The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (156 page)

I stood there for a moment in shock, unable to move or think or breathe. Noelle was the only person who knew I had been the one to be questioned by Hauer that night. Why would she do this? Why
would she start such a vicious rumor? Hadn’t I been through enough already?

Unless she was trying to send me a message. Trying to tell me how very over we actually were. This wasn’t something you did to a person you planned to eventually forgive. This was something you did to a person you hated to her very core.

My eyes filled with hot tears. Noelle hated me. She really and truly hated me.

A few girls from Pemberly walked by and saw me standing there, looking like I’d just been told I had three days to live. They all clutched each other and moved quickly away, like they thought I might suddenly attack. On their retreat they nearly ran over Josh Hollis and Ivy Slade. My boyfriend and my stalker. My boyfriend and the murderer.

My whole body went numb at the sight of Josh. His dark blond curls danced in the wind, and his blue eyes looked pained as he passed by me, like he wanted to talk. Almost like he was
desperate
to talk to me. But then Ivy tightened her grip on his arm and he turned away, ducking through the door to Hull Hall.

That was it. It was all I could take. I shoved my notebook into my bag and took off for class alone.

I survived that first day back by focusing on my teachers when I was in class and keeping my head down and my earbuds in when I wasn’t. At lunch I grabbed a sandwich and ate it by myself outside in the frigid air. Dinner I skipped entirely. Basically I played right into my new role—that of campus outcast extraordinaire.

But after another sleepless night, I realized I couldn’t live like this. First, I loved breakfast. Pretty much lived for it, actually. And second, I didn’t want to prove everyone right. I couldn’t slink around campus and let them think I was guilty. I
hated
proving people right. From that morning on I was going to hold my head high. People could say what they wanted. It wasn’t going to affect me.

Besides, I wanted to keep an eye on Ivy whenever I could. Who knew when she might trip up and give something away? I wanted to be there when it happened.

Of course, when I emerged from the breakfast line on Tuesday
morning I immediately doubted the sagacity of my plan. My eyes instinctively darted to the Billings tables and I felt such an instant and intense longing I almost fell over. There they were. My old friends. Looking as beautiful and untouchable as ever. They laughed and chatted and passed around holiday catalogs and checked out one another’s notes for class. Somehow, they seemed even more stylish and alluring and perfect than usual. Like when Josh had miraculously woken up even hotter the day after we’d broken up.

I forced myself to look at the other tables and seek out some new place to sit. But only wary, suspicious faces greeted me.

What was I thinking? This was never going to work. There was nowhere for me to go.

“Hey, Reed.”

I flinched, startled that someone was actually talking to me. When I turned around I found Diana Waters, Kiki’s roommate in Bradwell last year, hovering behind me. Behind her were two of her friends from Pemberly—Sonal Shah and Shane Freundel, people I knew vaguely from class. I had noticed Diana hanging out with them ever since Kiki had been invited to live in Billings.

“Hi, Diana,” I said. “Hey,” I added to the girls behind her. They gaped at me as if amazed I possessed the ability to speak.

“You can sit with us, if you want,” Diana offered, a smile lighting up her pretty, makeup-free face. She pushed a blond wave off her shoulder.

I was so relieved I could have hugged her, but at the same time
some shallow part of my inner being felt exactly how far I had fallen. A couple of weeks ago I had basically been the queen of this place. I’d had the most sought-after guys falling all over each other to ask me out and all the most elite girls at Easton hanging on my every word. Now a group of lowly Pemberly juniors in jeans, hoodies, and sneakers were extending a pity invite to their breakfast table. I could only imagine the giggles Noelle would get out of this.

Still, it was better than eating alone.

“Thanks,” I said.

I managed to keep my chin up as I followed them to their table in the far wing, away from the center of the room where the Billings Girls held court. I refused to look to see if Noelle and the others were watching. Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. But I felt as if I were under a harsh spotlight as I walked, and when I finally fell into a chair at Diana’s table, I felt exhausted.

“Nice table,” I said, forcing a smile for Diana and her friends. “Very private.”

They all smiled in a self-conscious way, but no one replied. Ooookay.

Trying to act as if everything was perfectly normal, I picked up my bottle of apple juice, shook it up, and popped the top. As I took a sip, I realized that Diana and her two friends were all communicating with one another silently, darting looks and nudging shoulders. Sour apprehension filled my stomach.

“What?” I said, lowering the bottle.

“You didn’t actually kill Cheyenne Martin, right?” Sonal asked. She was big-boned with dark skin and black curly hair and had a slight Hindi accent. Her dark eyes were wide behind her glasses.

“Sonal! God!” Diana said with a scoff, her cheeks turning pink. She shot me an apologetic look as she buttered her bagel. “Of course Reed didn’t.”

“No, of course I didn’t,” I echoed quietly.

This seemed to appease both Sonal and Shane. I saw their shoulders visibly relax.

“So, what’s it like to live in Billings?” Shane asked, crunching into an apple. The juice sprayed all over the place. She was a tall, athletic type with plain brown hair and plain brown eyes.

My heart twisted at the question. “It’s . . . uh . . .”

“Is it true you each have your own personal maid?” Sonal asked, scooting forward in her chair.

“No. Where did you hear—”

“But you do get an allowance every week from the alumni, right?” Shane asked. “Everyone knows that.”

“Well, not exactly. We don’t—”

“Do you guys really have champagne parties every Friday night?” Sonal demanded. “I mean,
did
you? And were guys really allowed to come?”

“Yeah. That one’s true,” I said. “Except for the guys . . .”

I glanced over at the Billings tables again and paused. Noelle, who always sat near the edge of the table, had several boxes and gift bags piled around her feet. Portia and the Twin Cities were pawing through
a huge gift basket filled with Fekkai hair products and M.A.C. makeup and Bliss Spa essentials in the center of the table. As I watched, a steady stream of junior and senior girls stopped by the table to chat, each offering some kind of gift.

“That’s weird,” I said under my breath.

“What?” Diana asked, glancing over.

“It’s a little early for Christmas gifts, isn’t it?” I said.

“Oh, those aren’t Christmas gifts,” Sonal said, shaking some salt over her scrambled eggs.

“You haven’t heard?” Diana appeared confused.

I instantly got that tight feeling around my heart. The one I get whenever everyone knows something I don’t.

“Heard what?” I asked.

“Everyone’s been talking about it since yesterday morning,” Diana said, taking a bite of her bagel. “They’re looking for someone to—”

She stopped midsentence and looked at me guiltily. I felt as if someone had just yanked my chair out from under my butt.

“Someone to replace me,” I finished. Slowly, I pushed my tray of pancakes away, no longer hungry.

“I’m sorry. I still can’t believe they threw you out,” Sonal said, her eyes wide but her voice quiet. “I mean, you were the president!”

“Yeah . . . ,” I said. There was a lump lodged in my windpipe, even though I’d yet to eat a thing. “So . . . why aren’t you all over there trying to bribe your way in?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t you guys want to be in Billings?”

“Not really,” Diana said, scrunching her nose.

I stared at her. Aside from Ivy, I’d never heard of a girl at Easton not wanting to be in Billings.

“Why not?” I asked.

Diana looked around at her friends and shrugged. “We kind of like it where we are. It may seem boring to you guys, but at least we don’t have to deal with all the drama.”

“We have other priorities,” Shane added with a sniff. “Like, other than shopping.”

Okay, ouch. This one at least had the requisite Billings bitchiness down.

“But that doesn’t mean we’re not curious about it,” Sonal said, wiping her fingers on her napkin. “So. Tell us. If you didn’t kill Cheyenne, then who do you think did?”

“Sonal!” Diana scolded again.

That was about as much as I could take. I pushed myself up from my chair.

“I have to go,” I said.

“Reed, I’m sorry. You don’t have to—”

“No. It’s cool. Thanks, Diana,” I said. “I’ll see you in class.”

I grabbed my coat and bag and turned around, looking forward to a speedy exit into the cold air outside. Just as I was about to push through the back door of the caf, I almost walked into Amberly Carmichael for the second time in as many days. For once she was making an appearance sans her normally hovering friends. Her wavy blond hair was back in a velvet headband and she wore a long tweed skirt over black leather boots. In her arms was a Tiffany box
that was half the size of a cafeteria table, a box she’d come close to dropping during our near collision.

“Hey!” she snapped loudly, looking me up and down. “You break it, you buy it.”

“Sorry,” I said, not meaning it.

She sighed, rolling her big blue eyes, and placed the box down on the empty table next to us.

“Actually, I’m glad you almost bumped into me,” she said loudly, tugging her leather gloves off finger by finger. “I’ll be needing that Carma Card back.”

Half the cafeteria fell silent, all the better to eavesdrop. I looked around, my face turning ten shades of red. From the corner of my eye, I saw Portia and Shelby craning their necks to better see the proceedings. Noelle was looking on, amused. Clearly Amberly was performing for them. This little twit who had been kowtowing to me since the beginning of the year. The girl who would have jumped off a bridge if I’d asked her to a week ago. Now she was treating me like the hired help. Or worse. Could this be any more humiliating?

Yes, I realized, it could. If I gave the stupid piece of plastic back to her.

“Right. Like that’s gonna happen,” I said, tilting my head and trying for my best superior Billings Girl tone. I started by her, but she quickly stepped in front of me.

“You’re not keeping it,” she said with a condescending laugh. “I gave it to you. I can take it back.”

All the guys sitting two tables down were watching me mirthfully,
waiting for my breakdown. And why not? What formerly powerful junior wouldn’t break down in the face of defiance from a scrawny freshman? In fact, most of the people in the room were watching me with that anticipation in their eyes. I felt myself start to crumble as giggles and snickers surrounded me, but then I saw Josh and Ivy stroll through the door hand in hand. Together they paused, instantly noting the big spotlight on my forehead. That was all I needed. No way were those two going to see me go down. And given that I had handled the disc showdown with Noelle, I could certainly deal with Amberly.

“Manners, Amberly,” I said,
tsk
ing under my breath. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you it’s impolite to rescind a gift?”

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, uncertain. Apparently this comment had somehow hit home. Guess her parents
were
big on propriety.

“Plus, I want to keep it as a souvenir. Maybe it’ll be a collector’s item after Starbucks finally destroys your dad’s business,” I said.

The guys at the nearest table let out a long, low “oooooh,” and I couldn’t help but smile. Finally, score one for me. Amberly’s face turned bright red and I took the opportunity to shoulder my bag and skirt by her. I slipped right past Josh and Ivy and beelined for the door, savoring my triumph. Savoring the fact that I was still capable of having one. That maybe everything wasn’t quite as hopeless as I’d thought.

That afternoon Sabine, Diana, and I sat on one of the benches on the quad, going over the history reading. It was a bizarrely warm day for December, and melting ice and snow dripped from the stone buildings’ rooftops into the gutter catches below. Most of Easton was taking advantage of the anomalous weather, and the quad was dotted with klatches of students, many of whom were clearly gossiping about me, of course. They kept throwing me curious looks, tilting their heads together and whispering. I couldn’t believe that Sabine and Diana were so willing to risk being seen with the school pariah.

“Doesn’t it bother you that everyone’s staring at us?” I finally asked.

Diana glanced up from her textbook. “Are they? I didn’t notice.”

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” Sabine replied with a shrug.

I grinned, touched again by Sabine’s unwavering friendship. And how had I never realized how unabashedly nice Diana was? Oh, right.
Because I had always been too busy trying to get in with the Billings Girls.

“Do you think he’s going to give us a pop quiz? Because if he does, he’s definitely going to ask about all these stupid baby boom statistics,” Diana said, pointing at a bulleted list in the book. “Barber just
loves
to talk about the baby boomers.”

I was about to focus—I really was—but then I saw Trey Prescott, Josh’s roommate, walking by with some books tucked under his arm. Immediately I started to wonder—what did Trey think of Ivy? He had to know more about her and Josh’s relationship than I did. They probably spent all kinds of time in Josh and Trey’s room together. Had Trey ever heard her say anything weird or seen her act erratically? Suddenly, I had to know. And Trey was, atypically, alone, which was a blessing for me. He was a lot more likely to talk to me if he was alone. Feeling a sudden flutter of nerves, I jumped up and grabbed my bag.