Dark walls, pressing in and offering no protection or comfort. Raised voices, reverberating against her skull. Worthless, stupid, ugly, a failure…each word hurting more than a lash or fist ever could. Slowly, the voices faded into a muted din, and the area became blurry. She sank into a different state of mind, oblivious to the violent world around her. She was shoved backwards. Numb. The corner of a table dug into her back, cutting flesh as she fell. Scarlet beads fell to the carpet. Numb, so numb. Always numb…
"Elizabeth?"
My eyes fluttered open, and as I blinked away the haze of sleep, distinguishing the dark silhouette in the doorframe. Noticing the lack of sunlight in the window parallel to my bed, I glanced at the alarm clock. The red letters flashed 5:48 a.m.
Making an intelligible noise in response, I flopped back into the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows.
"Sweetie, I know it's early, but you have to get up and get ready. We have a long drive ahead of us."
My eyes again wondered to the bedside table, where, illuminated by the fluorescent light of the alarm, a piece of paper sat. I was able to distinguish a flamboyant cursive logo emblazoned on the folded manila paper: Canterwood Crest Academy.
Sliding my legs out from under the comforter, I sat up and switched on the light. The tiny bedroom was flooded with its glow: simple bed with white sheets wrinkled from use, a small bedside table on which the lamp sat, and cramped closet in which sat two suitcases and three duffel bags, contents bulging from the barely-closed zippers.
Sure the room looked empty, but of course, I had only been there for thirteen days.
But that doesn't matter right now. The woman in the doorway looked at me expectantly, a wistful look on her young looking face.
"You know, you could always just stay. I know it's a little awkward right now, but things will get better…"
She trailed off as she caught sight of my solemn expression. "I really appreciate all that you've done to make me feel at home, Jen- ah, Mom…but…"
She nodded, hazel eyes so similar to mine full of understanding. "You just need to get a fresh start."
"Yes. A fresh start…" I echoed.
She smiled again, that same wistful expression. "Well, I'll get your bags and leave you to get dressed."
She pulled the bags out into the bright hallway and shut the door with a soft click.
I pulled out the outfit I had chosen the night before: dark wash skinny jeans, a fitted off-white sweater and a jade green scarf, along with undergarments and my black paddock boots. I carried them into the small bathroom and turned on the shower.
I showered quickly, squeezing the excess water from my naturally super curly honey blonde hair with a towel. I got dressed and brushed my teeth, staring at my reflection in the dingy full length mirror. My petite frame, accompanied with my narrow shoulders, made me look much younger than most almost-fifteen year olds.
I turned, and applied light concealer to even my skin tone and lessen the patch of freckles that were scattered across my nose. Using a dark terra-gold eyeliner pencil, I outlined my wide hazel eyes, adding to the expressive look with swipes of dark mascara.
I wasn't one to wear much makeup, so leaving it at that, I exited the bathroom. Buckling the leather bracelet that I always wore around my wrist, I ran my thumb across the shiny brass plate that read, in cursive, Jubilee.
I smiled, feeling a rush of affection for my horse. Jubilee was my six year old mare, whom I had owned for almost two years. We were inseparable, and competed in eventing divisions, as well as the occasional hunter show.
Knowing I would see her in a matter of minutes, I gathered the rest of my belongings and went downstairs.
Mom was leaning against the counter, drinking a mug of coffee. She set it in the sink as I came down the stairs.
"I put all your bags in the car, we can stop by Starbucks or something on the way to the barn. I don't really have any breakfast foods right now…sorry," she apologized, gesturing to the pantry.
I shook my head. "It's okay, I'm not a big breakfast eater anyways."
She nodded and grabbed her coat and keys. Opening the door, she paused.
"Warren wanted me to tell you he was sorry he wasn't able to say goodbye, he had work early," she murmured.
"Oh. That was nice of him," I replied curtly. Warren was my mom's husband, a tall, graying man in his fifties who was the CEO of some big business. He was nice, but seemed disincentive. No, that's not the word…unconnected. Yes, he seemed like he was constantly thinking about statistics or numbers or other work related things. But I had only met him a few times.
I followed my mom out to the rental truck we had borrowed from my trainer, Sarah, for the drive. Attached to the back of the rusty-red truck bed was a steel gray one-horse trailer.
My bags occupied the small space behind the seats and spilled into the front of the small cab, so I gingerly settled myself among my possessions in the most comfortable position possible. Mom, after several tries, started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. We drove in silence through the silent suburban neighborhood, grey morning light illuminating the symmetric white houses and immaculate lawns that still held the dark green of summer grass.
After a good fifteen minutes, we reached a large expanse of property bordered by neat white fencing. We rolled down the long gravel driveway, pulling up to a large white barn where bright orange lights illuminated the clean - for now - aisle way, where rows of horses sleepily poked their heads over the doors as we pulled up.
I hopped out and walked into the barn, inhaling the familiar and comforting scents of hay and grain and horse.
I walked down to the eighth stall, boots clicking on the granite floor. A soft whinny greeted me, and I smiled.
"Hey Ju, you ready for today?"
Jubilee's wide chocolate brown eyes stared at me from under a thick black forelock. I unlocked my wooden tack box and clipped the tie-dye lead rope to my mare's supple leather halter, opening the sliding stall door and leading her out into the aisle.
Standing at 15.2 hands, Jubilee was built with long legs and a smooth topline, with rounded hindquarters and powerful haunches. She was ¾ Thoroughbred and ¼ Connemara pony, a rare combination. Lean muscles flexed under a velvety dark bay coat, and at the end of a long curved neck was a refined, well featured head. Expressive wideset eyes bordered a swirl of white that sat above another streak of white that ended just above the noseband of her halter in a funny sort of blaze.
I dropped the lead rope and let it fall to the ground, knowing that Jubilee wouldn't go anywhere. Reaching into my tack box, I withdrew my grooming box, selecting the soft brush. Having bathed her excessively yesterday, she only needed a light grooming to remove the dust.
When her coat gleamed and her hooves were picked, I buckled on her light sheet to protect her from the cold Massachusetts air. Quickly wrapping her legs in shipping wraps, I led Jubilee out to the trailer while Mom gathered the contents of my tack box and put them in the truck.
Clipping her halter to the small clip attaching to the side of the trailer, I made sure the bulging hay net was securely fastened. I reached out to stroke Jubilee's sleek neck, and she nosed my cheek in response to my touch.
"Next time I see you, we'll be at Canterwood," I whispered. "And we'll finally be free of them. No more coming out to the barn at one in the morning, crying."
I blinked back hot tears, swallowing as my throat constricted. "It's a whole new start. Nobody there knows about all this, I'll just be another student."
Pushing all doubt and negativity from my mind, I gave Jubilee one last pat and joined Mom in the truck. Taking one last look at the barn I had practically grown up in, I settled in my seat and shoved my headphones in my ears. I set my iPod on shuffle, and smiled as familiar indie-alternative music blasted into my ears.
Today was dawning gray and rainy, and the heat of the truck and the vibration of the engine lulled me into a light sleep.
"Hey, we're five minutes away," Mom said, shaking my shoulder gently. I blinked groggily, glancing out the window. It was slightly overcast in the beautiful Connecticut countryside, but the sun poked defiantly out from the clouds.
"Wow…I can't believe I'm actually going…" I mused. The application process for this extremely prestigious school - in both academics as well as riding - had not been stress-free. But it had definitely paid off.
"I can. You're smart, and a very talented rider. Don't degrade yourself, Elizabeth," Mom said confidently.
"Thank you," I said awkwardly. It felt strange to accept complements from a woman I had only known for two weeks, even if she was my mother.
The conversation was cut short as we pulled through the elegant wrought iron gates of the academy. Pristine white fencing laced the vibrant green hills, on which sat clusters of buildings, all made from the same fawn colored brick and aged iron. Streetlamps lined the many winding paths that snaked around the property, where people rushed to and fro carrying various luggage.
A tall guy with a buzz cut and freckles walked over to us. "Hello, welcome to Canterwood. I'll just need to see your student ID, please."
"Sure," I replied, pulling the card out of my bag.
He glanced at it, scanning a clipboard. "Elizabeth Wilkes, age fourteen?"
"Yes," I confirmed.
"Okay, you're all set. I assume that you brought your own horse?" He said, eyeing the trailer attached to the back of our truck.
"Yes," I repeated.
"Then you'll want to park over there, by the stable. It's the gravel area with the red cones," he advised, gesturing towards where I assumed was the stables.
"Thank you, have a good day."
We followed his directions and pulled to a stop alongside the huge facility that I assumed to be the stables.
"Can I take your bags?" another older guy asked when we emerged from the truck.
"Yes, please," I said gratefully, eyeing the luggage that sat in the truck.
"What dorm are you in?"
"Uhm…" I fumbled around in my bag for my information packet. Flipping to the rooming information page, I read aloud, "I'm in dorm number 553, Hawthorne Hall."
When he had taken my bags, I walked to the back of the trailer. Unlatching it, I lowered the ramp. Jubilee snorted, pawing the trailer floor impatiently. I laughed, ducking under the metal bar and walking up to her head.
"Hey, we're here now," I murmured. "We've got this."
I untied her and backed the mare out of the trailer. Immediately, Jubilee's head shot up, ears swiveling as she tried to take in all of the sounds at once. Her wide nostrils flared, but in interest rather than fear. She had been to too many shows to be affected by large amounts of activity.
"I'm going to go find her stall," I told my mom, who was still looking around. She nodded vaguely, moving to close up the trailer.
As I entered the stable, I was shocked with the amount of people could fit in the wide aisle ways. Horses were neighing, and the squeals of students seeing each other for the first time since last year rang through the area. I gripped the lead rope tighter, and glanced at my packet.
"Okay, stall number 33…" I edged past a group of girls all wearing breeches and polo shirts, then ducked under some cross ties that contained a bored looking chestnut.
Turning right at the intersection, I escaped some of the buzz of the main section. Finding Jubilee's stall, I slid open the door and led her inside. I sank ankle deep in the plush shavings, and smiled in approval at the automatic water bucket and full hay rack. Sliding the halter over Jubilee's perked ears, I checked her legs for any signs of heat or swelling from the trailer ride. Finding nothing irregular, I retreated from the stall.
Jubilee circled once, twice, then decided she liked the new spacious living arrangement and resorted to munching idly on some hay.
I returned to the truck, where I converted the mess of horse items into an organized stack in my new tack trunk in the tack room. Latching it and walking out of the spacious room, I turned and smacked into a girl who was leading her horse down the aisle.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I apologized profusely.
She smiled at me, showing off perfect teeth. "Don't worry about it! You must be new."
"Oh, yes, is it that obvious?" I asked, cringing.
She laughed. "No, it's just I'm a senior here so I know pretty much everyone around these stables. I'm Carley."
I smiled, relaxing. "Nice to meet you, I'm Elizabeth. I'm a freshman."
"Cool, welcome to Canterwood. Is this your horse?" Carley asked, gesturing to Jubilee.
I nodded. "Yeah, this is Jubilee."
"I like that name, it sounds very happy," Carley commented with a smile.
"It does, but actually she's named after a Marvel super heroine," I said, then winced. "Ugh, that sounded waay less dorky in my head."
"No, that's cool! This is On The Rox, or Roxy," she introduced the big black mare she was leading.
"She's gorgeous, Warmblood I'm guessing?" I asked, glancing at the horse's muscular frame.
"Carles!" Someone squealed from down the aisle. Carley waved, then turned to me.
"Hey, I'm gonna have to catch you later. It was nice meeting you Elizabeth."
"You too."
She took a few steps, then paused. "Oh! Mr. Connor wants me to tell everyone that there's a short meeting about tryouts at five tonight, and there will be pizza."
"Okay, I'll be there," I said, a smile creasing my lips.
I gave Jubilee a final pat, then re-emerged into the mid-morning sunshine. Flipping open my packet again, I turned to the page that contained the campus map.
"Okay, so Hawthorne should be behind the stable, on the left path…" I murmured to myself, tracing my desired path with my finger.
In a few minutes' time, I had arrived at an intimidating brick building with 'Hawthorne Hall' spelled out in iron castings across the front. I climbed the concrete steps, swinging open the black double doors nervously.
Inside, modern soft while lights illuminated dark polished floors and crisp eggshell walls. The dorm lobby had a maintenance closet to the left, a door labeled 'Dorm Monitor' to the right, and continued straightforward to where I assumed was the common room and dormitories.
I walked over to the dorm monitor's door and knocked timidly.
"Come in!" came a flustered sounding voice. I opened the door to a young woman with a dark brown pixie cut. She glanced up from her shuffling of papers, brown eyes flickering over me for a split second before returning to her work. "Can I help you, miss?"
I cleared my throat. "Yes, I'm new here and was under the impression that I had to check in with you before going to my dorm."
"Name, please?"
"Elizabeth Wilkes."
"Oh, Wilkes, yes, your mother already checked in and got your key. You'll find her in your dorm, which I assume you know. We're having a short dorm meeting at eight tonight, and I'll explain everything else there," she explained. "I'm Ana, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, and thanks," I replied, exiting and leaving Ana to her work. I followed the hallway into the common room. It was spacious and more open than the lobby, with high paneled glass windows that allowed natural sunlight to fill the room. White and black furniture surrounded a TV and fireplace, and a granite island and kitchen area sat to the left.
A door on the other side of the room led to a bathroom, and towards the back of the common room were two sets of stairs, both winding upwards to meet on the first floor.
I climbed quickly up the empty staircase, boots clicking on the pristine iron. Glancing again at my rooming information, I counted down the rooms. "559...557...555...553!"
The white door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open. Once inside, I gasped. There was a main room, with a black leather L - shaped couch, coffee table, and two comfortable looking armchairs. Parallel to the furnishings was a large TV mounted on the wall. A huge window overlooking the stables and, farther away, the lake, allowed sunlight to filter through its spotless glass panels.
A door led off to what I supposed was the bathroom, which upon further inspection revealed a shower and double sinks with separate mirrors that opened into cabinets, where my mom had already taken liberty to stocking with my toiletries.
I wandered into the left bedroom, where my mom sat amongst my still packed luggage. I breathed a sigh of relief; I was very particular when it came to spatial organization of my personal belongings.
Mom smiled when she saw me in the doorway. "I figured I'd let you unpack."
"Thanks, for everything," I said quietly, knowing she would recognize the double meaning behind my words or gratitude.
Mom walked over and folded me into a tight embrace, which I returned after a moment's hesitation.
"You're welcome," she said, and I could tell she was fighting back tears.
"This place really is perfect for you, Elizabeth. You're going to have such a great time."
"I hope so," I whispered, feeling a twinge of what could only be described as homesickness…but for what?
"Call or text or email or whatever you kids do these days whenever you want, if you want to," Mom said, picking up her purse and shouldering it.
"I will, tell Warren hello for me," I replied, trailing after her to the door.
"I will honey. I…I love you." When I didn't respond, she sighed. "Too soon."
I paused, hazel eyes flickering to the floor, the wall, anywhere but my mom's put out looking expression.
"Bye," she said softly, turning and disappearing down the hall.
"Bye…" I echoed.
With a heavy sigh, I turned back to my room. I had a lot of unpacking to do.
Forty minutes later, I sat back on the balls of my feet and surveyed my work. My bed, which was shoved against the wall in the corner of the room parallel to the entrance, was freshly made with a fluffy white comforter and navy sheets and assorted pillows.
Along the wall was my desk, where new binders and notebooks sat awaiting use next to my asleep laptop. Above the desk was a pinboard that was covered in photos. Most of them were of Jubilee and I at different shows, and the rest were just random artistic shots I had taken.
All of my clothes were hung in the spacious closet, and the fuzzy black rug sat on the polished wood floor. A tall silver lamp emitted a soft glow, which was unnecessary due to the strong light coming in through the window. A blue-cushioned window seat was embedded in the wall with a stunning view of campus, under which was a cubby.
I pulled my box labeled 'Books' in my slanted handwriting towards me and stacked the titles into the compartment. Of course, I had brought the entire Harry Potter series. Next came several titles by John Green, including my favorite, The Fault In Our Stars. After the Hunger Games trilogy, The Glass Castle, and several other books, I pulled out the last one, a skinny green title with a black and white photograph in the upper corner. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, my all time favorite book.
I stacked the empty cardboard boxes in the closet, plugged my phone in next to the silver alarm clock on my bedside table, and left the room.
Suddenly, I heard raised voices from the hallway.
"Oh, miGod. Just because our parents are married does not mean I am going to room with this freak! I specifically told the faculty I was to room with Lana, last semester. So why, exactly, does my schedule say otherwise?"
Lana…why did that name ring a bell?
My question was answered when a girl with white-blonde hair, tan skin, and a somewhat drooping complexion shoved open the door.
Lana Donahue. My roommate.
I smiled, walking over. "Hi, I'm-"
She gave me a withering glance, icy eyes stopping me short. "Save it. I'm just coming to get my stuff."
"But aren't you my-"
"Roommate?" She sneered. "Um, yeah, not anymore. There was a mix up."
"Oh…" I said as she disappeared into her room. I couldn't feel but slightly relieved. She did not seem like someone I would be friends with.
Wordlessly, she dragged her (designer) bags out into the hallway. Seconds later, a frustrated looking Ana poked her head in.
"What was that all about?" I asked.
She heaved a sigh. "Jenna Harrington apparently does not room with her stepsister. I hope you don't mind, but you two have swapped roommates. Jamison Collier will be sharing a room with you."
Great. I get her stepsister. I groaned internally, but smiled nonetheless.
A taller girl walked in, chestnut colored hair braided over her shoulder. Freckles were smattered across her nose, and her brown eyes were friendly as they met mine.
"So, I'm sure you're extremely disappointed not to get that sparkling little gem of personality as your roommate, but hopefully I'll do," she said sarcastically.
I cracked a grin. "Oh yeah, I dunno how you're gonna compete with her."
She smiled, extending a hand. "I'm Jamison, but that name makes me want to puke, so please just call me Jamie."
"I'm Elizabeth, nice to meet you," I shook her hand, noticing a leather bracelet similar to mine. "So you ride too?" I asked, nodding at the bracelet.
"Of course! My horse's name is Wallstreet, or Wally. He's a Quarter Horse/Thoroughbred. What about you?"
"My mare's name is Jubilee, she's a Connemara/Thoroughbred."
"Awesome! I'm glad I have a roommate who won't snap at me about how dirty I get after going to the stables."
"I can guarantee you I'll be worse than you," I laughed.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. You coming to that meeting later?"
"Yeah, some girl named Carley told me about it earlier."
"Me too. Well I guess I should unpack my stuff, have you gotten your schedule checked yet?"
"No, but I guess I will go do that now."
"Yeah, just go to the Administration building. You want to meet up after and go to the meeting together?"
"Sure! Here, let me get my phone and I'll text you when I'm done."
After exchanging numbers, I exited the dorm and walked down the winding path to the Administrations building…or so I thought, until I realized I didn't exactly know where the Administrations building was.
"Great." I muttered to myself.
"Hey, do you need help finding something?"
I turned to see a tall, lanky boy with shaggy light brown hair and glasses. But they didn't make him look dorky, he actually looked cute in them.
"Yes, actually. I'm supposed to check my schedule at the Administrations building, but I have no clue where to go." I explained, blushing at how dumb I sounded.
The guy smiled, blue eyes crinkling at the corners in a really cute way. "That's where I'm going too. Come on, we can go together."
I smiled, falling into step next to him.
"I'm Charlie, by the way. Charlie Bates."
"I'm Elizabeth Wilkes," I replied.
"Nice to meet you. So, judging by the fact that you're about as far from the Administrations building as you can get, you're new here?"
I laughed. "Of course I would be all the way across campus. Yes, I am a freshman."
"So am I, but I've been going here since 7th grade. It really is a great academy."
"It definitely lives up to the reputation," I remarked, glancing around.
"It does," Charlie nodded. "So, did you come here for solely academics, or sports too?"
"The riding program," I blushed again as he grinned at me.
"Of course, that's what about ¾ of the kids are here for. I'm into basketball and cross country running, though."
"Ooh, you're a distance runner too?" I smiled in approval. "I don't think I can be on Canterwood's team since riding, but back home that was what I did all the time."
"That's awesome! We should run together sometime, you know, if you want to, or something…" Charlie said awkwardly, turning pink.
I blushed in response. "I'd like that."
"But, you know, I'd totally smoke you." Charlie said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, is that so?" I gasped. "We'll see if your stride's as big as your ego, Bates."
"We shall see," he said in a funny accent. We both erupted into laughter that lasted all the way to the Administrations building. Together, we climbed the steps and entered the chilly building.
"You can go," he said, gesturing to the door.
"What a gentleman," I teased.
"Wait, first, what's your number?" Charlie asked, taking out his phone. "Y'know, so we can set up a time for me to beat you."
"Try to beat me, you mean," I said, entering my number into an empty contact slot, feeling butterflies erupt in my stomach. I handed him back his phone, and the butterflies became vicious as our hands brushed briefly.
"No, I mean beat you." Charlie grinned. "Now stop protesting your futile argument and go get your schedule, Wilkes."
I stuck my tongue out at him, making a face, but entered the office anyway.
After twenty minutes, my schedule was set up. Five different classes a day that alternated throughout the first four days of the week, then a shortened schedule that included all ten on Fridays.
When I returned to the small waiting area, Charlie was gone. I pulled out my phone and clicked it, revealing the date and time. Saturday, September 7th, 1:54 PM.
I had a good three hours before the riding team meeting, so I decided to grab something to eat and explore campus.
The cafeteria was a big, high-ceilinged room with two buffet lines and several vending machines. Circular and rectangular tables covered the tiled floor, and sunlight filtered in through massive skylights. I grabbed a tray and placed a pack of trail mix and an apple on it, swiping my student ID card in the self-serving register.
Ditching the tray, I left the cafeteria and set off down the path. I saw a cute little coffee shop called the Sweet Shoppe, with cozy booths and glass windows, with a chalkboard outside the door advertising the latest seasonal treat in neon lettering.
Next was the library, a spacious brick building with winding staircases that ascended the five floors of the library. Tables and chairs for studying were already covered in deserted papers and pens. I felt a twinge of nerves, remembering how rigorous the academics here were.
After seeing the media center, a pizza parlor called the Slice, and several other equally wonderful destinations, I returned to the dorm.
Inside our room, Jamie was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the coffee table, painting her nails. When she saw me, a smile lit up her face.
"Hey! I was about to text you, I just finished my room like, five minutes ago."
"Ooh, can I see?" I asked. Screwing the lid back on the container of blue polish, Jamie nodded enthusiastically.
"Of course!"
Jamie's room was quite different from mine. The violet color scheme created an edgy feel, and she had attached black beads to the doorframe that I instantly wanted.
I stopped dead in the doorway, where a cluster of posters caught my eye.
"Ohmigod no way. You like Toad the Wet Sprocket too? And the Gin Blossoms? And the Killers and-"
I was cut off my Jamie's spontaneous hug. She held me at arm's length and pretended to cry tears of joy.
"Elizabeth, thank you! Someone who appreciates good music. I cannot tell you how badly I wanted to kill my last roommate. She was one of those crazed One Direction fans…" she shuddered dramatically. "It was horrible!"
I laughed. "I bet! But that is so awesome, we can have dorky jam sessions!"
"You know it! But that will have to wait, because the meeting's in ten minutes!" she exclaimed, glancing at her clock.
"Yikes, how bad would it be if Mr. Connor's first impression of us was being late to the very first meeting?" I cringed. Jamie nodded her agreement and followed me out the door.
We arrived at the stable with five minutes to spare.
"So where's Wally's stall?" I asked.
"It's number 28, so down here," Jamie replied, gesturing to the same aisle as Jubilee's stall.
I grinned. "Yay! Jubilee's in number 33, so we're pretty close."
I followed Jamie to a stall sporting a golden nameplate that read "Wallstreet, owned by Jamison Collier" and peered inside. Wally was a huge, well muscled chestnut gelding, with hind socks and a broad blaze running down his face.
"Oh Jamie, he's adorable!" I exclaimed as the horse blew into my cupped hands in a friendly way.
Jamie twisted his forelock around her fingers. "Ehh, he's okay," she said affectionately. As if he understood her words, Wally turned his head to look dubiously at her. We both laughed at his expression.
"So, I must meet the lovely Jubilee," Jamie told me.
"Right this way, ma'am," I said, walking over to Jubilee's stall. The dark bay mare looked small in comparison to Wally, who had to be at least seventeen hands.
"She's gorgeous! She had that athletic Thoroughbred build but the Connemara made her less lean, she looks like a really good natural jumper," Jamie commented. A warm feeling spread through my chest; anyone who complimented my horse automatically gained my respect.
"Thanks so much, she really is. We do eventing, level five in show jumping," I responded, stroking my mare's funny little blaze. Jubilee closed her eyes at my touch, ears relaxed.
Our conversation was ended by a booming voice that I assumed to be Mr. Connor's.
"Alright everyone, the meeting will be held in the skybox of the indoor arena!"
Jamie and I filed after the other riders up the steps, emerging in the huge glass skybox. Bleacher-like wooden steps were filled with the other riders, and the three tables were dominated by stacked pizza boxes.
A tall, lean man with salt-and-pepper hair and tanned skin stood at the front of the room, clipboard in hand. Nerves fluttered in my stomach: so this was the famous Mr. Connor.
Grabbing a plate and a slice of mushroom pizza (yum!), I sat next to a pretty girl with wavy dark chocolate brown hair. Brushing her bangs out of her dark eyes, the girl smiled at me.
"Hey, I'm Natalie," she said.
I smiled in return. "I'm Elizabeth, nice to meet you."
"So is this your first year here too?" she asked, glancing around the room as the chatter of the other riders filled the air. I nodded, biting my lip.
"Intimidating, huh?"
"Definitely. Especially the riding tryouts. Eek!"
"I couldn't agree more, I'm super nervous. Do you have your own horse?"
Natalie nodded, eyes brightening. "Yup, his name's Lancelot. He's 7/8 Irish Sport Horse, 1/8 stupidity," she giggled.
I laughed at her remark. "My mare's name is Jubilee, she's a Thoroughbred/Connemara."
"Awh, I bet she's really cute," Natalie said genuinely. "We should totally ride together sometime."
"Definitely. Here, add your number," I said, handing her my phone. We exchanged numbers then finished our pizza.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let's quiet down so we can start this meeting," Mr. Connor began. The room fell silent. "First, I would like to extend on behalf of the entire faculty my welcome and congratulations. But, you aren't in the clear yet," he chuckled, but I only felt another sharp twinge of nerves.
"Tryouts will begin at 9 a.m. next Saturday, so you have a week to practice. There are three teams, the Beginner team, the Intermediate team, and the Advanced team. Please, once I make my decision, do not argue with it. Any pestering I receive about team placements will result in team disqualification. Am I clear?"
He stared intently at a girl with straight jet black hair, whose narrow face revealed only haughty disinterest. When she followed my gaze, Jamie nudged my arm.
"That's Jenna Harrington, my evil stepsister," she whispered, half-joking. "She thinks she's above everyone else just because she has a crap ton of money, a fancy horse, and made the Advanced team."
I hesitated. "Well, if she's your stepsister, don't you guys have equal amounts of money?"
Jamie's eyes darkened. "I would never take any of that brat's money, even if I was starving. My mom may have changed her last name, but I will never be a part of that family."
I nodded. Family life was apparently a touchy subject.
"I'm sorry Jamie, I shouldn't have brought it up," I apologized, hoping I hadn't ruined any chances of a friendship.
She smiled, sunny expression returning. "Don't worry about it, you didn't know. You're probably used to just having a normal family and it was an innocent question."
I chewed my lower lip. "…yeah. Normal family."
After the meeting, Natalie headed to Orchard and Jamie and I trudged back up to Hawthorne.
We decided to change into PJ's for the dorm meeting. I threw on a simple white camisole tank and pink sweat pants, over which I pulled on a massive grey hoodie. Jamie wore red and white pajama pants and a white long sleeved shirt.
We padded down the stairs for the freshman dorm meeting. There were only about twenty girls in the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were all in the same boat as I was.
Ana stood at the front of the room, and began speaking as Jamie and I snagged seats on the couch.
"Alright girls, I won't drag this out. I'm sure you're all eager to get back to your rooms," she said with a smile.
"First, no unauthorized fire, weapons, or otherwise dangerously categorized items in the dorm, ever. Curfew is 10, 11 on weekends. And, absolutely NO boys in the dorms."
Ana listed a few more generic rules, then bid us goodnight. Back in our rooms, Jamie and I lounged on the couch, listlessly flipping through channels on the television.
"Urgh, there's nothing on," Jamie groaned, turning off the TV. "Let's get to know each other better, twenty questions?"
"Sounds good," I agreed.
"Alright, full name?"
"Elizabeth Archer Wilkes," I rattled, rolling my eyes at my middle name. "You?"
"Jamison Marie Collier. Bleh, so plain," Jamie made a face.
"No, I like it," I said. "Uhh, favorite TV show?"
"I love crime shows like NCIS, but also Parks and Rec."
"I gotta say, my favorite is probably Friends," I laughed.
"I love Friends, Phoebe is so me," Jamie grinned.
"I love Ross, 'I bruise like a peach!'" I imitated, earning laughter from Jamie.
We continued easy chatter, until Jamie asked, "Okay, so, what's your home life like? Obviously, my parents are divorced and my mom's married to the father of spawn of Satan herself, Jenna."
I froze. Canterwood was supposed to be a fresh start. Nobody knew anything about my past. "I, uhm, well, I live with my parents, and my brother," I lied through my teeth.
"Oh, it must be nice, to have a stable home. I can't tell you how much stuff I've lost having to go from house to house. My parents are obsessed with this whole idea of 'equal custody'," Jamie said.
"Yeah, I guess it is," I said, voice shaking. I nervously played with the curl that seemed to never stay out of my face. Even the tiniest lie stressed me out, so this was eating me alive.
Jamie yawned. "Well, I got up early and I assume you did too, so you wanna go to sleep now?"
I nodded, grateful that the conversation could end. We brushed our teeth and retreated to our separate rooms.
Under my warm comforter, I stared guiltily at the wall. What good would a friendship be if it was built on lies?
Due to my churning stomach and guilty conscience, it was a long time before I finally sank into a restless sleep.
A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the mediocre first chapter, I had written this a while ago and didn't feel like revising. Plus, my brain is dead from exams. :P I'll probably end up redoing it sometime later. But, what do you guys think? I want criticism, good and bad!