Part 5 (1/2)

The moment we walked through the doors of Barneys New York the next morning, the Twin Cities took off like a pair of sugar addicts who'd just been let loose at a chocolate facto ry. I glanced at Noelle and Sabine and laughed. ”Looks like we're on our own.” Now please just don't kill each other. That morning over an early brunch, we called the St. Sebastian and booked it for the fund-raiser dinner and auction. Noelle hadn't been all that happy about it, but she had agreed with me in the end. Then we had called Kiki and Astrid to give them the dates and told them to send out the e-mail invites ASAP. Now, everything in place, it was time for a little retail therapy. The Billings Girls' therapy of choice. We strolled through the main floor with its wide walkways and gleaming gla.s.s counters, and then down the stairs to the beauty department. Noelle wandered off toward the makeup counters to check out a few things, and I was. .h.i.t with a whiff of perfume. I paused and looked over at an anorexic-looking woman dressed in a formfitting black suit who was offering samples of some new scent. The cash I'd been given by the Billings alumni was currently burning a hole in my Chloe bag, and I had nev er bought myself perfume before. Could I possibly spend my green on something so deca dent?

Why not? This was my weekend of freedom. I could do whatever I wanted. ”I'm going to go try out some perfume,” I told Sabine. ”I'll come with you,” she replied. As if I ever thought she was going to go after Noelle. After a.s.saulting my senses with fifteen ridiculously strong scents, I chose a clean, invigorating perfume called, appropriately, Free, and barely broke a sweat handing over the many bills I needed to sh.e.l.l out for the tiny bottle. The moment the transaction was done, my iPhone rang, and Vienna's picture came up. ”What's up?” I asked.

”Max out your credit already?” She ignored my joke. ”Where are you b.i.t.c.hes? We're trying on dresses. Get your b.u.t.ts up here!” she shouted.

”Guess we're going to try on dresses,” I told Sabine and Noelle, who had just joined us with a small bag from La Mer. ”Sounds like a plan,” she said. She glanced at my bag. ”I can't believe I'm actually in Barneys,” Sabine breathed, looking around as we ascended the escala tor. I glanced at Noelle, knowing some obnoxious comment was right on the tip of her tongue. She caught my look, and instead of saying whatever she wanted to say, she looked away. Huh. Maybe Noelle was starting to get bored of teasing Sabine. Or maybe whatever she and Dash had done last night had left her in such a good mood that her heart wasn't in it. She hadn't returned to our suite until this morning. Clench. Okay. Not thinking about that. We found London and Vienna in the s.p.a.cious dressing room off the couture section on five, being waited on by two very eager a.s.sistants. From the looks of their rooms, they had already tried on several dresses and sorted them into racks of ”yes's” and ”no's.”

”Oooh! What'd you get?” London asked, grabbing at me and Noelle and our little Barneys bags. ”Perfume,” I said, as she pulled out the bottle so she and Vienna could inspect it. Vien na spritzed it and smiled. ”Nice. Very bold. Very you.” ”Thanks,” I said, beaming as I re claimed the expensive bottle. They seemed much less interested in Noelle's face cream.

”Have you guys found anything yet?” ”We found something for you !” London announced, shoving a gold minidress at me. ”You have to try this one on! With your legs and b.u.t.t, the guys will go catatonic when they see you.” At the mention of my b.u.t.t I froze. I saw Noelle check it out in the mirror. Was she thinking of Dash? Wondering if he'd ever noticed it? Won dering if she'd been wrong about our flirtation being so very innocent? ”She's right. You'll look hot in that,” Noelle said finally. She slipped out of her coat and glanced at one of the hovering workers. ”Bring me something sophisticated and black. Only black,” she told them.

”Right away, Miss Lange,” the girl said. Of course she knew Noelle's name. ”We have some fabulous new things you'll just adore.” ”I'm sure I will,” Noelle replied, taking a seat on the velvet chair in the corner. And adore them she did, considering she bought five of them. After trying on practically everything in the store, London and Vienna went home with two new dresses each. I bought the gold one, which basically made me look runway-worthy. It put an other dent in my cash, but it was totally worth it. Noelle kept urging me to use the Billings Alumni Fund instead, since the dress was for the fund-raiser, but I didn't feel right about it. Sabine, meanwhile, snapped up a Marc Jacobs on sale. Even though she came from money like the rest of the Billings Girls, her family had actually taught her frugality. Go figure. Afterward, we hit the CO-OP on the top floor, where the Twin Cities stocked up on more pairs of jeans than any two people could ever wear in a lifetime, and I splurged on a funky BCBG sweater that cost more than my mother brought home each week from her new job at Target. I could get used to this having-money thing. Although the wad was rapidly dwindling at this point. Perhaps I'd receive a new stash at Christmas or something. I'd have to hold out hope. By the time we returned to our waiting limo, we were so loaded down with bags, they didn't all fit in the trunk. We had to squeeze a few in between us on the seats. I let out a sigh as I dropped back against the cool leather, feeling tired, but in a very self-satisfied way. ”That was a productive weekend,” Noelle said as the chauffeur closed the door behind us. ”Yeah, for American Express!” Vienna joked, shoving some bags into the corner near the part.i.tion.

”Back to Easton, then? ” I said with a smile, happy to discover that I was actually looking forward to getting back there. This weekend really had been like a vacation. I felt so much more relaxed and happy. Like everything was going to be all right. That retail therapy always did the trick. ”Back to Easton,” Noelle replied. ”Drew! We're ready!” she shouted at her driver.

”Noelle, whip out those Prada boots you got again so I can drool over them,” London said, scooting forward in her seat as Drew edged into traffic. ”If you insist,” Noelle said smugly, pulling the box out.

London delicately lifted one of the black leather boots from the tissue inside the box and hugged it. ”OmiG.o.d. I want to marry these boots!” ”I don't know why you didn't just get a pair for yourself,” Noelle said. London scowled and handed the coveted boot back. ”I tried them on, but they pinched my feet.” ”Of course they did, Ms. Big Foot. You totally need that surgery where they pare down your tootsies,” Vienna said. ”Ew! Vienna!” I exclaimed. ”What? Her feet are as wide as a duck's. Seriously! Have you not noticed? Here! I'll show you!” Vienna ex claimed, grabbing one of London's legs and lifting it onto her lap. She tugged at the lace of one of London's Coach booties and tried to pry it off. ”Leave my monster feet alone!” London squealed, giggling as she tried to squirm from Vienna's grasp. ”No! The world needs to know about your deformity!” Vienna said with a faux cackle.

We were all laughing as Drew pulled the car out onto the FDR. Then, suddenly, all five of our phones beeped and sang in near unison. Everyone scrambled in their bags, but my phone was hidden somewhere at the bottom of my Chloe. Vienna was the first to unearth her cell. ”OmiG.o.d!” London and Vienna blurted in unison. They were both gaping down at Vien na's screen, looking ashen, London's legs still hooked over Vienna's. ”What?” I asked, sitting up straight again. ”What's wrong?” ”The cops just dragged Ivy off for questioning!” London said, her eyes wide. My heart started to pound. They had come for her. They had finally come for her. ”About Cheyenne?” Sabine asked, glancing at me with concern. Vienna swallowed and nodded. ”There must be new evidence or something. They've actually reopened the case as a possible murder.” Everything inside of me deflated. We sat there in stunned silence, let ting the true meaning of this sink in. Possible murder. Another murder. There could very well be a killer somewhere on campus. Again. Even though I had known this was a possibility, I still felt as if I was hearing the news for the first time. I guess I had been hoping it would all just go away. Now that hope had been dashed. I looked up at Noelle, my skin cold. She stared grimly back. We were going to have to go through this. Again.

Later that night Constance, Rose, Tiffany, and I walked into the solarium together. I hadn't seen the place so dead in months, not since Coffee Carma opened. But that night the place was so hushed it could have been a museum. People were talking--of course they were talk ing--but they were talking in whispers. Paranoid, frightened whispers. It was all too familiar. Too eerily, skin-tinglingly familiar. Cheyenne's death was bad enough. But Cheyenne's possible murder? It had left the place grim. I wanted to tell them all what I knew--that Cheyenne's grieving parents had asked for the investigation and that the po lice weren't 100 percent behind it--but I couldn't. Not without everyone knowing that I had been the one to visit with the cops last week. I glanced right and saw Josh alone at a table with a book open in front of him. He was looking at me but quickly looked away. What did that mean? ”I really don't believe this is happening,” Constance said under her breath, clinging to the sleeves of her white sweater. As we wove our way around the cafe tables and couches, every eye in the room was on us. The Billings Girls. Once again we were at the center of a murder investigation.

”How could it have been murder?” Tiffany whispered. ”We were all there. We all saw her. She took pills. There was no violence, no struggle. She wrote a note. I don't understand.” Two notes, actually. But there was no need for them to know that. ”Well, clearly the police have something or they wouldn't be questioning all these people,” Rose said. Her normally healthy skin looked waxy under her red ringlets. ”I just can't imagine it. She must have been so scared. Why didn't she call for help? Why didn't she--” Rose's voice broke and she covered her face with her sleeve, which was pulled down over her hand. Tiffany put her arm around her and shot me a sad look. ”We'll go get a table,” she said.

My insides quaked as Constance and I joined the short line at the counter. I wanted to squirm to try to make this awful feeling go away, but I knew it wouldn't work. This feeling wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. No point in letting half the school see me fidgety and nervous and scared in the meantime. ”I hate this. I hate it,” Constance said, hugging herself tighter. She leaned closer to me as the worker behind the counter fired up the foam maker.

”Do you realize that someone in this room might have killed her? Might have snuck right into our dorm while we were all asleep and killed Cheyenne? I can't handle this.” I was about to re spond when the already quiet vibe went deathly still. As if someone had just hit the mute but ton on the sound track of our lives. Startled by the sudden silence, I turned around. Ivy stood in the doorway, looking like a rabid pit bull ready to strike. No one moved. They had let her go. The police had let her go. Her blue eyes found me in the crowd. ”You,” she said under her breath. She stormed across the room. Everyone turned to look at me now. To see what I would do. They must have been disappointed, because I could think of nothing. Like a deer in headlights, I just let her come. ”Ivy.” Josh stood as she pa.s.sed before him, but she flinched away. In two seconds her hand was on my arm. Grip like a vice. She dragged me away from Constance, who let out a gasp. ”What are you--” ”Back off,” Ivy snapped at her. Ivy pulled me into the corner near the emergency exit where we were partially hidden from view by a large potted plant. I couldn't see anyone from this vantage point, which meant they couldn't see me either. My pulse started to race. Suddenly the airy room was full of murmurs. What was Ivy doing? No one treated the president of Billings this way. The thought finally woke me up from my stunned stupor and I s.n.a.t.c.hed my arm back, sure her grip was going to leave finger-shaped bruises. ”What is wrong with you, you--”

”I know you were in my room at the Legacy,” Ivy said, cutting me off. She stepped right up in my face, her dark hair like two blankets around those eerie blue eyes. I took an instinctive step back, then hated myself for it. ”You found my alb.u.ms. You left them all over the floor, so I know that you know.” ”Know what?” I said, stalling for time. ”Don't play dumb. It's beneath you,” Ivy said. Weird. Was that a compliment? ”Did you tell the police about me and Cheyenne?” she asked. She was all accusatory. Indignant. As if I had done something wrong. I lift ed my chin and looked her dead in the eye. ”Yes, I did. You've got to admit, it's all a little sus pect,” I said firmly. ”You guys are best friends all the way up through soph.o.m.ore year, but now you hate each other out of nowhere? Put it all together with your shady criminal past and whatever this deal was with your grandmother and you start to look like a suspect to me.”

”Shut up,” Ivy said venomously. She didn't even register surprise at the revelation that I knew about her family and her indiscretions. ”Do not talk about things you will never under stand.” ”So make me understand them,” I replied, growing warm from all the adrenaline.

”What the h.e.l.l happened between you guys?” ”I don't have to explain myself,” Ivy said with a sneer. ”Least of all to you.” That sneer got right under my already taut skin. ”You think you're so superior, don't you? You people with your rituals and your sisterhood c.r.a.p and your black ball ceremonies,” Ivy said, her eyes narrowing. ”Well, guess what, Reed? It's your turn now. Your turn to find out what it feels like to be blackballed. We're going to see how you like it.” I couldn't breathe. All I could see were those black marbles in my desk drawer. She had put them there. She had to have put them there. Why else would she be saying these things to me? Ivy was my stalker. She had somehow gotten her hands on a key to Billings, whether by stealing Kiki's or getting one in the office or finding one some other way--it didn't matter. How ever she had done it, she was guilty. There was no other explanation.

”I've never done anything to you,” I said through my teeth, trembling from head to toe. ”I barely even know you. Why are you doing this to me?” Ivy smiled evilly. ”Haven't done any thing. Yet.” She turned to go and I instinctively reached out and grabbed her. ”Stop lying, you freak.” Her eyes went wide as she looked at my fingers on her arm. ”You little-” ”Ivy!” Josh came up behind her and touched her shoulder just as she made a move to attack. To hit me, push me, scratch me? I had no idea. But the touch of his fingers stopped her. ”Come on,” he said in her ear. Right in her ear. Their cheeks touching. Josh's skin against hers. I was going to throw up. ”Come on. Let's get out of here,” he said in that soothing voice I knew so well. It sent s.h.i.+vers of regret and longing and pain down my spine. ”You don't need this. Let's just go.” Ivy bent her head forward. Leaned her shoulder into him. ”Fine. I'll go.” Josh turned away, his hand now on her back. He never looked at me. Not once. ”But this isn't over,” Ivy said to me as he tugged her along. Said loud enough for every salivating student in the solar ium to hear. ”You just sealed it, Reed. Billings is going down. And I'm taking down every last one of you with it.”

Ivy. It was her. I was sure of it now. She hated Billings. She hated me. Maybe she even had some sort of sick, twisted, leftover loyalty to Cheyenne. She was the one messing with me. She had to be.

As I walked back to Billings with my friends, my hands shoved deep inside my pockets, the cold air clearing out my senses, it all made perfect sense. Maybe Cheyenne was the one who had ended their friends.h.i.+p. If what Noelle had said was true--that Ivy had turned down the invite to Billings--then Cheyenne might very well have cut the girl off. Nothing meant more to her than Billings. She never would have been able to accept the fact that someone didn't want to be there as much as she did. So maybe Cheyenne had ended their friends.h.i.+p, but Ivy still loved her. Maybe Ivy felt as if Billings had been responsible for the end of her friends.h.i.+p, for the end of her best friend's life. And now... now she was taking it out on me. ”Reed? Reed, where are you right now?” Tiffany asked, leaning forward to get into my line of sight as we reached the front door.

”Just thinking,” I replied. Oddly enough, I actually felt relieved. Happy. Safe. There was a theory that made sense. One that even exonerated all my friends. I couldn't believe that I had ever suspected any of them. Astrid, Shelby, even Missy. I hated Ivy for making me into a para noid freak who thought her friends were plotting against her. But at the same time, I was ec static to know that I was safe among my friends. Everything was going to be fine. ”Don't waste any of your brain s.p.a.ce on Ivy,” Tiffany said, rolling her eyes. ”The girl has completely lost it.” She yanked open the first door and used her electronic key to get through the second.

”You guys want to hang out for a while?” Rose asked as we all shed our coats in the foyer.

”Actually, I think I'm just going to go check my e-mail and go to bed,” I replied. ”It's been a long weekend.”

I trudged up the stairs to my room, Constance and Sabine trailing behind me, gabbing about Ivy and whether she could possibly be a killer. I tried to tune them out, but they were far too loud. ”I never liked the girl. The way she walks around here acting like she runs the place,” Sabine said. ”And she looks like a witch. With that pointy face and the dark hair and all the black clothes,” Constance added. ”Honestly? It's like The Wizard of Oz. Cheyenne was the good blond witch all in pink, and Ivy's the scary, psycho witch all in black.” Sabine paused for a moment. ”But in that story, the good witch survived and the bad witch melted.” ”Maybe we should go throw some water on her and see what happens,” Constance said flatly as they followed me into our room. As they continued to gab over on Sabine's side, I opened my com puter with a sigh and brought up my e-mail. Instantly, my heart stopped beating. I had an email from Dash. Right there at the top of the page. It was t.i.tled ”Long overdue,” and it had been sent from a new e-mail address. Apparently he had wised up about his girlfriend's e-mail know-how.

Finally. Finally something. The guy sure took his dear, sweet time. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the girls were occupied, then started to sit down in my chair. I was about halfway to seated, when the chair and the whole world dropped out from under me. Right beneath Dash's e-mail was an e-mail from Cheyenne. And beneath that another. And beneath that another. I shakily reached for the mouse and scrolled down. Her name filled the whole page. It filled the entire page after that. And another. And another. The more I clicked, the more my eyes stung, watering until I couldn't focus anymore. I had blocked Cheyenne's address. Changed my own. I had stopped this. How had these e-mails gotten through. How? Was it Ivy? Was she some kind of computer hacker? Was she trying to show me that she could get to me no matter where I was?A bubble rose up in my throat and before I could stop it, a strangled sound came right out. I slapped my hand over my mouth, shut the browser, and quickly powered down the computer. But it was too late. Sabine and Constance had stopped talking. ”Reed? Are you all right?” ”M'just... sick,” I mumbled. And it was true. The second I spoke I felt dinner coming back up. I raced past them into the bathroom, slammed the door, and fell to my knees in front of the toilet. After retching for what felt like an eternity, I flushed and put my b.u.t.t on the floor, shoving myself back against the wall, wondering if I'd ever really feel safe again.

The morning was always better. By the light of day everything seemed fine. Nightmares seemed impossible. Still, I didn't go near my computer. As much as I wanted to know what Dash's e-mail was all about, I couldn't handle Cheyenne's name staring me in the face like that. That was no way to start a day. At breakfast everyone was discussing the upcoming fund-raiser, whom they might bring as dates, what they were going to wear, where they would stay in the city that night, when Portia came whirling in with a copy of the New York Post. ”O. M. G.!” she said dramatically, whipping the paper open and slapping it down in front of me.

”Look at this!” It was the infamous Page Six gossip column, and staring out at me was a large, full-color photo of Kiran Hayes in a hot pink dress, draped all over some Adonis and smiling seductively at the camera.

She had grown her dark hair out, and it fell in perfect waves over her tan shoulders and back. Gorgeous as always. ”What is this?” I asked, pulling it closer as Noelle, Tiffany, and Astrid rose out of their seats to better see. ”Check the cap!” Portia instructed, pointing a man icured nail at the text beneath. '”International It Girl Kiran Hayes celebrates her eighteenth birthday in style at the Ritz in Amsterdam,'” I read aloud. ”'But don't fret, kiddies. Word is Miss Hayes will be bringing the party stateside next month. Think you're a VIP? You'll know if you receive an invite.'” ”Sweet!” Tiffany said, sitting down again. ”There's nothing like one of Ki ran's birthday parties.” ”She didn't have one last year,” I pointed out. ”That was because of all the... unpleasantness,” Noelle said dismissively. ”Did you guys know she was planning a par ty here?” Vienna asked from the other end of the table. ”No,” I replied.

”Of course,” Noelle said at the same time, digging out a spoonful of yogurt and berries from her bowl. She looked at me from across the table and smirked. Of course she knew and I didn't. Of course. But did that mean I wasn't going to be invited? That I didn't rate as one of Kiran's VIPs? ”So, Reed. Have you thought about who you're going to bring to the fund-rais er?” Noelle asked, smoothly changing the subject as she took another bite of breakfast. ”Do I really need a date?” I asked. ”I'm going to be busy enough as it is without babysitting some guy.” ”Are you kidding? Of course you need a date,” Portia said as she slid into a chair at the other end of the table. ”How would it look if the chairwoman of the event didn't have a date?

Answer? N.G.”

Great. I had no idea people cared about such things. I glanced over at a small table near the corner, where Josh and Ivy sat together and alone, talking urgently over their untouched meals. Suddenly I felt hollow inside.Were the rumors that Josh and Ivy were together true, or did it just look that way? Part of me wished I knew for sure, but a larger part of me wanted to know nothing--wanted to be able to keep living in my own little world. A world in which he was still pining over me. He couldn't have started up with someone else so fast. Especially not a girl like her. And he certainly couldn't have been kissing Ivy in front of Pemberly. He was Josh. A gentleman. A thoughtful, caring, sensitive person. He just couldn't. As I watched, Josh leaned even closer to Ivy and hot anger shot through me. Did he really have to be so public about it? Did he really have to rub my face in whatever he and Ivy had? I was going to find a date who would put Josh to shame. I would do it if it killed me. And I was also going to find some way to prove that Ivy had been stalking me. He could never be with her if he knew that. Right? My phone trilled, knocking me out of my daze. I fished it out of my bag quickly and checked the screen. The call was coming from the manager of the St. Sebastian.

”It's Cheryl Wallace,” I told Noelle. Her brows knit as I answered it, which gave me a thump of foreboding. Did this mean that something was wrong? ”h.e.l.lo?” I answered. ”h.e.l.lo, Miss Brennan. This is Cheryl Wallace from the Saint Sebastian,” a woman's voice said pleas antly. ”How are you this morning?” ”Fine. How are you?” I asked, confused. ”Well, I have some bad news, unfortunately,” she said. I automatically turned away from my friends, swing ing my legs into the aisle between tables. ”Bad news?” I repeated, lowering my voice. ”Yes. I'm afraid there was some sort of snafu with our scheduling program,” Cheryl said. ”It seems your date has been booked for weeks.” ”What?” I blurted loudly. ”No. That's not possible.” Ev eryone at the two Billings tables fell silent, as did half the dining hall. I placed my hand on my forehead as my heart began a panicked dance inside my chest.

”I'm so sorry, Miss Brennan, but there's nothing I can do.” ”No. There must be something. The fund-raiser is less than a week away,” I said desperately, closing my eyes against the cu rious stares. ”We signed a contract. We... we put down a deposit.” ”Which will be refunded in full, of course,” she said politely. ”You're not getting it,” I replied, my voice so tense I barely recognized it. ”The invitations have already been sent. You can't--” ”Again, Miss Brennan. I'm very sorry. But--” ”Don't tell me there's nothing you can do!” I shouted. ”Who booked the place? Maybe I can call them and convince them to--” ”I'm afraid I can't share that informa tion,” Cheryl said, clucking her tongue. ”But you have to! There has to be something I can--”

”Please accept my apologies, Miss Brennan. I'll put your check in the mail today.” With that, she hung up and I started to hyperventilate. I placed my phone on the table and slowly turned around, resting my elbows on either side of it. I stared down at the screen, willing it to ring again. Willing Cheryl to call back and tell me it was all a joke. A misunderstanding. But the phone lay still and silent. ”Reed, what is it? What's going on?” Tiffany asked. ”She said... she said the place had already been booked. They messed up,” I replied, looking up at all of them desperately. ”She says there's nothing she can do.”

The Billings Girls stared back at me, shocked. I had let them down. I had let them all down. ”There goes the fund-raiser,” Missy said finally. ”And Billings,” Rose added, looking ill. Tears stung my eyes. What were we going to do? I had let them all down. Every one of them. I was going to go down in history as the president who killed Billings. ”All right, all right. Every one calm down,” Noelle said loudly. ”I happen to have a backup plan.” ”You do?” Vienna asked. ”You do?” I echoed, feeling a rush of hope. Noelle looked at me and folded her arms in front of her on the table. ”I booked Loft Blanc,” she told me. There was something approach ing an apology in her eyes. ”Just in case.” ”You what?” I blurted, my relief turning to anger.

”Why would you-” ”Just in case,” she repeated. ”When you throw together an event this fast, it's always good to have a backup.”

My skin started a slow burn. All day Sunday she had acted as if she had come around to my way of thinking. That the St. Sebastian was the best venue for our event. But all the while, she had already gone behind my back and booked the place she had wanted. She had been hoping something like this would happen. I could see it in her eyes. ”Noelle! You are a ge nius!” London cried, getting up and hugging Noelle from behind. ”What would we do without you?” Vienna added.

Suddenly everyone was getting up, congratulating Noelle. A few people even golf clapped for her achievement. And I had to sit there and watch it all. Watch them thank her for saving my a.s.s. Watch her preen at the attention. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, it was always Noelle who saved the day. Always Noelle who got the credit.

DIABOLICAL.

”I am so glad Noelle had a backup plan,” Constance gushed as she slid into the seat next to mine in calc cla.s.s that afternoon. ”I swear, when you said that place had been booked al ready, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I mean, to get into Billings and then have it shut down? That would be so not fair.” ”Yeah. Thank G.o.d for Noelle,” I grumbled halfheartedly, tak ing out my heavy calculus tome. Sabine and Missy looked at each other as they took their own seats nearby, and both scoffed in unison. That was interesting. I was pretty sure I'd nev er seen those two connect on anything. Ever. ”What?” I asked warily. The rest of the cla.s.s room started to fill in around us, but Mr. Crandle hadn't arrived yet. ”You know that Noelle booked the St. Sebastian herself,” Sabine said, perching on the edge of her chair. ”Who else has the money to pay for the venue and bribe them to lie to you?” My heart tumbled down along my rib cage. ”What are you talking about? What do you mean, lie?” Missy laughed and shook her head as she opened her notebook. It was all I could do to keep from elbowing her in the face.

”We were there, Reed. We all saw their schedule. There was nothing booked for this Satur day,” Sabine said in a soothing tone, like she was explaining a deathly diagnosis to a delicate cancer patient. ”The only way this could have happened would be if someone called up after we booked it and offered them more money.” ”No,” I said, shaking my head, even as my cheeks turned pink with irritation. ”She wouldn't do that.” I might have been irritated that Noelle always seemed to manage to save the day, but I couldn't believe she'd actually plot against me. That she would set up a situation just so that she would have to swoop in and fix things. ”Yeah. No way,” Constance agreed. ”Oh, please. Would you wake up already?” Missy said incredulously. ”Did you not go to school here last year? What would Noelle not do to get her way? ” ”Nothing,” Sabine agreed. ”She couldn't handle the fact that you made all the deci sions this weekend, so she set up a problem so that she could fix it. Now she looks like the hero.” ”It's perfect, really,” Missy added as Mr. Crandle entered the room, dropping his leather briefcase on his desk. ”Diabolical, but perfect.” ”No. I can't believe she would orchestrate something like this,” I said. ”I just--” ”You're clouded by your friends.h.i.+p,” Sabine whispered, leaning toward me. ”But I can see her for what she really is, and trust me, that girl doesn't care about anyone but herself.”

Before I could respond, she turned and resolutely faced the front of the room, unwilling to hear more. I glanced at Constance, who simply shrugged. ”Everyone kindly open your books to page one hundred fifteen,” Mr. Crandle announced as he started writing an equation on the board. ”I hope you're all ready to concentrate, because this is going to be an intense day.”

Tell me about it. I sighed and opened my book, trying to put thoughts of Noelle and the fundraiser out of my mind, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about Sabine's last words. That Noelle didn't care about anyone but herself. I was starting to think she might be right.