better get to my meeting. Text you later?”

I tossed a final smile over my shoulder at Eric. He grinned back and I felt his eyes on me as I walked away. The nerves about being around him would go
away—I knew I just needed time after being separated all summer.

I left Eric and walked to the skybox. When I got there, Heather Fox and Jasmine King were already waiting. Both girls sat at opposite ends of the room with their arms folded. The leader of the Trio and the transfer from Wellington Preparatory had a long history of hating each other. For years, they'd competed against each other with both girls battling for first place in every big show on the toughest circuit. Now that Jasmine was at Canterwood, Heather had stepped up her game—something I hadn't even known was possible.

Heather's blond hair was in a messy French braid and her skin bronzed from a summer in the sun. She looked over at me and half-smiled. For Heather, that counted as superfriendly.

Jasmine's dark hair tumbled in loose waves around her shoulders and she focused her eyes on me. Unlike Heather's, Jas's skin was pale and peachy blush highlighted her cheekbones.

“Your letter get lost in the mail?” Jas asked, smoothing her ruffled black skirt.

I sat next to Heather and looked six seats down to Jasmine. “What letter?”

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “The one from the YENT where they told you that your offer to join the team was revoked after—oh, yeah—they came to their senses and realized what a loser rider you are.”

I sat back in my chair and blew out a breath. As if I'd expected this year with Jas to go any other way, especially after how she'd acted during YENT camp over the summer. She couldn't deal with having me—a “loser” rider—at the ultra-exclusive camp for one of the most prestigious riding teams in the country. Jas hadn't stopped going after me for one second during all six weeks of camp. And I'd been alone.

But that, I reminded myself, was my fault. Callie Harper, my other BFF and former riding teammate, wasn't on the YENT because of me. Jacob had been acting weird for weeks before YENT testing last spring and Callie had obsessed about what was going on with him. Neither of us knew that it had been because Jacob wanted me back. Callie's riding had been off on test day and it had cost her a spot on the YENT. Callie still didn't know the truth—and as long as I had it my way, she never would.

Mr. Conner strode into the room. “Welcome back, girls,” he said. His dark hair had been cropped shorter
over the summer and he wore a hunter green polo shirt with
CCA
stitched in gold thread over his heart.

“Hi,” we all said.

He eyed our seating choices, but didn't comment. “I'm glad to see all of you back at school. I hope you're ready to get started on Monday.”

Heather and I glanced at each other. He'd been tough on us when we'd been riders on his advanced team—when Callie had been on our team—and there was no question that he'd be even tougher on us now.

“Since you're all riding for the Youth Equestrian National Team,” Mr. Conner continued, “your schedule will be different from last year's.” He picked up a leather-bound binder, opened it, and consulted a page. “You will not have morning lessons.”

“Yes!” Heather, Jasmine, and I all whispered at the same time.

Mr. Conner tilted his head, looking at us.

Oops.

But he grinned and we all started laughing. No morning lessons meant I could actually sleep in a little and not rush to shower, change, and get dressed before class every morning.

“Don't get too excited. Your afternoon class will be
longer and more intense,” Mr. Conner said. “To accommodate this schedule, I've hired an assistant coach to teach the beginning riders. Ms. Walker starts on Monday. Please welcome her when you see her around. Also, I will have to submit written progress reports directly to Mr. Nicholson every other week.”

So if I had a bad practice, would that go in my progress report?
Gulp.
Charm and I had to be
on
every day. I never wanted Mr. Nicholson to think he'd made a mistake in choosing me for the advanced team. Especially after my riding hadn't been up to my usual standards at YENT camp.

Mr. Conner flipped to a different page in his binder. “As the head scout of the YENT, Mr. Nicholson expects written reports as well as visual proof that you are all progressing in the program.”

“Will he come from Lexington to watch us ride?” Heather asked.

“No,” Mr. Conner said. “Each month, I'll record a lesson and e-mail him the file. He'll watch it and make notes about each of you. Since this is the first time Canterwood has had the honor of students riding for the YENT, we will all make sure to represent Canterwood Crest Academy's riding team to the best of our abilities.”

Talk about pressure …

Jasmine raised her hand and her silver bangles clattered down her arm. “Mr. Conner?”

He nodded at her. “Yes?”

“When's our first show?” Jas asked.

“The first few weeks will be about settling into the new schedule and practicing,” Mr. Conner said. “We will not begin the fall show schedule until later in the semester—not until every rider is prepared and at her best.”

A look crossed Jasmine's face as if she wanted to argue, but instead she slumped into her seat, not saying another word. But I was relieved. I needed any extra practice I could get—Charm and I were going to prove ourselves to Mr. Conner and Mr. Nicholson.

“When we do kick off the showing season,” Mr. Conner said, “we'll start with a schooling show as a warm-up for future events.”

Jasmine huffed. “A
schooling
show?”

Mr. Conner's eyes narrowed on Jasmine and her fair cheeks turned the color of my shirt. “Jasmine, the level of competition for the YENT surpasses that of the advanced team by leaps and bounds. We will
not
be showing before Mr. Nicholson and I decide the team is ready.”

So, ha!
I wanted to add.

“Rest up over the weekend—you're going to need to be ready to work on Monday afternoon,” Mr. Conner said. “I suggest you start mapping out your schedules as soon as you can to allow enough time for classes, homework, stable chores, and riding lessons. Come to me if you have questions, all right?”

Each of us nodded as he gathered his papers and binder and left the skybox. Heather and I stood and, together, started for the door.

“No morning lessons is only the best news ever,” Heather said.

“Totally,” I said. “We can actually get up at a normal hour.”

Jasmine followed us out. “Please. This is ridic.
One
lesson a day and a
schooling
show? We're on the YENT now—not the beginner team. A schooling show will be embarrassing.”

Heather turned on the stairway. Even though she was two steps lower than Jasmine, she somehow seemed taller. “You talk a big game. Let's see if you're so uberconfident on Monday after we ride.”

Jasmine glared at us, and Heather and I headed down the rest of the steps, into the aisle, and away from Jas.

“Later, Silver,” Heather said. She was gone before I
could reply, probably off to find Julia and Alison—her BFFs and the other two-thirds of the Trio. But unlike Heather and me, Julia and Alison weren't allowed to ride. They'd been banned from riding since they'd been caught last spring cheating on a history exam. Both girls had denied the cheating and had theories that Jasmine was somehow involved. But without proof, they were grounded, literally, until next January.

I walked to Charm's stall and peered inside. “Hi, boy!” I said.

Charm turned his chestnut head toward me, still munching on stalks of hay. I let myself into the stall and stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. Charm, a Thoroughbred and Belgian mix, was my soon-to-be-nine-year-old gelding. We'd been inseparable since my parents had bought him for me almost four years ago. I ran my finger down his blaze and kissed his cheek.

“Two days is way too long to be apart, huh?” I asked him.

Charm bobbed his head and I leaned into him, glad to have a couple of minutes to think before leaving the stable. I hadn't seen Callie yet, but she'd texted me this morning to say she couldn't wait to see me. I'd missed her a lot over the summer, but more than she knew at YENT camp.