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Authors: Cara Bertrand

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BOOK: Second Thoughts
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“What? How?”

Very fast, as if all one word and with at least two exclamation points, she said,
“Wegotaroomatthehotel!!”

“What? How?” I repeated, just like an owl.

“Caleb's leaving in the morning for a college trip and he got permission.”

There was still something missing. Knowing Amy as I did, she should have been talking about this for weeks. Instead, she was springing it on me now, moments before we were leaving. I knew some other students got rooms; their parents gave permission and they took cars or cabs home in the morning. But Amy's parents weren't the kind who'd do that.

Bingo.

“What about
your
permission?”

Amy tapped her perfectly painted nails—they were black with sparkly silver stripes and I wanted to copy them immediately—on the wall and cleared her throat. I wondered if she thought by telling me at the last minute, I might not ask. “Who's going to notice?”

“Ame…” I started and she sighed dramatically, but I continued. “I know, I know, but it's not a good idea. Just stay there for a while and come back before morning. Is it really worth the risk?”

“For an
entire
night and the chance to wake up together for, like, the first time ever? Yeah. Besides, there's no risk.”

“That's not—”

“Lane,” she said and her tone told me there was no convincing her otherwise. “I'll see you in the morning sometime. Drink your champagne and relax, okay? Now it
does
feel like last year again,” she added and giggled, our moment of disagreement was forgotten. I knew anything I said would be wasting my breath, so I finished my champagne like she suggested. I wouldn't, however, let her pour me another glass.

T
HE BALLROOM WAS
just as beautiful as last year, though entirely different, in a color scheme of royal blue and cream with tiny hints of maroon in some lights and decorations. Naturally then, Alexis was in a dress of vibrant red that shined as if she'd been spotlit. The satin hugged her like skin, with a sweetheart neckline and a long skirt that looked impossible to move in but so sophisticated. In comparison, my simple green dress suddenly felt plain.

“Wow, over-the-top much?” Amy said when she saw where I was looking and I squeezed her hand in solidarity.

From behind me, Carter whispered in my ear, “Not even half as beautiful as you.”

“Besides, I bet she can't even dance in that thing!” Amy added.

“You guys are the best.” Sometimes a girl didn't mind a few little white lies.

Alexis was a sure standout, but Brooke's short dress was probably the best one in the whole room. It looked almost vintage, with a fitted strapless top that made her waist look impossibly small and a flouncy skirt that didn't quite hit her knees. Under the top layers of the skirt
was a bohemian sort of pattern that was so unique and all Brooke. The gold sparkles matched the amber in her eyes.

When Dr. Stewart made her way to the podium to announce Winter Queen my stomach began to flutter. I realized I was repeatedly smoothing my dress across my legs and stopped. Amy caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up.

“Dork,” I muttered, but her goofy grin made me laugh. A year ago, I wouldn't have thought it possible that I could even be a candidate. But tonight, I might
win.
A lot of me
didn't
want that, but I'd be a liar if I said it was all of me. Carter squeezed my hand as we waited.

Next to us, Caleb said, “Where's the crown?”

Exactly what I was thinking, but pretending not to. Something was up. Last year, someone had carried the little tiara onto the stage behind the headmaster. In her best headmaster voice, Dr. Stewart welcomed us and thanked us and commented on the long tradition of the Winter Ball and after not very long it all sounded to me exactly like radio static. I just wanted her to get it over with and announce my name or not.

Finally,
finally
she said, “And it seems that this year, for the first time in the Ball's long history, we have no Winter Queen.” Gasps and murmurs filled the air and my stomach plummeted. Alexis's jaw dropped perilously close to her knees. After a pause long enough to make us all uncomfortable, she said, “We have
two.”

Two sophomores carried two matching tiaras up to the front, while Dr. Stewart called, “A return queen, Miss Alexis Morrow, and new queen Miss Elaine Young,” and my whole face became one huge grin. I'd never have guessed the headmaster had any sort of flair for the dramatic, but boy did she.

“Shit,” Amy muttered, but I wasn't even trying to hide my delight. A tie! I'd sort of won! But I hadn't completely taken the crown from Alexis and she cared
way
more than I did.

“Please congratulate them both,” Dr. Stewart continued, “and also, wish Miss Young a happy birthday!” It dawned on me that she'd probably known about this all day. My visit to her office seemed so long ago.

“Guess I really should have voted for myself,” I mused as I started toward the front. I could hear Amy groaning behind me. But then she had to get up and follow, because despite her worries and mine, she was elected to the court too. When they called Brooke's name, I was even more thrilled.

The only person
not
thrilled was Alexis. I could see it in the stretch of her smile and the shine of her eyes. She was proud and beautiful, waiting for her crown, but also disappointed. I took my place next to her on the little stage and whispered, “I voted for you. Just so you know.”

She was surprised. More surprised than the tie. I didn't think it crossed her mind that her competition might support her. After a longer pause than even Dr. Stewart's she said, “Thanks. I guess I wouldn't be up here if it wasn't for you.”

“Not really,” I said. “It's not like I cast all the votes. And I voted for the girl who I thought made the best queen.”

After she'd leaned down to receive her crown and I'd done the same, during the whoops and applause of our classmates, Alexis surprised
me.
“Just by saying that you proved yourself wrong. But thank you anyway. This”—she cleared her throat—“means a lot to me.”

“I know,” I said, and to both our continued shock, I hugged her. A stiff second later she hugged me back. But not for too long.

“Your cast is giving me a bruise,” she said and pulled away. I smiled, because that was Alexis.

After that, we danced. And laughed, and shouted along to the music, and partied, and by the end, hugged and cried. It was the Winter Ball of our senior year and it was
amazing.
Everything I'd hoped it
would be. It felt like nothing bad could possibly happen, tonight or ever again, and I realized I'd been wrong earlier: last year actually
could
be topped, except in a
good
way. A whole night dancing in the warm safety of Carter's arms, surrounded by friends and even a few enemies who were having just as much fun as me—it was so perfect it didn't seem real. But it
was.

Before it ended, Amy and Caleb were ready to sneak upstairs, and I gave them each a last hug goodbye. “Be careful, and don't be
too
late,” I told Amy.

“You
be careful,” she said, laughing. “‘Night, Lane. Night, Penrose. I love you guys.” She gave her dress one more twirl before she slipped out the door.

Carter was standing behind me, arms around my waist, while I leaned into him and swayed to the music. “They were happy tonight,” he said and I nodded my head against his chest.

“It was a great night.”

“No. It was
perfect.”

I smiled and tilted my head way back so he could see me looking up at him. “It kind of was, wasn't it?”

He leaned down to kiss me, lightly, once on the lips. Silly and awkward, it was the best kiss of the evening. So far.

“You know what's even better?” I asked.

“What?”

“The night's not over yet.”

Chapter Seventeen

I
n the morning, I slept late—way late—and lounged in bed for a long time. There was no reason not to; Carter was long gone and I had nothing I had to do. I felt like the longer I stayed there, the longer it was still part of the night before. Amy wasn't back yet, which would have worried me if I was letting myself worry about a single thing.

My lips tightened into a surely pouty line across my face. I envied Amy, I realized. I
could
have gotten off-campus privileges for the night if only I'd thought to ask. But I could still get them
today.
I decided to call Carter, knowing he'd be up even though he wasn't working, and have him take me to Dad's.

As I reached for the phone, my Winter Queen crown caught my eye and brought back my smile. I plucked it off my bedside table and balanced it on my messy hair. Hidden underneath it, half poking out from under my alarm clock—which Amy said was archaic and I should just use my phone like everyone else—was something that didn't belong there. An envelope.

The edge of a bright green sticky note was just visible. On it was my name in Ms. Kim's handwriting.
A birthday card,
I thought.
Yay!
She
must have given it to Amy when I was still at the spa, and Amy promptly forgot about it.

But under the sticky note was a message scrawled by Uncle Martin about how I'd been rushed away before he could give this to me. It was a birthday
something,
just not from Ms. Kim. This was the envelope from Daniel Astor. Inside was a handful of pages, topped with a note.

Dear Lainey,

A very happy birthday along with my gift to you. I saw no reason for you to wait for these. I look forward to learning what you choose.

Best,

D.A.

Folded underneath were personal acceptance letters from all of my top colleges.

T
HE LETTERS SLID
from my hands and I watched my future scatter across the floor while my heart began to race. When I bent to retrieve the papers, my silly tiara toppled off my head and one of the rhinestones popped loose. I kicked it, sending it to sparkle alone under my bed.

Hands shaking, I picked up the letters, one by one, and read them again. And again. They said nothing remarkable,
Congratulations on your acceptance to…We look forward to seeing you in the fall…,
but they were here, all of them, and it was only February. It's not that I wasn't expecting to be accepted, but…what? Why was this bothering me so much?

It wasn't because of excitement that my hands shook. It was something else.

For a while now, Uncle Dan had been mentally penciled onto my short list of pleasant thoughts. It was hard not to be caught up in his mystique, flattered by the attention he showed me. How many girls
could count a U.S. senator among the people taking an active interest in her life? And that wasn't even considering all the
other
things he was. I'd been clinging to the idea that he was a
positive
in my life when it had felt like literally every other thing was fucked up.

But lately, everything else
hadn't
been so bad at all. The vision wasn't looming, my friends were mostly happy, and the future seemed like a real possibility again. Maybe that gave me the perspective I'd previously lacked, or purposefully ignored.

If I'd told Amy, or any one of my friends, about the senator's notes, they'd have told me it was strange. Maybe even creepy. The only one who'd understand was Alexis, and she wasn't my friend.

I'd never taken the time to think about how odd it was that the notes had found me at personal moments. I'd accepted it as part of the senator's charm that he preferred hand-written gestures, and thought the strange delivery of them was just further proof of that charm. A minute ago, when I'd unfolded the thick pages of stationery from my four favorite schools, signed personally by the presidents of each and delivered by my own uncle, I'd been awed.

But more than that, I'd been freaked.

It was like my brain flipped a switch. Just like that, I went from fantasy to reality. Just like in the woods with Carter the day I'd visited the cemetery. One second I'd thought one thing, the next I knew the truth.

I'd convinced myself Dan wasn't pressuring me to join them, to take up the Marwood family's mantel. He was giving me solid arguments to help make a difficult decision; he was making my life
easier.
He was my uncle, this blood relative that only I knew about. Someday I'd have the courage to tell him that, and then he'd love me and I'd have a family, a
real
family even more than the one I had now.

These were, I realized, my fantasies.

The notes, the acceptances, everything—it wasn't evidence of Senator Astor's charm and thoughtfulness; it was his power and its reach. It went all the way into the deepest parts of my personal life. I'd spent most of the year feeling unsure who to trust, not even myself or Carter, and thinking that maybe Dan could be the one I did.

And now, I wasn't unsure at all. I was certain I'd been wrong.

Restless, and no longer hungry, I abandoned the plan to call Carter. Instead, I threw on my cold weather gear and snuck off campus. What I
really
wanted to do was go to the shooting range, except for a few more days my right hand was still in a cast. But what I wanted most was the feeling of concentration and exhilaration that came with the shooting. A long run on a clear winter day would be a close approximation.

The cool quiet of the forest welcomed me. At first, I counted my steps, like sheep, like it would lull me into a place where all I could hear were the thumps of my stride and the numbers that ticked off my progress. It worked. With every step, I concentrated a little harder on what I was doing and a little less on the rest of my life. By my second mile, I was in a groove, running fast and watching my footfalls on the packed snow.

BOOK: Second Thoughts
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