Initiation (7 page)

Ana: Mwah! Ttyvs!

Lauren: VVS!

I locked my phone, shoving it back in my pocket.

I hadn't said anything to Ana, but I felt a little down that I
hadn't
heard from Brielle or Taylor. I
could
message them, but I was the one who'd left and I didn't want to seem like a baby, like I was already homesick. Even though . . .
technically
. . . I might have been feeling a tiny bit sick. For . . . home-type things. I took a deep breath. They'd write soon.

They were just as busy as I was. Brielle was probably at the mall—her arms filled with piles of clothes—and Taylor was probably . . . no, definitely . . . in his pool, swimming laps. They weren't going to disappear just because I'd switched schools.

“Hey,” Khloe said, catching me off guard. “Want to go make some tea?”

Homey relief rushed through me.
A cup of honey vanilla chamomile tea is exactly what I need,
I thought. The ingredients always calmed me down.

“That,” I said. “Is the best idea ever.”

I was beginning to realize—new friends could sometimes make you feel just as good as old ones could.

THE COMMON ROOM IN HAWTHORNE LOOKED
like something out of Charlotte's Sarah Lawrence catalog.

A bunch of students were inside, two on a sectional sofa-slash-chaise watching the flat-screen mounted on the pastel purple–painted wall. Others, curled up in recliners, read or texted. The room, which I'd expected to feel institutional, felt warm and inviting.

There were shelves of books and DVDs, a couple of gaming systems and a full kitchen. While I warmed the kettle on the stove, Khloe sat on the counter, talking to one of the girls I'd met this morning. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember her name!

Once I'd finished making the tea, I made my way to Khloe and . . . and . . . ugh! I was going to seem
so
rude
if I made it obvious I didn't know her name. I tried, telepathically, to make Khloe say her name the second I got over to them.

“This looks fun!” Khloe said, taking tea boxes from my hand. “Like we should have a tea party or something.”

What was her name?!

The girl brushed a stray curl out of her face and smiled at me. “I know we met in the frenzy of this morning. But you've probably met a million people today. My name is Lexa Reed. Friend of drama-queen Khloe Kinsella.”

I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Lexa, of course! I'm Lauren Towers. New roommate of drama-queen Khloe Kinsella.”

“Towers—aha! That's why Khlo's been calling you ‘LT,'” said Lexa.

I raised an eyebrow at Khloe.

“That's right,” Khloe said, pointing at me. “You have been nicknamed. I declared it so.”

I looked at Lexa. “I guess I've been nicknamed.” I laughed, not having the heart to tell her people called me “LT” all the time.

Lexa laughed, too. She had an awesome laugh, one of those super infectious laughs, even when no one knows why she's laughing.

“I think,” Lexa said. “that you've been Khloe'd in general.”

“Is that a good thing, being ‘Khloe'd'?” Khloe asked amid all of our laughter. “Or a bad thing?”

“Definitely good,” Lexa said. She squeezed Khloe's hand with hers. “We all need a little Khloe in our lives.”

“Agreed,” I said, raising my hand to vote.

Khloe grinned. She looked very proud of herself. “Oooh! Is the tea ready?” she asked.

I nodded, handing her a mug.

“Want any?” I offered Lexa.

“Thanks! I'd love some,” Lexa said, accepting the mug. “My roommate, Jill, is still unpacking. I could use a break.”

“We really should have a tea party!” Khloe said. She held out her mug, extra daintily. “I've never practiced sipping tea like a lady. Who knows? It might come up in an audition.”

Lexa's eyes met mine. She gave me a
she really
is
like this all the time
look.

“A tea party sounds fabulous,” I said.

“Feel free to choose a tea,” I said, offering Lexa a box filled with an array of my favorite white teas, plus, a couple of black ones.

“Khloe, I made you honey vanilla chamomile and sweetened it with clove honey, like mine. Next time, I'll make you Earl Grey and serve it with Hobnobs so you can practice for your lead in a period drama.”

Lexa's eyes widened. “Hobnobs? You really know your stuff!”

“Seriously?” I asked. “You know what Hobnobs are?”

I'd never met anyone else who knew about the yummy chocolate-coated cookies that were popular in the UK.

“I lived in London for a long time with my family— Hobnobs were my fave!”

Khloe looked at the two of us as though we were aliens. “Why are you guys speaking a weird language?” she asked, taking a tentative sip of her tea. “Oooh! Yum!”

“You look shocked,” I said, holding my hand to my chest in mock offense. “And Hobnobs are these amazing cookies—”

“Covered in chocolate!” Lexa cut in.

“Exactly.” I nodded. “British people serve them with tea.”

“Sounds delish,” Khloe said, sipping her tea again. “And for the record, I'm
impressed
, not shocked.”

Lexa turned to me. “So, I used to live in London, but how did you find out about Hobnobs?”

“Weird language,” Khloe repeated. “But to answer
your question, LT knows about the weird cookies because she knows absolutely everything and
anything
about all things tea.”

I felt my cheeks warm and buried my face in my tea. “Well,” I said between sips, “not
everything.
I mean—”

“She's cute because she's humble,” Khloe teased.

I rolled my eyes at myself and offered the box of tea to Lexa again. Lexa picked up a packet of spearmint tea. “This sounds refreshing. It's so hot outside.”

“That really will cool you down,” I said. “And it's good with ice, too. But I only brought two mugs.”

Khloe opened a cabinet above the microwave and motioned to the shelves as though she were modeling on a game show.

The cabinet was filled top to bottom with mugs. Dragon flies, horses, funny sayings. Green mugs adorned with yellow-gold Canterwood logos.

Lexa took a go Canterwood! mug and opened a drawer next to the stove. It was filled with sugar packets, Sweet'N Low, Sugar In The Raw, and my fave—Splenda. Lexa plucked out two banana-yellow packets of Splenda and shut the drawer with her hip. I unwrapped her bag of spearmint tea and placed it in her mug. She ripped open the two Splendas and poured the contents in. I made
sure no one's fingers were anywhere but the mug handle before pouring the steaming kettle water in last.

“Thanks, Lauren!” Lexa said.

“Now it's an official tea party!” Khloe said. “Let's grab the window seat and chat.”

Lexa and I followed Khloe. The window seat was tucked away from the center of the common room.

We sank into the black cushions, Khloe and I with our backs against the wall and Lexa cross-legged in the middle. The window looked out over the tennis court and outdoor pool. Two of Canterwood's many facilities that I couldn't wait to use.

“So, when did
you
start at Canterwood?” I asked Lexa, gesturing to her with my mug.

“Sixth grade,” she said. “Same year as Khlo. My parents sent me here for the academics, but I came to
ride.
”

“Oh, yay! Another rider!” I grinned. “Did you bring your own horse?”

“Only the love of my life! My mare, Honor,” Lexa said. “You?”

“I've got a mare, too. Her name's Whisper and I just got her over the summer, so we're still getting used to each other. But I totally understand what you mean. I'm already so in love with Whisper. I can't imagine
how I'll feel after we've had a whole year to bond.”

“Whisper's
such
a pretty name,” Lexa said. “I bet our horses are all going to be friends.”

Khloe looked back and forth between us, smiling like she was keeping the juiciest secret ever kept!

“KK, you know you want to spill something,” Lexa said, beating me to it.

“Yeah,” I encouraged. “I don't know all of your tell-tale ‘looks' yet . . . but even
I
can tell you're dying to say something. So I agree with Lexa—spill away.” I smiled to encourage her further.

“It's just . . . tea party love. My new
roomie
and my best
bestie
are bonding.” She fanned her eyes with her right hand, fingers splayed, pretending to fight off tears. “It's a lovefest.”

Lexa rolled her eyes but we were both laughing. “Aaand . . . we can bond
even
more
if we have classes together,” Lexa teased. She half stood, pulling a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans. “Schedules?”

“Mine's in our room,” Khloe said.

“Mine too,” I said.

Khloe set her mug on the table next to her. “I glanced at it, but I don't remember it at all. I'll grab it. Lauren, want me to get yours?”

“Mine's on top of my desk,” I said. “Thank you so much, Khlo.”

Khloe held up her hands in a stop-everything motion. “Did you just say
Khlo
?” she asked.

Oh
no
. My first day and I'd already called my roommate by a name she clearly
hated.

“Omigod, I'm so—”

“I've been LT'd!” Khloe broke in joyously.

“Wait,” I said, heart pounding. “You
liked
when I called you that?”

Lexa broke in as Khloe nodded emphatically. “Way to traumatize your new roommate on day one.” Lexa shook her head.

“How?” Khloe asked. “I got LT'd—she gave me a nickname. That's how we do!”

“Because I like you,” Lexa said to me with a smile. “I'm going to give you a crash course in Khloe 101.”

“I'll take it!” I said. I made a come-here motion with my hands. “Lay it on me.”

“First: never take her too seriously.”

“Got it,” I said.

“Except—and this is rule number two—if you see tears.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Lexa said. “Khloe
never
cries. So if she does, something is
wrong.
And last?”

“Yes?”

“Khloe is the funnest person of anyone I know. You won the roommate lottery.” Lexa smiled kindly. “And from what I can tell, so did she. So
have fun
. This school can get so
serious
. You and KK seem good for each other. Just don't steal her away completely.”

Despite the smile on her face, I detected a hint of seriousness in that one and I took note that Lexa liked people in her circle to share. She was the cutest—and had been nothing but kind to me. But still, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side.

“I'd never steal her,” I promised. “Not that she'd stand for being stolen.”

Lexa laughed. “Sounds like you've got it down. Nah, you don't need my help.”

“Like I said—I take everything I can get,” I said again.

“The way Canterwood lets us set up our schedules is so cool,” I said to Lexa, changing the subject. “At my old school, we had to meet with a guidance counselor who pretty much decided our schedules
for
us based on previous classes and test scores. This way is so much better.”

“It's actually new for seventh graders and above,” Lexa said. “Last year, we had to meet with a guidance counselor too—Ms. Utz, you'll meet her soon enough. She basically helped us decide our schedules. The new system is
so
much easier.”

“I
might
have obsessed about it a teensy bit,” I said, totally understating the degree of my obsession.