Scandals, Rumors, Lies
SCANDALS,
RUMORS, LIES
Other books in the
CANTERWOOD CREST SERIES:
TAKE THE REINS
CHASING BLUE
BEHIND THE BIT
TRIPLE FAULT
BEST ENEMIES
LITTLE WHITE LIES
RIVAL REVENGE
HOME SWEET DRAMA
CITY SECRETS
ELITE AMBITION
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN M!X
Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Aladdin M!X edition November 2010
Copyright © 2010 by Jessica Burkhart
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
ALADDIN M!X and related logo are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Designed by Jessica Handelman
The text of this book was set in Venetian 301 BT.
Manufactured in the United States of America 1010 OFF
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Control Number 2010911662
ISBN 978-1-4424-0384-0
ISBN 978-1-4424-0385-7 (eBook)
To Team Canterwood for supporting the series! Best. Readers. Ever.
xoxo
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to everyone at Simon & Schuster, including Bethany Buck, Fiona Simpson (my fave Gleek), Liesa Abrams, Venessa Williams (*bows to Venessa’s marketing genius*), Mara Anastas, Lucille Rettino, Bess Braswell (miss you!), Katherine Devendorf, Ellen Chan, Alyson Heller, Jessica Handelman, Karin Paprocki, Russell Gordon, Dayna Evans, and my fabulous copyeditor, Valerie Shea, who is both fabulous and ever-ready :).
Kate Angelella, I’d never worked with anyone but you on these books. Diva move, but whatev. ;) The series wouldn’t be close to what it is without your Edits of Sparkle, side notes that make me LOL, and serious dedication that you devote to Canterwood.
Ross, two words—Denny Crane.
Jinny Caswell, the scones and funny cat cards fueled my writing. Much love!
Hugs to the amazing readers who keep me going during the final stretch of pages. Special hearts to the guys who have e-mailed to chat about Canterwood—it means a lot to hear from you!
Thanks to Bonne Bell for giving Sasha an endless supply of fave lip glosses.
Thanks so much to all my writer friends who offer support and encouragement. Twhirl has to be on when I write, and Tweets from Mandy Morgan, Maggie Stiefvater, Bri, Becca Leach, Lauren Barnholdt, the Canterwood cast, Melissa Walker, Kate Brian, Ally Carter, Ellen Hopkins, and Becca Fitzpatrick always keep me entertained.
K … by the time SRL is out, all of this will be far behind us and it’ll be time to add to your line-art collection. And mine, too. YAMG. LYSM. <3
DECISIONS, DECISIONS
ONE BOX TO GO.
I kneeled in front of a cardboard box that I’d shoved in the corner of Brit’s—well, our—room. It was the only box left to open after I’d moved into Orchard Hall two weeks ago. I stared at the scissors in my hand, clenching them and waiting for the chest crush to come when I thought about how I’d moved out of my old room. The space I’d shared with my ex(?)–best friend and roommate, Paige Parker.
But, instead, the sadness was only a twinge. Fourteen days wasn’t enough for us to even begin to reevaluate our friendship, but it was enough to allow me to realize that I liked living with Brit.
And I was ready to unpack the last box and make this room completely mine, too.
I slid the scissors along the tape at the top of the box and pulled out summer clothes that I hadn’t needed to unpack right away since it was mid-October. The tank tops, shorts, and T-shirts fit into the top drawer that Brit had cleared out for me in our dark wooden dresser. I slid the drawer closed and stood back, hands on my hips, surveying the room as mine for the first time since I’d moved in.
The room was bigger than my old one and had glossy hardwood floors, a whiteboard with notes written in neon-colored markers, and soft cream-colored eyelet curtains that swayed gently in the breeze through the slightly open windows. Above the window panes, Brit had twinkly star-shaped lights that made the coziest shadows at night. My feet sank into the pink plush carpet and I sat down on my desk chair.
A key turned in the doorknob and Brit, carrying a FedEx box, stepped inside. She looked every inch runway-ready in her tall black boots with skinny jeans tucked into them and a ribbed, plum-colored V-neck sweater. She may have looked it, but Brit wasn’t from New York City like many of the students at Canterwood Crest—she was a small-town girl like me. A fact that had definitely fast-tracked our bond.
“Hey, Sash,” she said. Her smile brightened her almond-shaped eyes when she looked at me. Her glossy, long black hair was in a side braid.
“Hey, looks like you got the box you were waiting for,” I said.
“Yep!” Brit put the box on the floor, nodding. “My parents got us Halloween decorations for our room. Stephanie had them in her office and I almost ripped the box out of her hands.”
I laughed, pulling my light brown hair into a loose ponytail. “Halloween is our favorite holiday.”
“And hello—it’s in two weeks!” Brit brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Since it is a Sunday and all of our homework is done, want to decorate?”
“Hmmm …” I pretended to think about it. “Yes!”
Brit and I kneeled on the floor beside the box and she sliced it open. She pulled out a layer of black and orange tissue paper. Plastic spider confetti sprinkled onto the carpet and we giggled. A note was under the layer of paper.
Brit—Happy Halloween! Dad and I hope you and your new roommate like the decorations. We miss you! Xoxo, Mom and Dad
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” Brit said. She reached into the box and started handing me items. There was a giant cardboard cutout skeleton to hang on our door, a set of plastic tombstones with funny names like “Barry A. Live,” “Reed N. Weep,” and “Otta B. Alive.” There were two pairs of fake wax fangs and a giant bagful of mixed gum and candy bars. I wanted to dive into the orange M&M’s immediately.
Brit handed me a giant rubber spider with an orange sticker that said SQUEEZE ME! on its stomach. I did, making it squeak. Brit and I laughed. I looked at the spider, unable to either stop the flashbacks to last Halloween or stop thinking about how different things were now. Last year, Callie, my ex-BFF, and I had been dressing miniature horses up in costumes for a charity auction. Paige, my other BFF, and I had spent days leading up to Halloween watching funny-slash-scaryish (read: no blood!) Halloween movies and eating a ton of candy corn. This year, well, Callie hadn’t been a part of my life for a while and that had been painful enough. But now, with the possibility of losing Paige completely, there were moments when I didn’t know what to do. But having Brit definitely made things easier.
“Sash, isn’t this cool?” Brit handed me a sheet of vinyl window decals. They had jack-o’-lanterns with different faces—some creepy, some silly—plus bats, ghosts, black cats, and a few stars.
“These are so fun. They’re going to look great.”
Brit got up and plugged in a pumpkin that looked real. She pushed a button on the cord and a warm glow came out of its eyes, mouth, and nose. It looked perfect on our small end table.
“Love it,” I said. “I’m going to start the window clings.”
I took a sheet from Brit and pulled up the blinds, letting sunshine filter through the glass. Standing back, I stared at the window, deciding where to place each cling. This was obviously very serious. A laughing ghost fit at the corner of the window, angled and looking just right.
Brit and I spent another hour arranging the decorations exactly as we wanted them. We laughed and chatted the entire time as if we’d been BFFs our whole lives. Some days, I’d questioned the decision to move out of my room with Paige and there had been nights that I’d been awake for hours wondering if I’d made the right decision. But now, looking over at Brit and feeling comfortable and stress-free in my own space, I knew I’d made the right decision.
“And I think we’re done,” Brit said. She stepped back and surveyed the room, hands on her hips.
“I think you’re right!”
The room was spectacularly spooky with orange, black, and silver in every corner.
I stood, a slight chill making me shiver, and thought about how different this Halloween was going to be from last year.
THINGS ARE GOOD
I PULLED ON MY GRAY V-NECK CASHMERE sweater and snuggled into the warm fabric. I wanted to ignore the slight rumble in my stomach, but it was time for dinner. Every dinner, every class still made me feel … confused. There was the yummy possibility of seeing Jacob Schwartz, my now official boyfriend, but there was also the chance of running into Paige or—even worse—Callie.
“Ready?” Brit asked. She tugged on a pair of black ankle boots over her skinny jeans.
I nodded, my mouth a little dry. Callie and I had spent an extremely uneasy two weeks passing each other in the Orchard hallway, sharing classes and eyeing each other in the caf.
Brit studied me. She’d most likely seen this look on my face often enough to know what was wrong. “Sash, it’s okay. You’re allowed to go out. If you run into Callie and she does want to talk about your birthday party, it’ll probably make things easier. But she hasn’t said a word to you yet, so I really doubt she’s going to bring it up right now.”
I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I don’t think she’s ready to talk.” Maybe she’ll never talk to me again, I thought.
“It’s time to stop hiding,” Brit said. “You live here, we’re roommates, Jacob’s been amazing, and you’ve got Charm. Things are good.” She smiled, running a brush through her enviably silky black hair. Her almond eyes were a dark brown that complemented her smooth, coffee-colored skin tone. “The Callie sitch will work out. Promise.”
“You’re right.” I thought about what she said, letting the words sink in. “Things are good.”
I slipped my feet into studded black ballet flats and followed Brit out of our room. We closed the door behind us, the wreath of black bats and silver moons lifting my spirits.
“No one else has decorated yet,” Brit said as we walked down Orchard’s hallway. I loved the cranberry-colored walls that made it feel more like fall than ever. All of the doors had posters, GO CANTERWOOD CREST ACADEMY flags, or whiteboards. The two-story brick building felt more and more like home every day. We passed the common room, with the gas fireplace blazing. Several of the other Orchard residents studied on the cream-colored couches or the leather recliners. Soon, that would be Brit and me. Canterwood, notorious for tough teachers and insane amounts of homework, would keep us with our books open almost every minute we weren’t riding.
Brit pulled out her purple-encased BlackBerry. “Heather just texted me. The Trio’s on their way to dinner. Want to sit with them?”
“Definitely,” I said. “I know Jacob’s at football practice right now, so he won’t be there.”
Just saying his name made me smile. It gave me that supercliché butterfly feeling.
“Oooh,” Brit teased, elbowing me. “Someone’s thinking about her boyfriend. Are you imagining kissing him in the courtyard under the moonlight?”
I blushed, laughing. “No! Okay, well, maybe now I am.”
We giggled and pushed open the glass doors.
The mid-October air was crisp and chilly and I linked arms with Brit for warmth. We walked down the swept, winding sidewalk toward the cafeteria. I’d always had the hardest time deciding if campus was more stunning during fall or winter, but right now, I couldn’t stop admiring what was around me.
As a scared seventh grader over a year ago, when I’d first looked at the campus, I’d felt as if I hadn’t belonged here. It was as though Canterwood’s reputation for not only being a top-notch East Coast boarding school with rigorous academics but also a school known for having a tough equestrian program had made it a place where I shouldn’t have been allowed. The small-town girl in me had been overwhelmed by the prestige of the school. I looked over at Brit, watching her look around at the other students milling around the courtyard and heading to dinner.
Brit Chan.
No one would ever be able to tell that she, too, was from a tiny town.
“Hey, Brit,” a strawberry-blond girl called.
And there it was.
Unlike my transition, hers had been seamless and she’d become the new It Girl without being mean or vindictive or two-faced girl.
Brit waved back, now having the attention of people sitting on stone benches as we approached. Brit was dangerously close to dethroning the queen of our eighth grade—Heather Fox—and I couldn’t even begin to guess what a change in regime would mean for our school.
Brit and I kept walking up the sidewalk and I stared ahead, trying not to notice the younger students staring with wide eyes at Brit. Giant trees had dropped most of their orange, red, and yellow leaves, covering the still-green cropped grass. Black iron lampposts lit the darkening walk to the caf and warm lights glowed from different buildings.
“I’m starving,” Brit said, pulling open one of the caf’s heavy doors.
“Me too.”
When we reached the enormous cafeteria, as I’d been doing since my blowout with Paige, I scanned the room before entering.
Whew. I didn’t see Callie or Paige.
“Are you planning on moving or have you decided to become a permanent roadblock?”
I jumped, turning at the sound of Heather’s voice. Her two BFFs, Julia Myer and Alison Robb, flanked her. The girls smirked.
“You got me,” I said. “I decided to just stand here and have my food delivered.”
That made Alison smile. Her sandy brown hair was in soft curls and she looked ready for a dinner party instead of a regular Sunday night dinner. She wore thigh-high, camel-colored boots with a matching skirt, sheer tights, and a soft-looking white sweater.
“Let’s grab food before we starve while listening to your ‘jokes’,” Heather said, making air quotes.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop my smile. Heather’s biting attitude was nothing new. Plus, we’d become friends since I’d stayed with her during fall break. I’d chosen to stay in Heather’s Park Avenue penthouse instead of going home with Paige as I’d originally planned. And now I was still learning how to handle the fallout.
In the line, the five of us grabbed silver trays and got them loaded with steaming rosemary chicken and rice. In the dessert section, I took a small plate and placed a red velvet cupcake on it. The rest of the girls took cupcakes or tarts.
We took our usual table and I sat across from Brit and next to Julia. Even though the cafeteria wasn’t one of my top ten places to be right now because of my situation, I still loved being her
e. The tables—a mix of circular and rectangles—were angled differently throughout the room. My fave part was the giant bay window that gave a spectacular view of campus. Since the caf building was on an incline, it was a great spot to observe all of the activities going on around campus. But with the Trio and Brit, the most interesting part of the campus was what was going on at our table.
“How’s Apollo’s hoof?” Julia asked. She tucked a piece of her now-longer blond bob behind her ears, and picked up her fork.
Brit smiled at the sound of her horse’s name. She’d only been leasing the gray gelding for about six months, but they looked as if they’d been together since Apollo had been broken.
“It’s totally healed,” Brit said. “I’m still being careful with him and we’re not doing anything too rigorous. But Mr. Conner said the vet’s coming tomorrow to give him another checkup and, hopefully, clear us to get back to a regular training schedule.”
“Alison and I have to get more time in the arena,” Julia said. “I mean, I guess we got lucky that Mr. Nicholson got sick and couldn’t make our YENT testing two weeks ago, but …
“Now we’ve got an extra two weeks to worry,” she finished. She shoved rice around on her plate. She never acted worried about riding. But the YENT, or Youth Equestrian National Team, was the goal for every rider at Canterwood who dreamed of making it big on the show circuit—maybe even to the Olympics.
“We’d already have either been on the team or been told ‘no’ a long time ago if Jasmine hadn’t been involved,” Alison said, making a face.
I almost shivered depsite my warm clothes. Jasmine King, a former Wellington Prep student, had transferred to Canterwood—set to take out the Trio, Callie, and me. Jas had framed Julia and Alison, making it seem as if they’d cheated on a history exam. Thanks to Jasmine, they’d been kicked off the riding team and had missed their chance at the YENT. But their chance was coming. In two weeks.
“Enough talk about that Wellington witch,” Heather said, rolling her blue eyes. She’d dusted shimmery white powder in the corners of her eyes and it made her look even more tan—despite the fact that it was October.