2:23 p.m.: First show!
I can’t believe I competed in my first show since Red Oak yesterday. I’m so proud of how everyone on my team and Khloe did. Here’s our haul:
CH: first and third
LR: second and fourth
CB: first and fourth
DA: first and third
KK: first and second
Moi: first and second
Um, Go Canterwood! At the end of the show, as the host school, Canterwood students had to help riders from Regent County Day, Saint Agnes Academy, and Sterling Prep if they needed anything.
When Khloe and I got back to our room, the first thing we did was pin our ribbons on our corkboard. Two blue and two red ribbons look très belle!
It hadn’t taken the other schools long to leave, and once they did, I headed straight to Whisper’s stall with treats. I’d stashed a can of vanilla frosting in the pantry at the stable. I took two carrots from the fridge, covering them in the frosting, and took them to Whisper. It was like she’d known what I was doing! She put her head over the stall door and stretched her neck toward me as I walked up to her.
So. Cute.
I fed her the carrots, and she dribbled orange slime onto my arms. I wouldn’t have cared if she’d covered me in carrot juice—she deserved the treats for how hard she’d worked. I feel like a neon sign that had been hovering over my head saying SHE HASN’T SHOWN SINCE RED OAK! is gone. That doesn’t mean I’m all “Sweet! First show down and I’m ready to enter every competition and up my difficulty.”
But it did boost my confidence.
After pinning our ribbons, K and I took turns showering and slipped into lounge clothes. We grabbed sodas, Doritos, and cupcakes from the common room.
Even though we’d gotten up at four, we were both wide awake. We gave each other the play-by-play of each of our classes. Then I told her about the PC run-in, and she nearly D-I-E-D when I told her what D had done.
Our convo went something like this:
Me: *finishes story of how D made P practically gallop her horse away from us*
K: OMIGOD! OMIGOD! OMIGOD! *puts the back of her hand across her forehead and swoons*
Me: That’s just who D is. He would have stood up for any of his friends.
K: *snorts* Yeah, puh-lease. Didn’t you pay attention to that scene in last week’s Southampton Socialites? You’re Dinah, and D’s River. D defended the honor of the girl he hearts. Just like when River punched that guy who told Dinah that he’d spread that awful rumor about her cheating on all of her old boyfriends. Dinah didn’t have time to even say a word before POW, River punched the loser.
Me: *shaking my head* Um, D didn’t punch anyone. And I’m not sure if he “hearts” me.
K and I went back and forth forever—she made me tell her every detail down to how D had stood. (Something about him leaning one way or the other, according to Flirt!, explained his level of protectiveness toward me. Khloe had declared that he was protective, but knew I could take care of myself.) We’d left it with K concluding that D was going to ask me to be his GF any second.
I don’t know about that, but I do know one thing: I have one birthday wish. I know you’re not supposed to say them aloud, but I don’t think typing it counts.
I hope D kisses me on my bday. ♥
Posted by Lauren Towers
I closed my laptop lid, the stickers covering the top making me smile. Hello Kitty. Puffy hearts. Sparkly stars. Horses.
Khloe was at Clare’s, watching a movie. She’d invited me, but I’d wanted to blog and maybe Skype with Becca, Ana, or Brielle. Khloe had understood and said she’d wanted to talk about my birthday party plans when she got back. Just the thought made me grin. My birthday was also my favorite holiday—Halloween. Khloe had already promised Becca that she was going to plan the best birthday bash ever, and knowing Khloe, I couldn’t wait to see what she’d come up with. Plus, it wasn’t far away—only three weeks! Three weeks and I’d be thirteen. I wondered if turning thirteen would feel different from any other birthday. It had to. Thirteen was a big deal.
I got up from my desk chair and hurried to my nightstand.
On my phone’s screen, a photo of a smiling blond, tan guy lit up, and TAYLOR FROST blinked at me.
I swiped my BlackBerry off the stand. Taylor’s name wasn’t exactly one I’d expected to see on my phone. We’d been BBMing a lot, but hadn’t talked much since I’d gotten here.
“Hey, Tay,” I said.
“Hi, LaurBell,” Taylor said.
The way he said my nickname made me smile. Taylor and I had a special relationship. He’d been my boyfriend for five months while I’d been at Yates. I’d had an insta-crush on him the second I’d seen him. Taylor had said hi to me one day, and that had led us to hallway conversations, which turned into lunch dates, then real dates, and soon we’d been BF and GF.
Taylor and I’d bonded over both being athletes—he was a swimmer. His dedication to swimming made it easy for him to understand my commitment to riding. I’d gone to every swim meet I could, and he asked about every lesson at Briar Creek.
“What’s up?” I asked, jumping back to the present. “I’m surprised you’re calling today. Did your dad ease up on the ‘Sundays are for family time and homework only’ rule?”
Taylor blew out a breath. “Hardly. He had to run to the office, shocker, so I had a few minutes to call. He asked if I wanted to come, but I made a very convincing case that I had too much homework.”
“I’m glad you called. Really glad.”
Taylor didn’t like to talk about his father—an investment banker who was trying to turn Taylor into a mini clone of himself.
“I know it’s not your favorite topic, but I want to make sure you’re okay. We haven’t talked about your dad in a long time. How are things?”
This was another aspect of my relationship with Taylor that wasn’t exactly common. Or, at least, not common with people I knew who broke up. Last summer, when I’d been accepted to Canterwood, Taylor and I had decided, mutually, to break up. We’d both considered a long-distance relationship. Taylor, however, being the mature guy that he is, wanted more for me. He wanted Canterwood to be a completely fresh start for me. In return, I’d wanted the same for him—to start seventh grade with the option to date whomever he wanted. We cared about each other too much to stay together. I was incredibly lucky that Taylor and I had been able to gradually transition our relationship from BF/GF to good friends.
“Eh,” Taylor said. “A little more intense than when you were here. He’s pressuring me to cut back my hours at the pool so I can spend more time shadowing him at work. I was worried for a while that he was going to make me quit the swim team.”
“Oh, Tay! I’m so, so sorry!” I plopped onto my bed. “I wish you’d told me. I know how much swimming means to you. It’s your thing, and you must have been so angry and scared at the thought of having to quit.”
“I was going to tell you, but you had enough going on. I was able to convince him that swimming was one of the school sports that actually took up the least amount of time. I mean, it’s probably not true, but I had to stay on the team.”
“Plus,” I said, “you have to have a physical activity at Yates. You could always remind your dad that an extracurricular like swimming will look good on your transcript, especially if you keep swimming in high school.”
Tay laughed. I pressed my ear closer to the phone. I’d missed his laugh. When he thought something was really funny and wasn’t laughing to be polite, he laughed so hard it shook his entire body.
“We’re on the same page,” Tay said. “Since seventh grade is so close to college, I reminded him about transcripts, and that helped my case.”
“Argh! Your dad has to let you be Taylor Frost—seventh grader at Yates—not Taylor Frost prepping for college and on his way to becoming vice president of Frost Investments.”
“Feel free to write that as an anonymous letter to my dad,” Taylor said. He sighed. “Thanks for asking about that, Lauren. It’s not the most fun thing to talk about, but talking to you makes me feel better.”
I wished I could hug him. “I’m never too busy to talk about anything. You’re one of my best friends, Tay. Please, please tell me when something’s going on, and even if I can’t help, at least you can vent.”
“You listened. It helps more than you know.”
There was silence for a few seconds. Not an awkward what-do-we-talk-about-now quiet. But a comfortable silence.
“So,” I said. “Subject change! Thanks for BBMing me about my show yesterday and being so excited.”
“Of course I was excited! I wish I could have been there. How did it feel to compete on your own horse?”
“Surreal. Wisp worked so hard, and I couldn’t have asked for more. I’ve always been proud of the horses I’ve rode in the past, but I didn’t know I could feel that level of pride.” I smiled, like always when I talked about Whisper. “I’ll have to get one of my friends to videotape us working out and send it to you. There’s this connection between us that I think is visible.” I giggled. “I know that sounds crazy.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Taylor said. “It sounds like you definitely found your horse soul mate. I’d love to see you ride her. Def get me a DVD.”
“I want the same from you,” I said. “Have one of the guys tape one of your meets. Deal?”
“Deal.”
I settled back onto my pillow and talked to Taylor until my phone beeped from a low battery. When I hung up, there were still so many things we had to talk about.