Elite Ambition (2 page)

To: Sasha Silver ([email protected])

From: Jacob Schwartz ([email protected])

Subject: re: re: re: re: re: Hey

 

Sash, I never want to hurt Callie either. And I don't want you to feel guilty about Eric, but like you said—you've moved on and I believe you when you say you want to be his friend. I think we should definitely meet when we get back to campus. Let's talk about this before things get crazy with school. I can't wait to see you.

Jacob

As if I'd needed to read those e-mails again. I folded the papers and looked out window of Heather's Lincoln Town Car. The driver, Paul, pulled up to campus. Heather stared out the opposite window. We'd barely said a word to each
other during the car ride from her New York City penthouse to Canterwood Crest Academy.

I stuck the papers in my purse and rubbed my eyes. For the entire fall break, Heather had been e-mailing Jacob as me. When I'd found out last night, I'd lost it over what she'd done.

This morning, I'd expected to wake up hating her. She'd hacked into my e-mail account, wrote my almost ex–boyfriend, and had arranged for Jacob and “me” to meet at the fountain at school. Heather hadn't apologized. She said she'd given me options—I could meet Jacob or not.

The choice was mine.

I'd been
furious
in that moment and had been in a panic about what I'd do when we got back to school.

But when I'd woken up, I hadn't hated Heather. She was
Heather Fox
after all and that's how she handled situations. She took control and tried to solve problems the “Heather” way, even if they weren't hers to fix. I'd known that about her for a long time. As I'd finished packing this morning, I kept waiting for the rush of anger. But that never happened.

I had to admit the truth to myself. Heather had been right last night when she'd said by e-mailing Jacob, she'd done what I couldn't. She'd told him exactly how
I was feeling and nothing she'd e-mailed him had been a lie. Heather had told him everything I'd been too scared to think about, let alone e-mail to Jacob. Last night, I hadn't decided whether I was going to meet Jacob or not, but this morning, I'd known exactly what I was going to do.

Heather hadn't asked for my answer.

Paul eased the car up the winding driveway and passed rows of dark-railed fences that kept bay, black, gray, and other beautiful horses from roaming free. Even though I'd only been away for a week during fall break, the beauty of the campus almost made me press my nose to the glass. I wanted to take in every inch of the gorgeous Connecticut campus.

Sometimes, I still couldn't believe that I—a small town girl from Union, Connecticut—had been accepted to one of the most prestigious boarding schools on the East Coast. Not only was Canterwood
insanely
tough academically, but it also boasted a top-notch equestrian program. Thinking about riding made me miss my horse, Charm, so much that I almost wanted to climb out of the moving car and run toward the stable.

I frowned.

Before I could do that, I'd have to go back to my room
and face a situation I'd been avoiding for the entire fall break—my falling out with Paige at the Homecoming dance that had caused me to stay at my former arch-nemesis's penthouse, instead of getting the planned break with my BFF/roomie.

 2 

BEF … RIGHT?

“T
HANKS AGAIN FOR EVERYTHING,” I SAID TO
Paul. I hugged him and he gave me a warm embrace back.

“It was my pleasure,” he said, unloading the last of Heather's and my suitcases from the car. “I hope you visit again.”

He hugged Heather, too, and got into the car. Heather and I watched the car disappear down the driveway, then looked at each other.

“So, do you still totally hate me for e-mailing Jacob?” Heather asked. Her blue eyes stayed on my face. A light September breeze blew back her blond hair and she folded her arms across her long-sleeve hunter green shirt.

“No,” I said. “I hate what you did. But I do believe you
were trying to help. You went about it the wrong way, but it wasn't because you were trying to mess up things any more than they already are with Jacob and me.”

I tucked back strands of my own golden-brown hair. Heather shifted, taking a breath.

This morning, I'd just thrown on old jeans, a T-shirt, blue hoodie, and sneakers. I was saving my new Manhattan clothes from our shopping spree for when school officially started tomorrow. But Heather looked back-to-school ready in skinny jeans and peep-toe wedges.

“Let's get one thing clear,” Heather said. “I didn't do it to be nice. I did it because you helped me to talk to Troy.” She paused, looking at the gravel driveway. “It would have taken me forever to do that on my own. I owed you. So don't get all gross and gushy on me.”

“Well, whatever your reasons—thanks.” I thought for a minute. “I know what I have to do now.”

Heather popped up the handle of her suitcase and looked at me. “What's that?”

“I'm going to the fountain.”

Together, Heather and I rolled our luggage up the sidewalk until we got to the spot where we needed to split to get to our dorms—Winchester and Orchard. Heather hadn't
asked what I was going to tell Jacob when I met him. She'd set up our meeting and her job was done.

“Thanks again for letting me stay during break,” I said. “I really had fun. Exploring the city with you was great, and I'll have enough candy for a year after our trip to Dylan's.”

Heather smiled. “I had fun too,” she said. “But don't expect to stay with me during
every
break or something.”

I laughed. “Never.”

“And, BTW, I'm going to talk to Julia and Alison about throwing a private back-to-school party in our suite tomorrow night like around seven. It'll be something to look forward to after what you know is going to be a boring, ridic Monday. Want to come?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “That sounds like fun. And most def a good idea to have
something
to look forward to tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Heather said. She gave me a sideways look, waiting for me to say something—probably about my meeting with Jacob.

“See you in class,” I said, smiling at her.

Heather and I started down our respective sidewalks and, for a second, I glanced back over my shoulder at her. I half wanted to be following her back to Orchard. The Trio's
suite felt welcoming—there was anxiety about going back to my own room.

But you don't want to avoid the situation with Paige any longer,
I told myself. My pace slowed as I walked and I looked around at the campus, trying to distract myself from what I was about to face. I had no idea what I was walking into—whether if Paige would still be as apologetic as she had been—or how I'd react to whatever she said. Paige had tried to reach out to me over break, but I hadn't been ready to talk.

I pulled my pink suitcase behind me and looked at the campus as if I'd been away for more than a week. The leaves were starting to change from green to orange, red, and yellow. The sidewalks were swept clean of even a blade of grass. Students were entering their buildings with suitcases and duffel bags. Soon, the scramble to get ready for class tomorrow would begin.

I reached Winchester Hall and walked up the steps to the door. I grasped the iron railing, pausing for a second and taking a breath.

Just go,
I told myself.

I pulled open the door and wheeled my suitcase down the glossy wooden floor of the eighth-grade dorm. Looking at the eggshell white walls, the dry erase board
with SUICHIN'S ROOM, and the familiar faint scent of lemon made me feel at home.

I passed door after door until I reached the room I shared with Paige. Our dry erase board had its message in bubbly script that Paige had written in orange marker before we'd left.

HAPPY FALL BREAK! <3, S & P

I couldn't even look at the message. I pushed open the door.

“Hi.” Paige, facing the door, stood still and stared at me. Her tone wasn't the Paige I was used to hearing. It wasn't cold or snotty like Heather—it was cautious, unsure.

“Hey,” I said. I looked at the neat stacks of clothes on her bed. “When did you get here?”

Paige shrugged. She turned back to her clothes and started putting them on hangers. “I don't know. An hour or so ago, I guess.”

I lifted my suitcase onto my bed and unzipped it. Pulling out my clothes, I started unpacking, too, and we were silent as we put away our clothes. The tension in the room was ridiculous. I didn't want things to be like this. Neither Paige nor I needed this extra pressure before school started again. Paige had tried enough to apologize—it was my turn.

“Paige,” I said, sitting on the end of my bed. “I'm ready to listen and talk about what happened at the Homecoming dance if you still want to.”

Paige smoothed her jean skirt, which looked supercute with black tights, and sat at the edge of her own bed. “I want to talk,” she said. “Now that you're ready.”

We paused, both looking at each other—seeing who would go first.

I knew it was my turn. “You kept trying to apologize to me after Homecoming,” I said. “But you have to understand that I wasn't ready. What you said about me being jealous about you having a boyfriend really,
really
hurt my feelings.”

“I told you that I didn't mean what I said,” Paige said. “I know it's no excuse for what I said, but I swear that I didn't mean it. I was upset, and I wanted to say something that would hurt you.”

“And it did,” I said honestly. “Homecoming week was tough on me, and you knew that. It was too much hearing you—of all people—say that to me, after everything I'd gone through all week.”

Paige ducked her head. “I know. The entire week was hard on you, and I didn't give you as much support as I should have.
But
…”

I sat up a little straighter at that part. “But what?”

“I tried to apologize to you for an entire week,” Paige said. “I texted, called … and you never wrote me back. Not once. Not even to say you still
weren't
ready to talk. And that night at Butter—you humiliated me in front of Heather.”

That made my stomach hurt a little. I had told Paige that I hadn't wanted to talk about our fight in a not-so-private place. “I'm sorry. I should have handled that better. I wish I'd told you that in private instead of saying it like that right there.”

Paige's blinked and focused her green eyes on me. “I wish you would have too. That was so unlike you. It was almost like … never mind.”

“What?” I asked. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Paige ran her fingers through her red-gold hair. “It just sounded like something Heather would say, that's all.”

Whoa.
Considering Paige's dislike for Heather that was a huge insult. I wanted to defend myself and what I'd said, but I didn't want to start another fight with Paige. Not over that comment.

“I was just overwhelmed by seeing you at Butter,” I said. “What I said was harsh, and I'm sorry.”

I left Heather out of the conversation. She had nothing to do with this—it was between Paige and me.

Paige took a breath and rubbed her hands over her ivory face. “I don't want things to be weird between us. I'm truly sorry for what I said to you, and I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I believe you,” I said. “And I'm sorry about Butter. I wish we could have spent the break together. At least there will be plenty more chances for us to do that.”

Paige half nodded.

I wanted her to say yes, we did have more opportunities to do that, but she didn't. That stung a little. I shook it off and smiled at Paige.

“So, we're okay?” Paige asked.

I got up, and we hugged. “We're more than okay,” I said. “We're best friends and always will be.”