The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (96 page)

“No, she’s not. She’s totally normal,” Rose said.

I glanced across the cafeteria at her. She was still watching me. “I wouldn’t say totally normal.”

“She’s just been through a lot, that’s all,” Rose said, shaking her head as she took a bite of her food. “We used to be friends,” she added morosely.

I was going to ask her more, but that was when Cheyenne, Vienna, and Portia finally emerged from the line, chatting like everything was normal.

“Here we go,” I said under my breath.

When Cheyenne looked up, she tripped herself and had to grab a chair for support. Oh, how I wished she’d gone down. It would have made the moment perfect.

“Okay, everyone. Act normal,” I told the table.

Cheyenne started the long march over to us in her heels, the fury evident in her very step.

“So you think we’re ready for the first game, man?” Trey asked Josh loudly, taking a bite of his roll. “I heard Barton has some sick new talent this year.”

“Nah. We’re ready,” Josh said. He leaned back in his seat, hooking his arm over the back of the chair casually. “Some phenom freshman’s not going to take us down.”

“
What
do you think you’re doing?” Cheyenne demanded, slapping her tray down on the next table so she could cross her arms over her chest. “They do not get to sit here. I thought I made that clear.”

She glanced over at Constance, Lorna, and Sabine like they were gnats.

“It’s a big cafeteria, Cheyenne,” I said coolly. “If our presence bothers you so much, why don’t you take that table over by the bathroom? Can’t really get farther away from us than that.”

“This is our table,” Cheyenne said. “Billings always has this table.”

“And the next one,” I said with a shrug, popping a grape into my mouth. “I guess you could always sit there.”

“You are so ridic,” Portia said with a laugh. “I mean hilariously ridic.”

“No one here is laughing,” I replied. “And no one at this table is moving. So you can stand there and hover all period, or you can sit down. Your choice.”

Cheyenne stood there. We went back to our lunches. Josh and Trey continued their soccer smack talk. Rose and Tiffany chattered on loudly about alumni weekend and the dinner at the Driscoll. I asked Constance to pass the salt. And yet Cheyenne stood. And stood. And stood. I was growing impressed by her fortitude, actually. But there was no way I was going to give.

“Cheyenne? My feet hurt,” Vienna said finally.

“Fine,” Cheyenne said through her teeth. She turned around and yanked out the chair behind Constance’s, slamming it into her purposely. I bit my tongue. Then, just for the hell of it, she took the chair opposite it, facing me across the two tables. “But this so isn’t over,” she said.

“Looks over to me!” I replied.

“Freaking priceless,” Portia said under her breath as she sat. “I wait three years to sit at that table and now I’m relegged.”

“Speak English!” Cheyenne said through her teeth.

“Relegated! God! Take a pill!” Portia replied, annoyed.

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. Then I saw Kiki, Missy, and Astrid emerge from the line. It was time to put phase two into action. “Kiki! You guys! Over here!” I shouted, standing. “We saved you seats.”

They walked over, and Josh and Trey, as prearranged, got up and headed off for one of the Ketlar tables.

“Thanks, guys!” Rose called after them.

Cheyenne’s face was perfect. Tiffany, kindred spirit that she was, snapped a shot of Cheyenne for posterity. Kiki slid right into Trey’s
vacated seat and opened her iced tea. Astrid hesitated for a split second, looking from Cheyenne to me. When her eyes fell on Constance and the others and their hopeful expressions, she did what I hoped. She opted for neophyte solidarity and took Josh’s chair.

I knew she was cool. Knew it.

“Thanks anyway,” Missy sniffed and joined the others.

No shock there. There was an empty chair at the very far end of the table for her, but no one had actually expected her to take it. I looked down the table and smiled. These were exactly the people I wanted to sit with. These, to me, were true Billings Girls. Round Two had just gone to me.

I was still high on triumph when I came around the stacks into the computer section of the library later that day and it all fell to pieces. I stopped in my tracks. Josh and Cheyenne. Josh and Cheyenne sitting with their knees together, facing each other, whispering and laughing and gesturing. Looking, to borrow a word from Sabine, cozy. Cheyenne flipped her blond hair off her face and smiled her Crest-commercial smile, her all-American beauty somehow infinitely more glaring now that it was all up in my boyfriend’s face.

“Hello?” I heard myself say.

Josh glanced over his shoulder. His face fell and he pushed backward, away from Cheyenne. She simply smirked as I strode over.

“What’s going on?” I asked tersely. I looked at him, not her. I didn’t want to have anything to do with her.

“We were just talking about the food committee,” Josh said, somehow looking me right in the eye. “We’re trying to decide
whether to just do passed hors d’oeuvres or have stations at the cocktail hour.”

“And I still say stations are too gauche,” Cheyenne said to him.

“And I still say hungry guys want carved meat,” he replied.

It was flirtatious banter. They were flirtatiously bantering right in front of me.

“You can go now,” I said to Cheyenne.

Josh did a double take. “Reed—”

Cheyenne narrowed her eyes at me. “That’s fine. I suddenly don’t feel like being here anyway,” she said. Then she gathered her books and stood. “Call me later, Josh,” she said, smiling down at him.

“Yeah. Sure.”

It was all I could do not to kick out my foot and trip her as she walked away. I turned and looked down at Josh, my heart pounding.

“What was that?” I demanded.

Josh blew out a sigh. “I know you don’t like her right now, but we’re working together. I couldn’t avoid it.”

I dropped my books at the next computer and sat. “Really? Looked a bit chummy for alumni dinner talk.”

“It’s the library. We were whispering. We had to sit close to each other to be heard.” He studied my face quickly. “Wait a minute. You’re not, like, jealous of her, are you?” My face must have said it all, because he laughed. “No way. Come on. I thought you were just mad at me because you guys are fighting. Me and Cheyenne? Please.”

I hated the way I felt right then. Suspicious and sad and stupid for
feeling suspicious and sad. I crossed my arms and stared at the Easton crest in the middle of the computer screen.

“I’m not the only one who’s noticed it,” I told him flatly.

“Great. So now the Billings Girls are just inventing things to gossip about?” He took my hand and slid closer to me. “Reed, you’re it, okay? You’re my girlfriend. Cheyenne is . . . not my type.”

“Whatever you say,” I said noncommittally, unwilling to just accept it. Unwilling to be the girl who just forgets what she knows she saw and believes her man unconditionally.

“God, I wish you would just quit Billings. Being around them is making you paranoid,” he said.

“I already told you. I’m not going to quit,” I said.

“Why not? You so don’t belong there anyway,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

He sat up straight, looking momentarily confused. “What? I just think you’re so much better than those girls. Smarter, kinder . . . just better.”

My shoulders relaxed slightly. “Cheyenne would go nuclear if she heard you say that.”

“Just one more reason to ditch the place,” Josh said. “I don’t want the two of you to be at war.”

The two of us. Not me. The two of us. He cared about the two of us.

“Forget it,” I said stoically, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to quit. I’d rather stay there and try to change things.”

Josh smiled adorably and reached up to pinch my cheeks. “My little activist,” he teased. He kissed my forehead. “I love it.”

“And I love when you treat me like I’m some adorable niece,” I groused.

Josh looked me in the eye, leaned in, and parted my lips with his, laying a kiss on me that made everything inside me shudder. Made me forget all about Cheyenne and my suspicion. There was no way he could kiss me like that if he liked her, right? It wasn’t even possible. When he finally pulled away, I was so out of it, I dropped forward and we almost bumped heads. But he caught my shoulders and held me.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much,” I replied, blinking my eyes open.

“Good. I’d better go now. The librarian is staring me down,” Josh said, biting his lip. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“I’ll be there,” I replied.

As he jogged out of the library, I felt myself start to slump. Somehow, I felt let down. Slow. Tired. With a sigh, I turned to my computer and opened my e-mail. There was a brand-new message in my box from Dash. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my heart pounded. I opened it quickly, feeling like someone was watching.

Hey, Reed,

How’s it going with the new girls?

WB

Dash

Quickly, I typed a response.

Hi, Dash,

We’re on the brink of all-out war, actually. Cheyenne wants three of the six out and we’ve sort of squared off. Rose and Tiff and maybe a few other girls are with me, but I’m worried I won’t be able to stop her.

Advice?

—Reed

I sent the message, then sat back in my chair and, still feeling nervous, glanced over my shoulder. No one was around except for the elderly librarian, who was bent over a book, as always. The computer gave a low beep, and my heart caught. Apparently Dash was online, because he’d written right back. Hand shaking, I clicked open his message.

Reed,

Do not be nervous. If there was one person at Easton I could always count on to be on the right side of things, it was you. Do not let Cheyenne make you feel otherwise. You have the high road. I’ll be thinking of you, sending good vibes your way.

—Dash

I read the e-mail twice. Then a third time. Something stirred inside my chest. For the first time all day, I felt certain. And proud. I couldn’t believe that was how Dash McCafferty saw me. And he
said he was thinking of me. Thinking of
me
 . . . A blush crept across my cheeks. Dash McCafferty was sitting in his dorm room at his Ivy League school thinking about little Reed Brennan.

A loud bang somewhere in the stacks startled me, and I quickly shut the window, scared half to death. Instantly I thought of Noelle. Imagined how furious she would be if she knew that Dash and I were in contact. If she knew that his e-mails made me blush. Which, of course, made me think of Josh. What the hell was I doing? I’d just accused him of flirting with Cheyenne, yet here I was doing almost the exact same thing with Dash. What was the matter with me? Overwhelmed by guilt, I deleted Dash’s e-mail and fled.

Study break at Billings House that night consisted of Chicago-style pizza that Tiffany’s friends from home had FedExed to her and she’d heated up in the illegal microwave in her room, along with several bottles of champagne, or “Dommy P” as Portia called it, which her twenty-three-year-old oil-magnate boyfriend had sent to celebrate the start of her senior year. Everything was calm, considering that war had been declared. I knew better than to trust the lull, but I wanted to. I wanted just five seconds without drama. So I grabbed a slice and joined the others in the parlor, where they were watching
Batman Begins
for the twenty-fifth time—or, more accurately, just pausing it on particularly hot Christian Bale moments. I was just starting to enjoy myself when I realized Sabine wasn’t there. Cheyenne and Vienna weren’t there either, but that was not a point of concern.

“Hey. Have you seen Sabine?” I asked Rose as she tipped her champagne flute to her lips.

“I think she’s upstairs,” she said. “Oooh! Shirtless!” she shouted, waving her hand at the screen. “Someone pause!”

I dropped my pizza crust on the china plate donated by some elderly Billings alumnae and headed upstairs. Sabine had been almost silent all day long. I hoped she wasn’t planning on asking for a transfer. Cheyenne would be unbearable after a victory like that. And besides, if there was one thing I knew about Billings, it was that sticking it out was the best policy. Getting through all Noelle’s tests and pranks had been a serious source of pride for me. I wouldn’t be the person I am now without it. And I wanted that for Sabine. I wanted her to be the person who was able to stand up to Cheyenne.

On a selfish note, I didn’t want her to leave me. I was starting to get used to having actual friends around.

I pushed open the door to our room, but it was empty. Her desk light was on, but there was no sign of her. Then I heard voices down the hall. Intense, low tones. Coming from Cheyenne’s room. I felt the same skitter of apprehension I had always felt when Noelle and Ariana were talking alone. I held my breath and tiptoed toward them.

Just outside Cheyenne’s doorway, I paused and listened.

“No. I’ll get it. I’ll do it,” someone said in a low tone.

I wasn’t sure who was talking, but it was so urgent, it made all the hairs on my arms stand on end. Get what? Do what? Then someone else replied so quietly, I couldn’t make out the words. Dammit. Had to go for plan B. I turned around and shoved open the door, about to say something snarky. But instead, I froze. It wasn’t Vienna that Cheyenne was talking to. It was Sabine.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

There were clothes laid out on the bed, high-heeled wedges and boots on the floor.

“Nothing.” Sabine was calm as a warm bath.

“I’ll be here,” Cheyenne said to her in a meaningful way.

Sabine nodded and started past me, her eyes down. I followed her into the hallway. “Where’re you going?”

“Cheyenne needs a book from the library,” Sabine said. Her eyes were oddly bright. “I’m just going to run and get it.”

I looked out the plate glass window at the end of the hallway. It was pitch black and raindrops battered the panes like they were desperate to get inside.