Eleven months later...

June 10

Toronto, Ontario

I'm wide awake, staring up at the frame of my enormous canopy bed, waiting for my alarm to go off in precisely three hours. I've barely slept. Today is the last day of school before the summer break, and I'm excited, anxious, but desperate for it to be over all at once.

I raise my arms above my head and let them fall back into my fluffy duvet with a dramatic poof.

While I wait for my alarm, I find my mind cycling over the events of the year, in no particular order. I have what you'd call a busy mind. Mum and Dad tease me, saying they can hear the gears turning from downstairs in their bedroom most nights.

It's no joke, though; sometimes my mind spins all night. The only way I can fall asleep is through physical exertion. I need to exhaust myself to the point of collapse.

That's why I'm involved in every sport at school and several outside of it, from swimming to tennis, to competitive horseback riding, which is my true passion, then to rowing.

I also try to go to the club for spinning and pilates classes each week. Anything to take the edge off the endless cycle of thoughts.

I've tried therapy, medication, but nothing seems to calm my busy mind, and the endless breathing exercises my therapist recommends are only a bandaid. Temporary.

Sometimes I wonder if my brain is just a little broken.

Knowing well enough by this time that there is no escape from the buzzing in my mind, resigned to the kaleidoscope of memories and moments looping over and over, I latch onto the individual memories as they wind their way through my active mind. I try to sort them and idly wonder what brings specific memories to the surface.

I've had a fantastic year. Coming back to school last September was so different. Rather than being the 'new girl', I'd come back to friends. For the first time, I had real girlfriends, and I loved it.

At the beginning of school, my parents let me move into our upstairs, third-floor bedroom suite. My grades last year prompted Mum and Dad to reward me with a space of my own, some more privacy.

The first thing I'd done: redecorate. I was happy to be done with the candy pink walls of my old bedroom, a reminder that in life, tastes change, so to be careful what permanent choices you make.

My room is now a pale, soothing grey, accented by crisp white linens, subtle golds, iron, and black pops. The fabrics I've chosen add a French bohemian vibe. Three various sized vintage steamer trunks stacked atop one another make up my bedside table. They're packed to the brim with photos, horse show ribbons, and books.

Closer to the stairs is a small sitting area, where I have a pullout loveseat, also known as Mads' and Jules' bed, and a spacious corner desk with a large iMac.

Since I'd moved upstairs, my best girlfriend Vi, and our two closest friends, Mads, and Jules slept over at least one night each weekend. There's normally at least one of them sleeping in my bed.

Honestly, they have more stuff in my closet than I do, anyway.

I hate clutter; it stresses me out beyond measure, so I have everything tucked away in boxes and decorative baskets. I only have clothes I actually wear in the closet. That's why there's room for the girls. My only weaknesses are the Polaroid pictures strewn about the room haphazardly. I'm completely addicted.

Out of reflex, I sit up to check my alarm clock, four forty-five a.m. I groan, mentally cursing myself for looking at the time. I glance at my bookshelf idly, considering the temptations inside. It's easier to distract myself with a book sometimes, but then I'll never have a chance of sleeping, not even for a few more minutes.

Resigned to my now very early morning, hoping for a miracle that lets me sleep a little longer, I flop back down into the squishy duvet and roll onto my stomach to look at the collage of Polaroids hanging on thin decorative strings next to my bed.

The strings are overloaded with images, and it's looking a bit messy. I need to think of something to do with all these beautiful memories. Asking Hudson to hang additional strings and fairy lights just won't cut it anymore.

But, for now, the smiling faces of my friends soothe my chaotic thoughts and feelings. One section of my wall makes me smile even bigger, as I see all the pictures Hudson rearranged to create a Hudson-centric portion of the gallery. We certainly have no shortage of memories together.

I sigh, accepting that sleep is a distant memory, and throw the blankets aside. I slide into my robe and wander over to my bookshelf to grab the gigantic box I keep my favourite pictures tucked away in.

Grabbing my chunky knit throw blanket, I curl up onto my tufted chaise lounge, adjusting my decorative pillows so I can snuggle into them. I turn on the large reading lamp that stands on the floor but curves gracefully over the back of the chaise. This is my favourite spot to sit and read, or just daydream.

I set the lid aside and dump the box's contents onto the long cushion in front of me, sorting through them at random.

The first picture that grabs my attention is of Vi, Mads, Jules, Hudson, Theo, and me. My closest friends.

At the start of the school year, I'd caved in to the boys' demands and introduced them to my girlfriends. It had been especially exciting since we all attend single-sex schools. The thing about those single-sex connected ecosystems? Most everyone dates one another, so 'fresh meat' as Mads calls my boys, is rare.

I pick my way through the other photos. There are hundreds piled on the cushion. The same faces smile up at me, pulling my attention to my closest circle of friends, otherwise known as The Loonies since we all live on Loon Call Island in the summers.

My parents have had the same friends for as long as I can remember, and most of the kids are boys, so I'm totally blessed in the eyes of my girlfriends.

Thinking of our merry band of family and friends makes me smile. They're the people I love most in this world, well including Vi, of course.

One face stands out in nearly every single one of my memories. Hudson Rhodes.

Our Dad's have been best friends since they were fourteen. Geordie stood as Best Man for my dad, and vice versa when they married our moms. Naturally, my mum and Brooke became the best of friends.

Hudson, their oldest son, is my age, six months older to be precise. Logan, his brother, is the same age as Wes. We're all practically inseparable. Hudson is my best and oldest friend, no one knows me as well as he does.

Not to be outdone in the realm of epic friendships, my mum brought her friend of twenty years into the group; Joy Pruitt, Greyson, and Tess' mom.

I ignore the small tug in my chest as I think about Greyson to dig through the pile of pictures, pulling out one of the oldest ones. My mum is wearing a Halloween costume; Glinda the Good Witch, and Joy is the Wicked Witch of the West.

The image makes me smile; I think I took this picture with my first Polaroid camera when I was eight or nine years old. I can also see Greyson's sister in the photo, dressed as Dorothy, and trying to wrangle their cat into the role of Toto.

Tess was three years ahead of me at my rival school, Briar Prep, but she graduated last year. She's gone to school for a year in Switzerland with our other friends, the twins, Brodie and Steph.

Brodie and Steph's parents came into the group, conscripted by Joy and her husband Hugh, maybe twelve or thirteen years ago. They kind of just stuck with us, despite our wild antics. Hugh teases them and calls it a case of Stockholm syndrome.

I look back at the first picture I picked up and smile. That just leaves Theo.

Like Greyson, he's one year ahead of Hudson, and I in school. Everyone thinks his name is short for Theodore, but it's just Theo.

He's an only child with two working parents, so he spends a lot of time with us. We live three doors down from one another in the city.

Theo complains all the time about not having siblings, but we're always together, and we sleep at each other's houses as often as we sleep in our own homes, so I guess you could say most of us already feel like family.

When I'd started at Beaton Hall, I was an anxious mess. I went straight into the lionesses' den alone. I shiver just thinking about it. It wasn't as hard for the boys; they had each other.

I'd been a total wreck in the weeks leading up to school and even into the first weeks. I'd never spent much time around girls, and the social niceties are so much more complex.

Hudson dropped me off and picked me up every day after school for the first month. He wanted to make sure I was settling in and making friends. He'd eased back a bit after meeting Vi, recognizing a kindred spirit and knowing I was in excellent hands. But he still swings by most days to walk home with me.

Now, I love Beaton. With Vi, Jules, and even the outrageous Mads, I'm fitting in. The boys are all at Landon Preparatory School.

Beaton and Landon are brother and sister schools, as are Regan and Briar. But we all end up at the same events, anyway.

Thinking of the boys, and the events we'd shared this year pulls my attention back to Greyson. This time, I don't try to push away the tightness in my chest at the thought of him. I try to let it roll through me, out of me.

When school started, Greyson vanished. After our first kiss last July, my first kiss, we spent nearly every moment we could find together. Those secret, stolen moments tricked my heart into believing we could be more.

I couldn't believe how naïve I'd been, maybe still was. I guess as much as any other inexperienced girl fancying herself in love, but still, it stung.

Rather than take a hint, or give up like a normal person, I gave it one more try for the October dance. It took me a week to work up the courage to ask him to go with me. A clipped, "No, I've got a date, thanks," was my answer.

The feelings of shock and hurt were also new to me. I guess I can thank him for that first, too.

I'd started the term full of hope. Hope that we'd spend time together, that we'd tell our friends and family. I'd ended the term full of confusion and a strange sense of loss. Not only for our new budding romance, but for the friendship we once shared so easily.

It's also the first, and the only secret I've ever kept from Hudson, and keeping this secret from everyone except Vi has been so hard.

Because of Greyson's efforts to pull back, I'd let him, too uncertain of the fragile relationship we'd discovered. Too unsure of myself.

So, for the rest of the year, I watched him go to dances with other girls, and I saw him at the club or the gym, never knowing what to expect.

Greyson was always unpredictable. That's putting it mildly, I admit to myself. I knew he could be moody sometimes, but he never acted that way with me. Until now.

A few times, I ran into him when no one else was around. Then I saw the boy from summer, who was thoughtful, interested. Or so I thought. It was all the more confusing in those moments when he hugged me, held me close for just a moment longer than usual. It was dizzying, the emotional rollercoaster ride he strapped me into.

But the most confusing moment of all occurred over the Christmas holidays, just six months ago.

Theo and his family hosted our annual New Year's party, and I was joking with Hudson that I wanted a New Year's kiss, trying to push him into agreeing. Just between friends.

Hudson shyly accepted and gave me the sweetest, briefest kiss at the stroke of midnight, just on the corner of my lips. We both blushed, then laughed it off.

I excused myself from the group shortly after midnight to use the ladies' room. And there he was. He ignored me from the moment I arrived until that moment when he was yanking me into the study and kissing me, just like he'd done the previous summer.

My head had spun, but he'd only whispered a husky "Happy New Year" against my ear, then nudged me off in the direction I'd been heading.

I'd never been so stressed than in the weeks following the incident, as I called it. I tried to talk to him, but he was radio silent.

I can't even think about it now without the familiar anxiety creeping in.

The distance between us was so apparent, both Hudson and Theo kept asking what was up between Greyson and me.

They took cheap shots about his odd behaviour, about mine. They wanted to know why he didn't act like himself anymore when I was there, why I was as close to a nervous wreck as they'd ever seen me.

I wanted to strangle Greyson for putting me in the position where his behaviour drives my reactions, and where I'm lying to my friends.

Lying to Hudson.

But this summer is a clean slate, and I plan to make it one of the best we've ever had. Like every summer, I've created a bucket list, and Hudson, Theo and I have planned some fantastic activities for the summer.

We'll be a smaller group this year, and it's bittersweet. I'm never sure if I'll rope Greyson into anything lately, and I have no clue where we stand this summer. I don't plan to let it get in my way this summer. If Greyson has a problem, he can deal with it.

Fair is fair, after all. I dealt with the whiplash of his mercurial moods all year. He can deal with my plans this summer and either get on board or get out of the way.

But before heading up north this weekend, I still need to finish my Driver's Ed classroom learning sessions. Four more hours tomorrow, then I've done it. I'm determined to take the G1 test as soon as I turn sixteen in July.

As usual, I'm stretching myself thin across so many activities during the break. This summer will be extremely busy for me. I'll work three to four days per week in my first 'proper job'.

Mum wanted me to ride and compete for the entire summer, but Dad stood his ground. According to him, it's time for me to get a part-time job. He promised we could fit as many competitions as we wanted around my work commitment, but his decision was final.

Mum sulked for weeks, but Dad didn't back down. He's stubborn like that. It's why they're so well matched. Dad doesn't even cave in when she turns on her megawatt powers of persuasion. Wes and I have never stood a chance against them. She could convince a man in the desert he needs more sand if she turns on her megawatt Southern society charm.

So for the next twelve weeks, we'll be driving back and forth from my cottage to ride almost every Thursday, then I'll compete on alternating Fridays. Twelve weeks of summer, six competitions.

She hopes my performance this summer will convince Dad I should compete full time like she'd done when she was my age.

My money's still on Dad. I love my mom, but he's stubborn as a mule. She'll never wear him down.

Inspired by the box of memories before me, deciding it's time to change some pictures on my wall, I hop back onto my bed and pick one at random. I pin it with the small clip, smiling. It's my mom and I, with our horses. My sweet Kuna, and my mum's big softie Leo.

No matter how busy or stressed I might be, trying to balance everything, Kuna and the smile on my mum's face make it all worth it. There is nothing she loves more than sharing her love of this sport with me. Well, she probably loves us more, but I'm not entirely sure.

Naturally, I've also roped Hudson into my equestrian adventures, since we're joined at the hip. Or at least that's what everyone says. He often joins me at my competitions, scouting for girls, as he calls it.

But this year, he isn't just a spectator. My uncle took Hudson under his wing this year, and so begins his foray into competitive Polo. He absolutely loves it, but he'd be brilliant at anything.

I look over at the many pictures documenting Hudson's first few rides on Kuna. I will never take these down. I might even use them for blackmail one day. I giggle at the direction my thoughts take.

Hudson was so unsteady in the beginning, which drove him crazy as a natural-born athlete, but he stuck with it and is a young rising star in the polo club.

We'd spent nearly every free moment together this year. I naturally shifted closer to him and Theo when Greyson closed himself off. Protecting myself. Surrounding myself with the two people I know would never hurt me.

I know that I used Hudson and Theo to a certain extent as my shields, deterring boys all year. No one would come near me when I was with them. They tended to have that effect on other boys as two of the star multi-sport jocks at Landon. I hadn't been ready to face the uncertainty or anxiety involved with dating, so I didn't mind, in fact, I'd counted on it.

My success rate wasn't exactly confidence-boosting. My first, and only, attempt at something more than friendship had gone up in flames. No accelerant needed.

Most days, Hudson is the first and last person I talk to and we've only grown even closer this year as I'd taught him all about horses and he'd pushed me to push myself harder. To be braver. To trust myself again. Not that he even knew why it had been so important to me, why it meant so much to me.

Idly wondering whether I can go down for breakfast yet, I check the clock again.

I groan when I see I still have over an hour left until my alarm.

Giving up, I wander into my bedroom. Might as well get ready, considering I'll probably need all the help I can get to cover the evidence of my restless night.

Dropping my pyjamas on the floor of my bathroom, I turn the shower on, then face the mirror, grimacing at the tired girl staring back at me. Just as I thought, I'll definitely need all the help I can get today.

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xoxo Toria