Taking The Reins (The Rosewoods Book 1) (9 page)

“I’m to understand that you’ve won over a dozen blue ribbons in dressage.”

Over a dozen? That was a stretch. But I had no way of knowing who was exaggerating, and wasn’t about to call her on it. “I was very successful,” I said, figuring that was enough of the truth. “I worked very hard.”

She inclined her head slightly; respect, perhaps?

“He also tells me that the practice schedule conflicts with your community service assignment.”

I nodded.

“What do you intend to do about that?”

What do
I
intend to do? Huh?

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t understand.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t be at two places at once, unless I’m more behind on reading my scientific journals than I thought. So how are you going to handle this situation?”

“I...I had hoped maybe you could excuse me from my community service assignment?”

When the dean laughed humorlessly, I knew I’d said the wrong answer. 

“Try again, Ms. Prescott.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Let me give you a hint, young lady,” she said, smirking. But not in an evil way, just sort of like she was amused. Yes, I realize there’s a fine line in this situation between amused and evil, but I didn’t get the feeling that she was really
trying
to be a dragon, despite the outcome being that she was, well, being a dragon.

“Most of the girls here at Rosewood come from privilege, you included, of course, since you’re not on scholarship. And with privilege often comes a sense of entitlement and the belief that anything can be bought or influenced to desired results. That may be true in some aspects of life, but not all, and I do you no favors if I make your life perfect. What we try to foster here is an appreciation for life being difficult and unfair and not always what we sign up for. There are consequences to our actions and nothing we do is ever in a vacuum. Do you understand me?”

Sort of. “You’re saying no one gets off easy here.”

She nodded. “In essence, yes.”

“So you’re not going to let me get out of the community service assignment.”

“That is correct,” she said, leaning forward again, resting her forearms on the desk. She continued to stare at me, waiting.

I cleared my throat. “Ma’am, would you please provide me with a different assignment? One that is at a different time, so I may attend the equestrian practices?”

“No.”

What?

“Ma’am, I’m not trying to get out of doing an assignment, but if you could...”

“Stop!” She slapped her hand down on the desk blotter, halting me mid-sentence and almost making me pee my pants. She exhaled loudly and then continued, thankfully in a more reasonable tone. “Ms. Prescott, I understand your predicament, but I am not going to do anything to make this easy for you. I can’t change things for every girl who comes in here and wants to adjust her schedule, can I?”

“No, ma’am.”

“So. What are
you
going to do?”

Besides wish I’d ditched French?
“Um, not join the equestrian team?”

She frowned, looking disappointed, almost making me burst into tears on the spot.

“Is that truly your only option?”

I swallowed as I stood there, fidgeting from foot to foot and trying desperately to figure out what she wanted from me. But maybe...maybe what she wanted from me is exactly what she was saying: that she wanted me to figure it out, find a solution on my own.

But what? Shifting my weight again, I looked around the room as though her diploma-covered walls would offer up suggestions.

Sadly, they didn’t.

“Ms. Prescott?”

I looked at the dean again.

“I’m a very busy woman. I am responsible for this entire school and all of the pupils and staff in it. Are you wasting my time?”

“No ma’am,” I said, but feared it was a lie. She continued to stare at me, her eyes unwavering.

She opened her mouth and I was sure she was about to throw me out when I said, “Wait! Would it be acceptable if I could trade assignments with one of my fellow students?”

The smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of her mouth. “If you were able to find a student to trade assignments with, under these circumstances and this one time, I would find that acceptable and allow it so you could join the equestrian team. However,” she gave me a pointed look, “If I find out that you used any sort of negative coercion or threats, you will be off that team in a heartbeat. Do you understand me?”

My heart danced in my chest. I was going to get to join the team! “Yes, ma’am,” I said, managing to keep my excitement in check.

“However...”

Ugh. Why is there
always
a however?

“Since Mr. Fleming assures me of your advanced equestrian skills, negating the need for a tryout, you will report today to your assignment as directed and will continue with it until such time as you find a replacement. When you do find a replacement, you must return here and give my secretary a letter signed by both of you agreeing to the change. Just because I allowed you this, doesn’t mean you get a free pass. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Thank you.”

She gave one of her little nods. “You are welcome. Dismissed.”

I bowed a little and turned toward the door.

“Oh and Ms. Prescott?”

I turned.

“What is your current assignment?”

“Laundry.”

With a wide-eyed stare that I was unable to interpret, she wished me the best of luck.

~♥~

I
t didn’t take long to figure out the dean was being facetious when she’d wished me luck finding someone to take my community service assignment.

Chelly and Celia were both somewhat sympathetic in their denials, which were swift and about what I expected. Kaylee did seem sorry, but she’d just signed up for morning yoga at the sports complex and Emmie, well, I didn’t even ask her since she had such a plum assignment with her boyfriend.

So then I had to start asking strangers. Not a great plan, but what else could I do? Although, now that it had become what seemed like an impossible task, I was starting to wonder if it was even worth it. Did I really want to join the equestrian team so badly? Did I want to end up spending so much time with Brady, who had intentionally deceived me?

I had half a mind to go out to the stables to confront him about it, but first I had to report to Sub-basement B for my first laundry shift.

Which explained exactly why I was never going to find anyone to take my assignment.

T
hat night, I returned from my orientation in the laundry and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, but I had what felt like eight layers of dried sweat, bleach, detergent and other people’s grime all over me.

“Orientation” had turned into two hours of hard labor, sorting all the laundry; sheets, towels, table linens and loads of personal clothes, putting it into the massive machines and then sorting everything as it came out again. I couldn’t believe there was so much to wash already after only a couple days on campus, but one of the full-time employees told me that most of the staff and some teachers worked year round. That meant this was just a fraction of what I was to expect starting the following week. Awesome.

I really needed to switch assignments—forget about how much I wanted to join the equestrian team, if I continued in this job, it might just kill me. The only saving grace was that it would only be an hour and a half a day, although I couldn’t imagine doing a full day of school after all this physical work. I wasn’t in the best shape ever, but still, this assignment was beyond hard core.

So when I got into my room, I was desperate for a shower and then bed. Thankfully Emmie was out, since I was so tired, coherent speech wasn’t possible. Kicking off my shoes at the door, I tore off my clothes right there and headed straight into the bathroom. I stepped into the tub, turning on the shower, bathing on autopilot.

When I emerged, the room was still quiet, but it was different than it had been before dinner. It took me a moment to realize Emmie’d been up to some decorating while I’d been out; her side of the room was covered in posters. Most were for PETA (thankfully no gory ones), Fair Trade and other human service organizations. Except for the one beside her pillow that was for a tatted up punk band.

If I hadn’t been a comatose zombie, I would have found that amusing. But all I had the brain to do was set my alarm for 5:45, because I was due back at the laundry at 6:00.

FML.

~♥~

S
omething dragged me out of a dead sleep. One of those really deep sleeps that when you wake up, you have no idea where you are or whether it’s morning or night. Or sometimes, who you are.

I looked around, but it was still dark, so I put my head back down.

“Brooklyn?”

I groaned.

“Wake up,” Emmie whispered, which seemed counterproductive.

“What?” I moaned.

“We need to talk.”

“In the middle of the night?” I didn’t even care how whiny I sounded. She was being a very bad roommate.

“It’s not even ten o’clock!”

“In the morning?” I suddenly sprang up to seated, squinting at her as she sat on the edge of my bed. The bathroom light was on, but it was so far away, all I could see was her shadow.

“No, silly. At night. It’s like nine-forty. How long have you been back here?”

My upper body wasn’t able to hold itself up anymore; I fell back onto my pillow. “I don’t know. They let us leave the laundry at 9, but they just about killed me. What’s going on?” I felt it necessary to ask. I didn’t really care, but felt like I should.

“We need to talk,” she said again, although this time I was slightly more conscious.

I couldn’t see her face, but her tone suggested something serious. I sat up again, more slowly this time. “What’s the matter?”

She blew out a breath. I reached for my lamp and turned it on, blinking at the sudden light. “What is it, Emmie? Did something happen with Dave at your meeting tonight?”

“No, it’s not that.”

She was making me nervous. “What then?”

She exhaled again and then said, “Well, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but it’s kind of like I feel like we really connected or something. Maybe even like we knew each other in past lives, if you buy into that kind of thing.”

I didn’t, but I had felt the connection. I nodded.

“Well,” she looked down at her hands, fidgeting her fingers. 

“What is it, Emmie?” The sooner she blurted out whatever it was, the sooner I could get back to sleep. Yes, now I was being the bad roommate, but I was
really
tired.

“Why didn’t you ask me to trade CSAs with you?”

I had to have heard her wrong. “What?”

“You asked everyone else except me.”

“Yeah. Because you have a plumb position with your boyfriend. I wouldn’t ask you to change that.”

“Why not?”

“Emmie, have you been drinking?”

She didn’t laugh. “No, Brooklyn. I’m serious. Why?”

As a stalling tactic while I tried to figure out something to say, I rubbed at my eyes with my palms. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me. Your thing is more important.”

“How is my thing more important than yours? You want to join the equestrian team; if I took your assignment, you could.”

“Yeah, and you’d be stuck in the bowels of the school doing people’s dirty laundry and you would be giving up seeing Dave all the time. Not to mention your assignment sounds like fun and not dark ages drudgery.”

She finally looked at me. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“You think I didn’t ask you because I was mad at you for something?”

She shrugged. “Helping is what I do.”

I glanced up at all the posters on her walls. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I’ll do it,” she declared.

Now I was sure she was drunk. “Emmie, no.”

She nodded. “Yes. I want to.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Maybe.”

“Emmie, tonight was the hardest most physical two hours of my entire life. I can’t ask you to take it. You’ll end up hating me.”

“Never,” she said, with a decisive head shake. “I want to do it. Brooklyn, really. Let me do this for you.”

I couldn’t imagine any reason why she would do this, unless. “Is something wrong between you and Dave?”

“No,” she said immediately. “Dave has nothing to do with it. This is between you and I. Dave is great, and spending more time with him would be awesome, but I try to live outside my comfort zone to remind me that other people don’t have everything they want. I was being all elitist earlier when I said I was happy about the assignment and if it was due to nepotism, well, I definitely don’t want it. I’d rather see you do it and get to be on the equestrian team.”

“And anyway,” she continued, flexing her biceps. “I could use to work out in the mornings.”

I took a deep breath and considered what she’d said. It made me feel terribly elitist, but even more than that, lucky to have her as a friend and roommate. “Jeez, you make it seem like I’ll be doing you a favor. How can I refuse?”

She threw her arms around me in what I was starting to know as an Emmie hug.

“So what do I have to do, just report in tomorrow morning?” she asked when we parted.

“We’ve got to take a signed affidavit or something to the dean’s office, so I’d better go tomorrow morning. That means you have tonight to reconsider.”

She shook her head. “Not a chance. I want to do this.”

“Have you ever done laundry? Your own or anyone else’s?” I asked.

She laughed. “Yes, freshman year. Why do you think my parents donated a building?” She clicked off my lamp.

“Back to sleep for you. Sweet dreams, roomie,” she said, getting up off my bed as I lay back down. “I promise to be quiet,” she whispered.

But I was already ninety percent asleep.

~♥~

T
he next morning, after my crack-of-dawn stint down at the laundry and a hurried breakfast, Emmie and I went to the dean’s office with the letter she’d drafted for us. I’d thought the secretary would have just taken it for us, to be delivered to the dean later, but no, the dean herself was available to discuss it with us.