Rival Revenge (2 page)

Heather made an
Are you kidding me?
face. I silently agreed—my argument was weak.

Heather reached out and rubbed Charm's blaze. “I'm practicing because I
want
to. You're practicing because you're trying to ignore what happened on Friday.”

“Heather, I have nothing to do
but
ride. Who cares why I'm doing it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, puh-lease, Silver. Maybe you'd have more options if you stopped spinning the I-kissed-my-best-friend's-boyfriend lie. Why aren't you telling Callie the truth?”

“It
is
the truth,” I lied. “I kissed Jacob. I cheated on Eric. Callie was crazy about Jacob and now she hates me. It is what it is.”

Heather stared at me for a long second. Like Paige, she'd known I'd been lying that night.

“Don't make the mistake that I care, because I don't, but you need to tell the truth. Paige and I know you're lying. Tell Callie what really happened—whatever it is—because it's going to come out eventually.”

But it couldn't. If Callie found out that Jacob had kissed me and had been trying to get me back since before summer vacation, she'd be devastated. I'd rather Callie lost our on-again-off-again friendship than her very first boyfriend who, when all was said and done, was a really amazing guy. Just a little … confused.

Charm shifted beneath me and I ran my hand down his neck. “Callie's happy. She may hate me, but she's got Jacob.”

“Then at least tell the truth,” Heather said. “The last thing I need to see is your mopey face every day.”

“I'm
not
moping. Look, I just …” I shrugged, looking down at Charm instead of at Heather. “I want to be by myself for a while.”

Heather raised her hands in an
I give up
gesture. “Fine. Be alone. Be miserable because you have no friends. But
don't
let it affect the team. I'm serious, Silver.” She started to walk away, then turned back. Her gaze softened and her eyes weren't so piercing anymore. “Just don't make the mistake I did last year. Riding can't be everything.”

She walked out of the arena. I took a breath and looked out the door after her. I could leave right now and go get ready for class. Charm was probably tired after three days of nonstop practicing.

But instead, I turned him toward the arena's center and urged him into a trot. We had a few dressage moves to work on. There were plenty of other things to practice and I wouldn't be going back to my room until the last possible minute.

Heather had been wrong about one thing—riding
was
everything now. It had to be.

JUST CALL ME MARY

AN HOUR LATER, I OPENED THE DOOR TO MY
dorm room in Winchester Hall and started straight for the bathroom to the shower.

I didn't want Paige to ask too many questions about how long I'd been practicing. She knew I'd been out of the room a lot and hadn't questioned me too much about it. She'd known I'd had the most horrible Friday night of my life and that Charm was like a security blanket for me.

“Are we going to the assembly together?” Paige asked. She was still in her pink-and-white-striped pajamas. Her red hair was wavy after she'd let it dry in loose braids last night. She was looking over the outfit she'd chosen—a black skirt, blue ballet flats, and an ivory scoop-neck shirt with ruffles.

The assembly—ugh. I'd forgotten about that. I nodded and faked a smile. “Sure.”

Inside the bathroom, I blew out a breath. I'd forgotten that classes for seventh and eighth graders would be delayed this morning so we could attend an announcement from Headmistress Drake about Homecoming. Apparently, Homecoming was a big Canterwood tradition and even though it started next week, it was the
last
thing I was interested in. I'd been so overwhelmed as the new girl last year and being a part of an elite, scary-competitive riding team, I'd somehow missed all of the festivities.

I showered, gathered my books, and headed to the auditorium with Paige. My stomach flip-flopped at the thought of seeing Callie, Jacob, or Eric. Callie would definitely ignore me and Jacob knew better than to even look at me. He'd promised to never tell Callie that he'd confessed his feelings for me or that
he'd
been the one who'd tried to kiss
me
. And Eric definitely wouldn't even look at me. Confrontation wasn't his style. The way he'd walked away on Friday night—he'd been so silent and furious, I just knew it was the end.

I knew Eric well enough to know he was too upset and angry to even think about taking me back. And I was glad. It was better this way. I'd hurt him enough,
and beyond that, I'd messed up everything.

Again.

First with Jacob and then with Eric. I couldn't go through that again—trying to get him back only to have him say no. I needed time to get over Eric and the mess Jacob and I had created.

Paige and I walked into the auditorium, passed the ticket counter, and headed down a wide staircase with red carpet and glossy wooden handrails. If I hadn't been so upset about whom I might see, I would have enjoyed walking down the steps. I usually felt movie-star glam.

We took seats in the middle and I was glad for the darker lighting in the seats and the brighter light on stage. I fidgeted, worried about who would sit near me, but, to my relief, all of the surrounding seats filled with people I didn't know.

Then I saw them. Callie and Jacob walked down the aisle and took seats five rows in front of Paige and me. Callie's raven-colored hair was loose around her shoulders and she was in a black cotton dress with a three-quarters-sleeved pink cardigan I'd never seen before over it. Instinctively, I wanted to tell her that I liked it, but then I remembered I couldn't. She didn't look back. And neither did Jacob.

Eric walked by Paige and me and sat on the opposite side of the auditorium. Just looking at him made the
room spin. I'd crushed him on Friday, letting him think I'd kissed Jacob. I looked down at my lap and my eyes stopped on my bracelet. I couldn't even think about how Eric felt after giving me a heart charm for my bracelet and then walking in on me with my hands on Jacob's chest. I'd been pushing Jacob away after he'd kissed me, but Eric hadn't realized that. He thought I'd always intended to go back to Jacob. I'd let him leave knowing there was no way I'd be able to convince him that it hadn't happened.

I stared straight ahead, focusing my attention on Headmistress Drake at the podium. Low, thick heels, a pencil skirt, and a brocade jacket (“Chanel,” Paige whispered to me) made her look every bit what she was—
headmistress of one of the most rigorous boarding schools on the East Coast.

“Welcome, seventh and eighth graders,” she said. “Thank you for coming. I hope you're all excited to learn details about next week's Homecoming.”

I folded my arms, just wanting this to be over. Beside me, Paige was leaning forward—hanging on the headmistress's every word.

“As you know, Homecoming week is one of Canter-wood's most time-honored traditions,” Headmistress
Drake continued. “We take great pride in our school and Homecoming is our chance to come together and cele-brate Canterwood Crest Academy as the strong, elite institution that it is. We'll kick off Homecoming week with a football game on Monday night,” she added. “I hope all of you will come to show support, not only for our team but also for our school. School spirit is important and cannot be underestimated.”

Uh, nope. A football game was the last thing I'd be doing next week. No way. I had no desire to be surrounded by screaming fans, cheerleaders, or football players.

“While none of these activities are mandatory,” Headmistress Drake said, “it is preferred that if your schedule allows for it, you should attend the pep rally before the game.”

Homecoming = superlame and not at all where I wanted to be.

“We'll have festivities all week that will lead up to Friday when the king, queen, prince and princess of the junior royal court will be announced,” Headmistress Drake continued. “Kings and queens are for the high school students, but there will be a prince and princess each from seventh and eighth grade.”

Paige—and almost every other girl in the room—
practically started to hyperventilate. She reached over and grabbed my arm. I smiled at her—at least she'd enjoy it.

I tried to keep my eyes on Headmistress Drake, but I had to glance at Jacob. He was sitting on Callie's right, but I noticed his body was leaning slightly away from her. Jacob and I had theater class here way later in the day, but I didn't even want to think about that. What if he tried to talk me out of my decision? I knew I wasn't going to change my mind, but I wasn't even ready to hear him try to convince me to take him back.

I don't know how long I sat, zoned out, before I realized I'd missed the majority of Headmistress Drake's speech. I directed my attention back to her.

“Nominations for junior royal court will be made today,” Headmistress Drake said. “Before you leave, you'll each grab two slips of paper. You'll write down one girl's and boy's name from your grade that you'd like to nominate for junior royal court.”

At least that decision was a no-brainer. Paige and Ryan would be perfect. There was no one else I'd even consider nominating.

“Nominations will be posted in each dorm's common room on Sunday,” Headmistress Drake said. “I wish you all the best of luck. Have fun with nominations. After
you've made your choices, please head to class. I hope you're all excited about Homecoming week. I look forward to cheering on Canterwood at the game!”

Rah-rah
, I grumbled in my head.

Paige and I stood, bypassed a row of seats, and got in line for the nominations box. Everyone around us was chattering excitedly and girls were whispering in one another's ears about who they would nominate.

“What if every girl nominates herself?” I said. “Then what happens?”

Paige shook her head. “You could, I mean, no one can stop you, but there's going to be at least one honest girl who's going to vote for someone else. Or at least a few girls who are too scared that if they don't vote for their BFF, she'll do something awful to them.”

I laughed. “So Julia and Alison won't be voting for themselves.”

“Exactly.” Paige smiled. “I'm nominating you 'cause you're my best friend.”

We moved up a step in line.

“Paige,” I said. “Do
not
do that!” I gently shoved her arm. “I don't want to be nominated! Plus, it's a wasted vote. Seriously. You're the only one who would nominate me. Pick one of your friends who actually has a chance at winning.”

Paige stared at me for a second. “Okay. If that's
really
what you want.”

“It is. Trust me. I'm nominating you and Ryan. You guys are perfect—I want you to win!”

Paige grinned. “Can you imagine? Ryan and me? I'd
die
if we won. I didn't care about Homecoming that much last year because I didn't have a possible date, but now …”

Ryan was Paige's crush. They'd gone out on a group date—that seemed so long ago—when Callie, Jacob, Eric, and I could actually be at the same table. Paige and Ryan had been flirty at my party on Friday. I knew it was only a matter of days before he asked her on a solo date. They were perfect together—Ryan was a sweet guy who genuinely liked Paige. And every time they were together, it eased Paige's shyness. Ryan was Paige's first almost-
boyfriend and even though Paige gave the best guy advice, she was nervous around boys.

The line moved forward and Paige and I grabbed our slips of paper. We stopped at the banquet table and leaned over to write down our choices. On one paper I wrote
Ryan Shore
and on the other I wrote
Paige Parker.

Easy.

Paige and I folded our slips of paper and dropped
them into a big white box with a slit cut on the top.
seventh and eighth grade nominations
was written on the side of the box.

“That was sooo cool,” Paige said, grinning. “I love Homecoming already!”

I tried to muster up some fake enthusiasm. “Yeah,” I said. “Awesome.”

I wanted to ask Paige who she'd nominated, but I was too afraid of her answer. I was sure she'd say Callie. And I'd love it if Callie got nominated, but I just didn't want for Paige to even mention her name and start to ask more questions about Friday night. But Paige
did
have other friends. She might have picked Geena, one of her friends from cooking class.

Paige and I were quiet as we walked to Mr. Davidson's advanced English class. It was the coolest class we had—comfy chairs were arranged in a circle and the class was mostly discussion-based. It was a welcome break from the traditional classroom format.