Chosen (15 page)

AFTER CLASS ON MONDAY, I SHUT MY BED
-room door behind me and tossed my backpack onto the floor.

Ugh!
I flopped onto my bed, massaging my temples with my fingers.

School hadn't gotten any better. As if things could possibly have gotten any worse, Brielle and Ana—my
best
friends—seemed to be distancing themselves from me. Since, you know, my social leprosy was contagious. I took a meditative breath. It was an hour before my riding lesson and I needed to get my mind off school so that I could put my focus where it belonged: in the arena.

Beside me, my phone chimed.

Taylor:

Hey! Didn't c u all day. U ok?

Lauren:

Yeah. Just glad school's over
.

Taylor:

Laur, if ur talking abt what ppl are saying—don't let them ruin this 4 u
.

Lauren:

Trying not 2. It's hard
.

Taylor:

Ur stronger than this—I know it
.

Lauren:

Thx. But I don't get the big deal
.

Taylor:

Yates is tight. Ppl prob thnk ur leaving 4 smthng better
.

Why did
everyone
keep saying that? It wasn't true and I was sick of hearing the pathetic excuse.

Lauren:

But, I'm not. You know that. I know that
.

Taylor:

I know, Laur. I was only guessing what people are probably thinking. But who cares—you don't know for sure what's going on and it's the last week of school. Stick with B and A or me
.

Lauren:

I will. Thanks, Tay. TTYL
.

Taylor:

Laur—pls don't worry about it. Rlly. We should talk ltr
.

Lauren:

Thanks. Rlly. I'm ok
.

I exited our chat. It didn't feel as though my friends
or
my boyfriend understood what I was going through. I buried my face in my pillow, taking several deep breaths.

I thought about our Brooklyn brownstone. I needed a cup of tea.

I got up and walked to the kitchen, taking my time choosing my tea. I decided I needed something calming and without caffeine. The teapot whistled and I poured the kettle water over a vanilla chamomile tea bag. I took my time pouring, watching the tea bag drown and resurface, drown and resurface.

The house was empty—Mom was at work and Dad was picking up Becca from lacrosse practice.

I climbed into the second story bay window, warming my fingers on my blue tea mug with white daisies.

Try to put yourself in Brielle, Ana, or Taylor's position,
I told myself. No matter what I'd said about being sure I'd be rejected, they all thought I might be leaving.
You'd act the same way if one of them could be leaving,
I told myself.

Was that true? Maybe. And maybe I hadn't given any
of them enough credit. Or maybe I hadn't thought enough about how hard any of this had to be on
them
.

I sipped my tea, feeling the calming liquid slide all the way down my throat, my esophagus, and finally settling in my stomach.

I had a lot of homework to do for the last week of school. But Yates teachers didn't let up for a second. Maybe, just for a minute, I needed to sit here in the quiet to enjoy my cup of tea-kettle tea.

I owed myself at least that.

I RAN UP BRIAR CREEK'S DRIVEWAY ON
Wednesday at a fast clip. It was a gloomy, overcast day, and I was already running behind. My last class had run over because our test had begun late. Apparently, the teachers didn't care that some of us actually had activities to get to after school.

I slowed to a fast walk, not wanting to scare any horses by running in the stable, and headed for the tack room.

“But Hannah wants to hang with us. She's been kissing up for days.”

I stopped when I heard that from inside the tack room. The voice was unmistakable.

Brielle.

Flattening my back against the door, I edged closer.
Eavesdropping was not my style, but this didn't sound like something they'd talked to me about.

“We
hate
Hannah,” Ana said. “If Laur goes away next fall, we can't just bring Hannah into our group. You know there's only one reason why she wants to hang with us.”

“To be popular,” Brielle answered. “But face it, Ana. Lauren is leaving. Hannah is next in line to be most popular and she thinks she needs
us
. Wouldn't it be smart to pretend like she's right and invite her into our group so we can all just stay on top?”

There was a long pause.

I couldn't
believe
what I was hearing! If I really ever left, of course I wanted Brielle and Ana to find other friends, but not
Hannah
. I thought we'd all hated her for what she'd done to me. I mean, Ana and Brielle were my closest friends. And I was still
here
! This made zero sense.

“I like being popular,” Ana said. “I guess I'd rather Hannah hang with us than to lose our place to her and the lame girls she hangs with.”

“Exactly,” Brielle said. “Not the best way to start seventh grade.”

My stomach did a flip. Were these people really my closest friends? They sounded like strangers now—calculating and cold like every other Yates student who'd
ditched me the second they found out that I'd applied to Canterwood.

I didn't want to hear another word.

I pushed the tack room door open and it banged against the wall, making a loud sound. Brielle and Ana jumped. I was glad, for once, that Kim hadn't gotten around to re-installing a new doorstop.

“What's going on?” I asked.

There hadn't even been a second when I'd thought about pretending I hadn't heard them. First, I didn't have a poker face. Second, playing games wasn't my style.

Brielle and Ana's faces turned pink. No poker faces there, either.

“Hey,” Brielle said, her voice unnaturally high. “We're just getting our tack—we're late. You just get here?”

“Stop, Brielle,” I said. “Just . . . stop. I heard what you just said.”

“What?” Ana asked, her voice low.

“I heard all of it,” I said.

“Laur,” Brielle said, twisting a lock of her loose hair. “Look, we're sorry. We were just talking about possibilities. Options. Things Ana and I might need to do to keep up our status if you left next year.”

“Your
status
? I haven't even gotten a
reply
from
Canterwood, let alone an acceptance.” I didn't mean to yell, but my frustration with everyone and the entire situation seemed to be coming out all at once. “I can't believe you guys were my
best friends
! I had no idea I was so replaceable. Especially when
Hannah
is the one replacing me. Hannah, who humiliated me in front of the entire room just the other day.”

“We're
not
replacing you,” Ana said. She tried to touch my arm, but I jerked it away. “Laur-Bell, I promise. No one could ever take your place as our bestie.”

“So what role will Hannah play?” I snapped.

Brielle and Ana were silent for a second.

“Hannah,” Brielle finally started, “would become part of our group so that Ana and I stay popular. I mean, what if she realizes she doesn't
need
us. We're supposed to just let Hannah and her little friends take over our grade? I don't think so. We were only
considering
asking her to be friends with us so we could stay popular.”

“Since when do we care that much about being popular?” I asked. “I never cared what other people thought of me until I had you guys. Being popular at Yates? It just happened. We were all nice to people and, face it, we got a little lucky. Is this what you want whether I'm here or not?”

Ana gave a small nod. “Yeah,” she said.

I looked as her as though she were a stranger. And in a way, the Ana I was friends with was not the Ana before me now.

“I know, I know. I'm an artist, right? I shouldn't care what people think. I should only think about art and
feelings
. But you know what? I
like
being popular. I like my spot at the top. I want to stay there.”

I stared at Ana like I'd never seen her before. “Wow,” I said, unable to keep emotion out of my voice this time. My eyes filled with shock and furious tears. “I have no idea who you are, Ana.”

“Lauren,” Brielle said. “Please don't be upset. We were only talking about options for next year. Just like you're doing with Canterwood.”

“It's not the same thing!” I shouted, stepping around them and grabbing Cricket's tack. “I applied to Canterwood to work hard and challenge myself as a rider. You guys are . . . manipulating people in order to
make
them think you're someone you're not. You're pretending to like people you can't stand—all for a spot in the freaking
lunchroom
.”

I stared at them for a while, at the makeup I hadn't noticed they'd begun to wear. The expensive trendy bags
with labels others coveted always promptly displayed. Clothes with skirts getting shorter and shorter, necklines inching lower. I, for the lack of anything to say, opened the tack room door to leave. And with one last, sad look, said what it was I was truly feeling to people who used to be my friends. Not popular girls, or my besties, or the people I'd once confided in. But strangers who I thought I'd known—only one short day ago.

“I hope you get what you want,” I told them. “But if what you want is nothing but popularity, I feel deeply sorry for you.”

I let the door swing shut behind me, leaving them in the room and glad that they didn't follow me, despite the fact they'd both called my name when I'd left.

When I got to Cricket's stall, I took her tack inside with me, picked up her grooming kit from the top of her trunk, and locked us both inside. I didn't want to be out in the aisle with everyone else. Hiding in here was impossible—Brielle and Ana would find me eventually, but at least I'd get some space from everyone else.

I busied myself grooming Cricket. The bay mare's coat was dusty from being in her stall overnight, but making it shine was easy. I whisked dirt off her back and sides. Her coat began to gleam with each brushstroke.

“At least I know you're not hoping I leave so you can find a new rider to replace me,” I muttered. “Besides, the joke would be on you. I'm not getting into Canterwood, girl.”

I fell into a rhythm of grooming Cricket while my thoughts wandered. Had I made a mistake just by
applying
to Canterwood? If there was this much turmoil going on before I got a yes or no, I couldn't imagine what would happen once everyone found out I hadn't gotten in. Would everyone keep hating me because I'd once tried to leave? Would I have to watch Hannah, Brielle, and Ana become the worst kind of people imaginable just to stay popular? How far would they go to hold on to their lunch table? Would I have to watch my former friends become the worst people in the world while the girls I'd once confided in disappeared, bit by bit, until there was nothing left?

Someone knocked on Cricket's stall door. I looked up at Brielle and Ana, peering at me.