Unfriendly Competition (2 page)

Headmistress Drake looked at the Trio. “Your suite.” Then she looked at me. “And your room with Brit Chan.”

“None of us—” Alison started, stopping when Headmistress Drake cut her off with a shake of her head.

“I have proof, Miss Robb. The only reason I did not call Miss Chan here is because she is a new student and does not have the insight on campus that the blogger does. So, there are two options for the four of you.”

I felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach. There was no way one of us had created that dumb gossip blog. The blog that ridiculed the school and made up awful rumors. I hadn't and the Trio was too smart for that.

I glanced at Heather, noticing her eyes were focused to the side for a brief second before she shifted her gaze back to the headmistress.

“You have the choice to step forward and tell me who created the blog,” Headmistress Drake said.

Not one of us moved.

“Or, you will
all
be expelled from Canterwood Crest Academy unless I learn the truth. I'm giving you one week, then I'm telling your parents.”

2

EMERGENCY MEETING

“TEXT BRIT AND TELL HER TO MEET US AT
our suite” were the only words Heather spoke as we walked back to Orchard. Since we'd all been in our final class of the day, Headmistress Drake had told us to go back to our rooms. Meaning: no afternoon riding lesson for us. We'd been sent back to Orchard and the head-mistress said she'd notify Mr. Conner of our absence.

“This is
ridiculous
!” Julia yelled, slamming the Trio's door behind us when we got inside.

Brit, glancing at all of us, had no clue what had happened.

“First, the random accusation and now we can't even go to our lesson today?” Julia continued. “What is she thinking?”

“You can't ride?” Brit asked, still standing near the door. “Why?” Unlike the rest of us, Brit was dressed in breeches, glossy Ariat boots, and a button-down riding shirt.

“Apparently, one of us created the gossip blog,” I told her. “Headmistress Drake said one of us has two weeks to confess or we're
all
going to be expelled.”

Brit couldn't mask the shock on her face. Her dark brown eyes opened wide, and she flipped her long black French braid over her shoulder. “
What?
”

“The tech department traced the blog's IP to our rooms,” I said, flopping on the Trio's couch. “But that's impossible. How could they get that so wrong?”

“If they tracked it to our rooms, why didn't I get called into the office?” Brit asked.

“Newbie card,” Alison said, her cheeks still pink from the cold or embarrassment—I wasn't sure. “The head-mistress thought the blog was too rooted in Canterwood history for someone so new to write it.”

Heather couldn't sit. She paced around the Trio's living room before planting her hands on one of the recliners.

“No one's confessing anything.” She looked at Brit. “And you need to get to the stable. Unlike the rest of us,
you're
still riding today.”

Brit glanced at me. “I don't want to leave when you've got this going on.”

“You have to,” I said. “You don't have an excuse. Go or you'll get in trouble. I'll fill you in when you get back.”

“Okay,” Brit said, finally. She stepped backward toward the door. “I'm so sorry, guys. But we'll figure it out and prove that none of you did it.”

Alison, chewing her cheek, nodded. “I hope so.”

Brit left and it hit me that I wasn't going to see Charm, my Thoroughbred-Belgian gelding, tonight. Sadness turned to anger. I hadn't done anything. Neither had the Trio.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

Heather, who had finally sat down, looked up at me from her cross-legged position on the carpet. Julia kept playing with her phone, and Alison wrapped herself tighter in her pool blue throw blanket.

“I'm
definitely
not going to sit around and hope whoever did it goes to the headmistress,” Heather said. “I've worked
way
too hard to get here. There's not a chance that I'm going to let someone mess with my future, especially when it comes to riding. I'm
not
missing Huntington because some bored, pathetic person decided to spill their guts on the Internet.”

Huntington Stables.
The
Huntington Classic. I'd been so focused on the e-word—expulsion—that I'd forgotten about the biggest, most important event in my career as a rider. My first major horse show as a rider on the Youth Equestrian National Team—the most difficult riding program in the country. If anyone could figure this out, it would be Heather. But that didn't mean I wasn't nervous. If we were expelled, we wouldn't be going to the classic.

And we'd never see Canterwood again.

3

PARTY PLANNERS, INC.

LAZY SATURDAY MORNINGS WERE MY
favorite. Brit was cross-legged on the floor, going through her crazy sock collection.

I peered over my bed, staring at her. “What
are
you looking for?”

Brit shrugged, her attention still on her socks. “Something fun to wear under my black boots.”

She had way more than a dozen pairs of socks—rainbows, hearts, all colors of stripes and polka dots. I loved this about Brit: She dressed like a catalog model, but wore something fun under her jeans or shoes that no one saw. It was an unexpected and cool departure from her überchic outfits.

“I love the red and black striped ones,” I said. “They're so pretty and very fall-like.”

We were both getting ready, slowly, to go to the Trio's suite. Our phones had buzzed at the same minute. It had been a text from Heather. She'd invited Brit and me over to her suite to chill—or, and, as she'd put it in the text, “Get over here 2 plan my epic bday party. Ur already late.”

Brit and I had just shaken our heads then started to get ready. Heather's thirteenth birthday was nothing to mess with. Thirteen was a big deal. And I was sure until
the
date—November tenth—Heather would be making sure she got the blowout she wanted.

Brit pulled on her pair of socks—the red and black ones I'd suggested—and my phone buzzed. BBM.

Jacob Schwartz:

How's ur morning?

I hurried to type back. Just seeing his name pop up on my BBM made me feel all fluttery.

Sasha Silver:

Good! Brit and I r abt 2 go 2 Trio's suite.

Jacob Schwartz:

Why?

Sasha Silver:

Heather invited us over to plan her 13th bday. It's on Weds.

Jacob Schwartz:

Ohhh. Man. Did u ever think *U'd* be planning her bday?

Sasha Silver:

LOL. Um, not rlly. But you know how our friendship has changed, so I'm actually excited. Got to run, but talk later?

Jacob Schwartz:

Def.
Maybe over hot chocolate @ SS?

Sasha Silver:

<3 to. TTYL.

I stopped typing and glanced up. Brit, still on the floor, was grinning up at me.

“That wasn't, oh, I don't know . . . Jacob,” she taunted. “Was it?”

I put my phone in my purse, unable to stop my smile.

“He wanted to know what we were doing,” I said. “I told him about Heather's party. And he wants to meet up tonight.”

Brit stood, pulling on knee-high boots. “Yay! And it's going to be the party of the year. Maybe of the decade. I know I haven't been here long, but I can't imagine there's going to be a party even close to the one that's about to happen this week.”

I smoothed my comfy purple VS Pink yoga pants and put a hoodie over my black shirt that looked as if it had been dusted with fine glitter.

Brit and I left our room and walked to the Trio's
suite. Someone, probably artsy Alison, had decorated the door with fall decorations. A beautiful wreath of bright-colored fall leaves hung above their white board. Above and around the doorway, a string of soft white lights made their suite look fall-ready.

Brit knocked and, seconds later, Julia pulled open the door. She was dressed in riding clothes and there was a look of annoyance—something that had seemed permanent since YENT tryouts—on her face.

“Hey,” Brit and I said, stepping inside. We went for the small couch in their living room and sat down. I loved the Trio's cozy suite. A liquid potpourri holder gave off wafts of pumpkin spice in the air. Like always, the place was spotless and the flat-screen TV was muted on an entertainment channel.

“Hi.” Julia's response was short. She picked up her MacBook Air off the couch, slamming the lid shut. She looked comfy in cropped leggings and an oversize red sweater. “Heather and Alison are grabbing snacks from the common room. They'll be back in a sec.”

“Cool,” I said. “You going riding soon?'

Julia stared at me for a looong time. “Are the non-riding clothes not a big enough hint?”