Part 3 (2/2)

”That's not an answer, Reed. I know you were the one the police brought in for questioning. Don't even try to deny it,” she said. ”So what the h.e.l.l was that all about?” ”It was nothing,” I lied. My back was to her and I started to empty my bag just to give myself something to do. Give me an excuse not to look her in the eye. ”It was just... they never interviewed me after Cheyenne was found. I left campus with Josh and they questioned everyone else in the dorm, but they never questioned me. They just wanted to make sure they had everyone's accounts of what happened. You know, for the file.” ”And that was it,” Noelle said, sounding uncon vinced. ”They didn't say anything about Cheyenne being murdered. Didn't ask if you had any thing to do with it.”

Her doubtful tone caused something to snap inside of me, and I turned around. ”How could you think--” ”Allow me to quote from an e-mail you sent to a certain someone we both know,” she replied, as still as stone. ”'Cheyenne has lost it. We need to find a way to get rid of her. I need your help.' Now what was that all about? ”

Holy. Holy. c.r.a.p. Had Noelle just quoted to me from one of my e-mails to Dash? That was it. I could no longer stand. I fell back onto the edge of my bed and put my head between my knees, fighting for breath. The past few months flashed before my eyes. E-mails with Dash. Phone calls. His desperation that night at the Driscoll dinner. The longing in his brown eyes as he pulled me to him at the Legacy. Was it all lies? One big game? Had he told Noelle ev erything? Had he been betraying me at every turn? ”How did you... ?” I lifted my head. Noelle's expression was a mask of disgust. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting an extreme head rush pa.s.s. ”You know about... you know I e-mailed Dash?” Suddenly I no longer cared about Noelle's power-tripping. All I cared about was making it up to her. Explaining it to her. Keeping her from hating me.

Noelle scoffed, looking up at the ceiling like she just couldn't figure out what to do with me.

”Reed, try to remember who you're talking to. I read every last one of your pathetic e-mails and every one of his,” Noelle replied. ”Dash and I have no secrets. Even when we're broken up, I know his every move. This isn't just some high school crush. Dash and I are meant to be together. One little breakup is not going to derail that. And you”--she paused to laugh derisive ly--”you, Gla.s.s-Licker, are certainly not going to derail that.” ”So... what? He showed them to you?” I said, finding some indignation toward Dash in the midst of all my mind-bending panic. Did she know about the Legacy? Did she know?

”Please. No. I've known his pa.s.sword since freshman year. He never changes it,” she replied. ”So while we were apart, I kept an eye on him. Had to make sure my man was stay ing out of trouble.” Wow. I knew the girl liked to have her control, but wasn't spying on her exboyfriend's e-mails going a little far over the line into complete paranoia? Although, in this case she'd had every reason to be paranoid. ”So, yes. I know all about your little flirtation,”

she told me with a superior glint in her eye. ”You should know by now, Reed, that you can't keep secrets from me.” ”Noelle, it didn't mean anything,” I told her quickly, standing. ”It was just stupid and--” Noelle laughed merrily. ”Please. I'm not worried about you and Dash flirting on your computers like some pathetic fourth-graders. Could you be any lamer?” My face burned as if I'd just been slapped. ”He just missed me and you were a distraction. I know nei ther of you would ever have the b.a.l.l.s to actually do anything,” she added. ”Neither one of you is that stupid.”

Implication? If we had ”done something,” she would have made us pay. So she didn't know every move he made. She didn't know what had happened at the Legacy. As relief flood ed through me, so did an intense desire to tell her everything we had done--to wipe that supe rior certainty off her condescending face and show her that she did not know everything. But I bit my tongue. Even in all the trauma of the moment, my self-preservation instinct kicked in. Leave well enough alone. ”Let's get back to the point,” Noelle directed, walking over to my desk. She picked up my plastic box of paper clips and toyed with it, dumping the contents back and forth slowly, like a rattle. ”You wanted to get rid of Cheyenne, so tell me... what did you do?” ”I wanted to get her expelled, not killed,” I replied, turning my palms out at my sides.

”She was out of control... treating the new girls like dirt... trying to get them thrown out of school. I was actually e-mailing Dash to see if he could get in touch with you for help. Since you--”

I paused, not wanting to dredge up any more unpleasant memories. Noelle's brown eyes lit with understanding. ”Since I got Leanne expelled last year,” Noelle finished, placing the box down again. ”That was really more Ariana's thing.” ”I know, but Noelle...” I gazed at her, on the verge of desperate tears. ”Honestly, did you really think I could ever kill someone? I mean, you know me.” She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. ”I knew Ariana too,”

she said. ”Or so I thought. I'm not making that blind-trust mistake again.” Okay. She had a point. But it wasn't fair that Ariana's insanity should prejudice Noelle against me. I hadn't done anything wrong. Well, not anything that could get me arrested, anyway.

”Cheyenne and I were not getting along toward the end. Everyone knows this,” I told her.

”But I had nothing to do with her death. I mean, just look at it logically. The girl was out. She was expelled. I was never going to have to see her again. Why would I kill her? ” Noelle turned to face me fully and studied my face for a long moment. I couldn't believe she was still doubting me. Me. Her best friend. ”Noelle, please. You have to believe me,” I said, my voice cracking. ”I can't lose you, too.” Finally, Noelle rolled her eyes and gave me a genuine smile.

”Aw, Gla.s.s-Licker, you're such a sap,” she said, tilting her head to the side. ”Could you please stop calling me Gla.s.s-Licker?” I asked, grasping at levity. ”No,” she replied. ”You flirted with my boyfriend. I get to call you whatever I want for as long as I want.”

Right. I guess I couldn't argue with that. ”But we're okay?” I asked uncertainly. ”We're okay,” she replied. ”Let's go back downstairs before those girls decide on a slumber party theme without our direction.” ”Good idea.” She walked ahead of me out of my room and I paused for a moment to collect myself. My heart was racing, my mind felt numb, and there was a cool sheen of sweat all over my skin. The only question in my mind right then was how long we would be okay. How long could a person like Noelle Lange be kept in the dark about what really happened at the Legacy? And how long would I survive if she ever found out?

THANK NOELLE.

I had to focus on the task at hand. Focus. Not on Josh, not on Noelle, not on the Cheyenne investigation. On the fund-raiser. Focus on the fund-raiser. It was about all I could do to keep myself sane. So after English lit cla.s.s on Tuesday, Sabine and I speed-walked to lunch to go over our short list of theme ideas, which we had narrowed down at the meeting the night before. By the end of the day I was going to make a decision. By the end of the day some thing was going to be set in stone.

We grabbed sandwiches and bottled water and got to our table before any of the other Billings Girls arrived. In fact, the place was as still as the library. Only a few of the faculty and some of the foreign exchange students--who always seemed to arrive early to everything-were present, and their conversations were whispered, hushed. ”I think 'indulgence' is a per fect theme,” Sabine whispered as we sat down. ”All those ideas London had about serving on ly sweets and champagne and having private ma.s.sage rooms and cashmere blankets on ev ery seat as favors--it sounded divine.” ”I like it too, but it might be too expensive to pull off. It'll all depend on whether or not the Twin Cities can really get all that stuff for free or at cost,” I replied, opening my notebook to the theme list. ”What about the green theme? The environ ment is so trendy right now and we--” ”Ladies! I've got it!”

I stopped talking as the door to the dining hall flew open and Noelle made her announce ment. She strode over to our table, her cheeks flushed from the cold, tugging her camel-col ored suede gloves from her fingers. Tiffany, London, Vienna, Portia, and Shelby were at her heels, looking like very excited ladies-in-waiting. ”You've got what?” I asked, looking up at Noelle as she paused at the end of the table. ”The most perfect fund-raiser idea ever!” She shrugged her thick hair off her shoulders and spread her fingers wide. ”We are going to make so much money for this school, the Crom will not only leave Billings alone, he'll bow down to us for the rest of our scholastic lives.” I glanced warily at Sabine, whose expression had turned hard and cold. No surprise there. I was sure she saw this as yet another attempt by Noelle to seize control of Billings. But even if I did feel a twinge of foreboding myself, I had to ignore it. I owed Noelle that much, after last night's conversation. Besides, I was kind of psyched to hear about this plan of hers. In my experience Noelle's plans were generally fab ulous. ”Don't keep us in suspense,” I prompted.

”Right. So we have the big, extravagant dinner for the per-plate donation we talked about, but we also offer a special platinum ticket,” Noelle said, pulling a chair over to sit at the head of the table. ”And what do they get with a platinum ticket?” I asked. ”Patience, Reed. I was get ting to that,” Noelle said with a condescending smile. ”Anyone buying a platinum ticket will be invited to a salon earlier in the day to be styled by the one and only Frederica Falk, stylist to the stars.” London and Vienna clasped hands and squealed at the sound of the name. Like Noelle had just announced that Brad Pitt was going to be teaching their afternoon art history cla.s.s. ”And photographed by Ta.s.sos, world-renowned fas.h.i.+on photographer,” Tiffany added, grinning. ”Really? That's amazing,” I said. I had never heard of Frederica Falk, but all the oth er girls seemed beside themselves at the mention of her name. And I knew from the reverent way the Billings Girls talked about Tiffany's father, Ta.s.sos, that landing a shoot with him was one of the most sought-after prizes of the rich and famous. We could make a killing with this.

”And Dad has offered to donate a whole slew of his old photos and cameras and equip ment so that we can auction them off at the dinner,” Tiffany added, dropping into the chair next to mine. She whipped her heather gray scarf off and opened her coat. ”He can't wait. Said the studios are long overdue for a purging.” ”Are you sure he's okay with this?” I asked, turning to her. ”I know he's usually pretty busy.” ”Yeah, but he knows how much Billings means to me, so he's going to clear his weekend,” Tiffany said with a shrug of her slim shoul ders. ”He even said he'll donate all the film and developing, so his involvement won't cost us a thing.” ”Wow. This is amazing,” I said, dollar signs floating through my head. ”Frederica's do nating her time too,” Noelle added as the other girls took off their coats and slung them over various chairs with their bags. ”Kiran had major dirt on the woman, so it wasn't exactly difficult to convince her to go along.” ”Wait a minute. Kiran's involved? You talked to her?” I asked, nearly breathless at the thought. Kiran Hayes had been one of my best friends last year be fore the whole Thomas scandal went down, and I hadn't heard from her since. Suddenly I was practically salivating for news. ”How is she?”

”She's fine. She's Kiran,” Noelle said with a blase wave of her hand. ”Living with some male model on the Left Bank... planning some psychotic birthday bash for herself in Amster dam or something. The usual.” My friends chuckled knowingly, but I couldn't believe that was all I was getting. The girl had dropped off the face of the earth, except for the occasional ap pearance in a perfume ad or magazine spread. Had she finished school? Did she care? Was she still drinking like a fiend, or had she gotten her c.r.a.p together? Info, please! ”Anyway, Fred erica is going to bring along five a.s.sistants to make sure everything runs smoothly, and since she owns her own makeup line, supplies won't be a problem,” Noelle said, shrugging out of her cashmere coat. ”This is going to be the event of the season.” ”Try the year,” Portia correct ed. ”I don't know what to say, you guys,” I told them, feeling awed by their abilities, their con nections. ”This is going to be incredible.” ”Well, thank Noelle,” Shelby said, tucking her iPhone away and shaking her blond hair back. ”It was all her idea.” I glanced at Sabine again. She could have incinerated the entire dining hall with the fire in her eyes.

”Come on. I'm starved,” Portia said, grabbing a potato chip off my plate. ”Let's motor.” As Noelle, Tiffany, Portia, Shelby, and the Twin Cities scurried off to secure their lunches, I found myself alone with Sabine--and I didn't relish it. I had a feeling I was in for another overly con cerned lecture. ” Please don't tell me you think Noelle is trying to oust me again,” I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. ”Anyone could have come up with that idea.” ”Yes, but 'anyone' didn't,”

Sabine said, throwing in some air quotes. I had never seen her use air quotes before. She was really becoming Americanized. ”Noelle did. And she should have at least run it past you before telling everyone how brilliant she is.” ”She had to tell Tiffany, at least, so that Tiff could ask her father right away,” I replied. ”And besides, who cares who knew first? We were all go ing to hear it eventually.” ”It's a matter of respect,” Sabine said firmly. ”She has no respect for you.”

My mouth went dry and I took a long drink from my water bottle. Unfortunately, Sabine's blunt comment struck a nerve. Noelle had always been my friend, but she had rarely, if ever, shown any respect for me--well, except for that night when she'd saved my life.

”Aw. Madame President is looking a tad peaked,” Ivy Slade said, stopping next to our ta ble with her tray. ”Having trouble finding people who want to help you save the Den of Evil?” I wanted to reply, but not a single comeback came to mind. Ivy grinned at my hesitation, then laughed in my face and sauntered off toward Josh's table. I watched her go with narrowed eyes, wis.h.i.+ng I had some kind of telekinetic power that could send her sprawling on her a.s.s from across the room. Clearly, Hauer hadn't brought her in for questioning yet, or she couldn't possibly be so smug.

Or maybe she could. Who knew? The girl was a complete enigma. Noelle had been no help, and I a.s.sumed that the rest of the Billings Girls would be mum about Ivy as well. If one member of my house thought something was big enough to keep a secret, that usually meant they all agreed. But someone else at this school had to know something more about her. Someone who would be willing to talk.

TOTALLY WRONG.

”I've been doing a lot of research on the subject, and the residents of Billings House have always sort of pushed the envelope around here with the administration turning a blind eye. Why do you think they're coming down so hard on you now?” I stared at Marc's digital recorder, which he held in front of my face. Suddenly I realized I should have given some thought to what he might ask me and what I might say in return. But how was I supposed to concentrate on such things with so much going on around me? ”Reed?” Marc prompted. ”Um... because the new headmaster is a repressed jacka.s.s who's probably never experienced a single mo ment of unadulterated fun in his entire sad life?” I blurted. Marc looked at me, startled, then cracked up laughing. He doubled over and I felt a laugh bubble up in my throat as well. Before long we were both laughing uncontrollably in the middle of the sunlit quad.

”Can I quote you on that?” he asked, his eyes glistening with merry tears. ”Probably not a good idea,” I replied, grabbing his recorder and turning it off. It took a minute for us to regain our breath. It felt so good to laugh, I wanted to keep doing it all afternoon, but then I saw something that brought me up short, and my mirth died. Just like that. It was Detective Hauer, and he was striding purposefully across the quad a number of yards off. I glanced ahead, checking where he was going, and my eyes fell on Josh. Josh, who was walking toward Ket lar, completely oblivious to the heat-seeking missile coming his way. All the blood rushed out of my head. ”Reed? Are you all right?” Marc asked, concerned. I didn't answer. Couldn't. What did Hauer want with Josh? The detective caught Josh's attention, and Josh looked around for a moment, as if disbelieving that the man was talking to him. He looked so skittish, so frightened in that moment, I just wanted to go over there and get between them. Protect Josh from whatever was about to happen.

Marc turned around and saw what had caught me so off guard. We both watched as Hauer led Josh back to h.e.l.l Hall. Watched until they disappeared inside. ”What's going on?

Why would the police want to talk to Josh?” I said, breathless. ”It makes sense. He and Cheyenne were involved in that whole drug-s.e.x scandal thing right before she died,” Marc said pragmatically. ”Maybe they think he was holding it against her or something.” ”You know about that?” I demanded. Marc hesitated for a moment, as if snagged. Had he been research ing me and my past as well as Billings? ”Doesn't everyone know about that?” he said finally. I supposed it was possible. News did travel fast at Easton. Especially scandalous news. I decid ed to let it go. Especially considering there were more urgent matters at hand. ”So you think he's a suspect?” I asked, my heart racing. ” I don't,” Marc clarified. ”But they might.”

”This is insane. I can't believe they're doing this to him again,” I said, my words coming out in a rush. ”The girl committed suicide. Josh didn't do anything. He wouldn't. He--”

”Reed, it's okay. You don't know what they're doing in there. I'm sorry I said anything,”

Marc told me, turning around and straddling the bench so he could face me fully. ”Don't jump to conclusions, okay? I'm sure it's fine.” I had told Hauer to question Ivy. Ivy, not Josh. Had he just completely ignored everything I said? ”Reed, if you want to do this interview some other time, I completely understand,” Marc was saying. Off to my left, I heard a familiar laugh. Gage's laugh. I glanced over at him, hanging with some of his Ketlar boys. Gage, of course. Gage had dated Ivy last year, had been fooling around with her as recently as two weeks ago. If there was anyone on this campus who knew about Ivy, it was him. ”I'm really sorry, Marc. I have to go,” I said, standing and gathering up my book bag and coffee cup. ”Rain check?”

”Sure,” he said, standing as well. ”Do you want me to walk you back to your--” But I didn't let him finish. I was already halfway to Gage. When I reached him, I grabbed the arm of his trendy wool sweater and dragged him away from his friends. ”Backwater Brennan! What's with the stealth attack?” he asked, yanking his arm away. At first he looked annoyed, but then his eyes lit with conceited understanding. ”Oh, am I your next conquest?” he asked, rubbing his hands together as he looked me up and down. ”Sweet.” ”Ew. No.” I swallowed back the bile that was oozing its way up my throat and yanked him down next to me on an empty bench. Gage was, of course, unfazed by my response. ”I have a question about Ivy,” I told him. ”You mean Ice - Cold b.i.t.c.h? ” he said, clenching his jaw as he looked away. Apparently, someone was holding a grudge against his former paramour. Interesting. I hadn't been aware that Gage was capable of feelings. Maybe he'd recently seen the Wizard about a heart. ”What about her?”

”What happened to her last year?” I asked. ”Why didn't she come back to Easton for her ju nior year? ” ”You know, jealousy doesn't become you, Reed,” Gage told me, his blue eyes sparkling. ”You want to get back at Hollis, don't go sniffing around about his new lady friend. You have to make him jealous. And I can help with that,” he said suggestively, eyeing my legs. G.o.d. What was with the guys around here? ”Did you not catch the 'ew, no'?” I asked him, snapping my knees together. ”Now spill.”

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