Chosen (14 page)

But it was obvious that all three of us were ready to clear our heads and leave any more dramatic conversations for another time.

On our walk back to the stable, Ana, Brielle, and I talked and laughed about boys and school stuff until our stomachs hurt from laughter and we couldn't stop smiling if we tried.

But best of all: Canterwood hadn't come up again. Not even once.

“SHHH!”

I turned down one of Yates's many long corridors. I had minutes until first period started and I was headed to my locker.

Two girls in my grade who I barely knew had their heads together. Then, when they saw me, they only continued to stare, not talking at all.

Ohhh-kaaay. Whatever that was.

I looked away and started back toward my locker.

“That's her,” someone else whispered.

I looked over and saw Sean, a guy in my history class. He was standing with one of his friends.

“Hey, what's up?” I asked, walking over to them, smiling.

Sean shrugged, pulling books out of his locker. His friend wouldn't even make eye contact with me.

“Sean? C'mon,” I urged. “We're friends. Did I do something?”

Sean paused, then looked at me, “Do something? It's more like what didn't Yates do for you?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Sean closed his locker. “Hey, you started this, not me.”

He and his friend walked away without glancing my way again. I'd gotten used to Sean staring at me during history. According to Brielle, he'd had a crush on me since I'd arrived at Yates. While she thought the staring was “creepy,” I'd always found him to be sweet and shy and harmless. I'd always gone out of my way to be friendly toward him. But after the way he'd just spoken to me, I thought maybe it was time to rethink the whole “friendly” thing.

This day was going from strange to just plain bizarre.

I walked to my locker, grabbed my books, and looked for Ana and Brielle. We
always
met at my locker before first period. I took out my phone, careful to keep it half-hid in my locker. Cell phones were banned at Yates and I didn't want mine to get swiped by a teacher.

Lauren:

Where r u guys?

Brielle:

Sry! We r so late. C u in class!

Lauren:

Okay
.

I locked my phone. Things were so weird this morning—I really wished my besties were around for support. I
needed
them here.

I straightened my shoulders, closed my locker, and walked down the hallway. I smiled at people I knew, waiting for a smile back. But, at best, what I got in return could only be considered half smiles.

What was going on?

I got to first period and took my usual seat. I busied myself by straightening my papers and pens until I saw Brielle and Ana.

They slid into seats next to me. No one ever sat in those three seats but us.

“I'm so glad to see you guys!” I said, motioning for them to lean closer. “Everyone's being
so
weird today! I've said hi to practically everyone in school, but it's like I have the plague—people are actually going out of their way not to
look
at me, let alone speak to me.”

Brielle swallowed noisily and Ana tapped her pen against her desk.

“Bri? Ana? C'mon, what's going on?” I stared at them. “You guys know and you're keeping it from me on purpose.”

Ana glanced at Brielle before she looked at me. “Laur, Yates is a small school.”

“Yeah?” I prodded.

Brielle broke in. “Well, small schools tend to have a lot of pride.”

“Makes sense,” I said, confused. “But what does this have to do with me?”

Bri went on. “Well, you're one of the most popular girls in our entire grade.”

“That's not easy to do when you come in as a transfer,” Ana said.

“But you did it,” Brielle said, smiling. “You won over everyone at school.” She paused. “But then . . . I guess people started finding out that you applied to Canterwood.”

“I don't get it,” I said, looking around the room at all the cold faces surrounding me. “Why do they care? I'm not even going to get in. But even if I did, this news became a scandal?
Why
?”

“I guess they care because Canterwood is Yates's biggest rival school,” Ana said. “I know we don't have an equestrian team, but we do compete with them in lots
of other activities like swimming, football, Scholastic Bowl . . . You applied to join the enemy school.”

I felt like this had to be a dream. This was just so
juvenile
—so fifth grade! Yates was a good school—a prep school! You had to be
smart
to get into Yates. And this! “Not that I'm getting in, but it's not even like I'm interested in doing any of those things. I'm a rider, period. Yates doesn't have an equestrian team, so even if I got in, why would anyone care if I rode for Canterwood's equestrian team? How on earth did this become such a big deal?”

“Hey, it's not even worth getting upset about,” Ana said, her tone soothing. “Everyone can think what they want. Who cares? We've got your back.”

I smiled as best I could. “Thanks. I know you guys are on my side. It was just such a shock to come in this morning and to have everyone randomly treat me like an outcast that way. It was so . . . strange.”

“Don't even react to it,” Brielle said. “Stay the same fabulous Lauren you've always been. People will sniff out a bigger scandal by lunch—trust me. They'll forget all about your Canterwood application and will spend their time freezing out the next poor victim of their collective boredom.”

I smiled. Brielle could always calm me down, no matter
what was going on. I wished I had her impenetrability and arid coolness.

Our history teacher, Mr. Wren, walked into the room. The three of us pulled apart, turning to the whiteboard.

I shifted in my seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

I was, well, used to being popular. I didn't know how to handle everyone turning on me so suddenly. Listening to Brielle and Ana was, I know, the best thing I could possibly do. Besides, they were my besties, and besties looked out for one another. Whatever I'd done to deserve such amazing friends, I was grateful.

“Morning, class,” Mr. Wren boomed. “I expect you've all done the homework, so I'm going to pair you each up with a partner. One at a time, you'll come up to the board, and you and your partner will ask the class a question from the homework assignment.”

I'd always liked getting up in front of the class and doing activities. I was good at it, and it made for a good grade—something that meant a lot to me.

Mr. Wren split our small class up into pairs, and I smiled when he called my name and Irina's. She was quiet and friendly, already Ivy League–college bound since she was on Yates's fast track and would probably graduate from high school a year early.

“Irina and Lauren,” Mr. Wren called once he was done assigning partners. “First up.”

We got up, both of us holding our homework papers. Like mine, I could see Irina's was filled—her tiny handwriting running over the margins.

We got up to the board and each uncapped dry-erase markers. “What question do you want to pose to the class?” I asked Irina.

She shrugged. “Just ask the first one and let's get this over with.” Her long, almost white-blond hair fell in front of her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, genuinely confused.

“Fine,” Irina said. “But why you're wasting your time coming to class and pretending to care about any of this, I don't get
at all
. But it's your life, so
what
-ever.”

I shook my head. “Um, I care because I
go
here. And one day I'd like to graduate, preferably within the top five percent of my class, Irina. Please tell me you aren't mad that I applied to Canterwood, too?”

Irina's blue eyes were bored. “Not mad; over it. So, if you think you're too good for this place, which you clearly do if you're looking at Canterwood Crest Academy now, stop wasting time at Yates and go already.”

Tears burned my eyes.
Stop
, I reprimanded myself.
No tears
.

“Girls, are you ready?” Mr. Wren asked.

“Yes, sir,” Irina said, turning away from me. She wrote out a question for the class on the whiteboard. “We want to discuss the first question from the homework assignment,” she said, suddenly upbeat.

I stood there, my face paling by the second. I knew I'd get a low participation grade, but I didn't care—I let Irina take over.

Once we were finally done, I went back to my seat. Brielle reached over to touch my arm, and I offered her the fakest
I'm totally fine!
smile I could muster.

I loved Bri for telling me to be my “fabulous” self until this blew over. Two problems: First, I had a feeling this ban on speaking to me wouldn't go away anytime soon. Second, I was feeling anything but fabulous lately.

The rest of my classes were the same.

Ana and Brielle were the only ones to talk to me nicely all day. I didn't have any classes with Taylor, but I didn't even feel like texting him to explain. Sure, he'd be mad on my behalf, but there wasn't anything he could do.

At lunch, Brielle, Ana, and I usually had to politely turn down offers to sit at half a dozen different tables. It was time we set aside for the three of us to catch up, but we always made sure not to do it in a cliquey way.

In the lunch line, I kept my eyes on the food behind the glass, hoping that my friends would be right—that something new and distracting would have turned up by now.

I ordered Greek yogurt, a veggie burger, and Pellegrino water. Then I left the safety of the lunch line and stepped into the airy cafeteria, scanning for my usual table. Brielle and Ana weren't there. For a moment, I panicked. Instinct told me to get out now. But I refused to let panic run my life. I straightened my posture and, spotting my table, decided I'd snag it for the three of us.

I walked past a bunch of tables. I couldn't decide whether to feel crushed or relieved that no one even looked up at me as I moved across the room.

“Little Miss Lauren Towers,” said Hannah, a social climber who'd be friends with anyone if it got her a seat at the cool table.

At my table.

I stopped by Hannah's table. Flanked by her posse, she brushed back her dark, chemically damaged hair.

Don't stoop to her level
, I admonished myself.

“So, you're too good for Yates already.” Hannah said. “Did you come here just to be able to learn all about us, to turn around and whisper into the ears of
Canterwood
students?”

“Hardly, Hannah,” I said. “Not that I have to explain to you or anyone else why I applied to Canterwood. And guess what? I know this may come as a shock to you, but it's not a crime to apply to other schools.”

“True. Unless you're crossing into enemy territory, which you are.” Hannah's dark brown eyes were smiling and suddenly, I got it.

Hannah
wanted
me to leave. Once I was gone, she'd be able to take my place on the social ladder.

Good luck getting Brielle and Ana to become your best friends
, I thought. Hannah couldn't become number one without them—and Ana and Bri wouldn't let that happen. We'd become friends at the stable because we'd just clicked. I hadn't known they were the It-Girls at Yates. After all, school hadn't even started yet when we'd met. They were just two girls that I liked at the stable. The first day of school, they'd invited me to sit with them at lunch. Ever since, the three of us had been joined at the hip.

Befriending Bri and Ana had never involved popularity. To me, popularity was measured by how you treated people and, in turn, the way people
saw you
.

I continued walking, staring straight ahead, my kitten-heeled sandals clicking on the floor. Once I got to our table, my tray clattered when I set it down and my
glass Pellegrino bottle almost tipped over and shattered. Suddenly, Yates didn't feel like
my
school anymore. For the first time since moving to Union, I felt like an outsider—like the new girl.

At least it was the final week of school. Maybe in the fall, when I didn't get into Canterwood, everyone would be over it by then.

But part of me, a tiny part, thought of something else: If I got into Canterwood, I'd never have to see any of them ever again.