Private 8 - Revelation (18 page)

"Wow. That was cold," Sabine said.

"She deserves it," I told Sabine, my tone grim. "For everything she's done to me, to Cheyenne... she deserves much worse."

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SO READY

That night I hummed to myself as I put the final touches on my new-and-improved gift for Josh. I hadn't felt so at peace in my room since moving into Pemberly. In fact, I had lived a long while in Billings without feeling this calm and secure. But now, the police finally had my stalker in custody. For the first time in weeks, I was certain that nothing bad could happen. For the first time in weeks I felt truly free.I was washing my hands of this mess. Ivy was now officially the problem of the Easton Police Department.

I slipped Josh's gift into the small red box I had purchased at the stationery store that afternoon, then affixed the glossy white bow to the top. Satisfied that I had done the best I could, I turned and checked myself out in the mirror on the back of my door. I smiled at my reflection. My long brown hair was pinned up on one side, while the other fell in sultry waves over my shoulder. I wore black mascara and dark red lip gloss I had picked up on that fateful fund-raiser

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weekend in New York. Sparkling in my earlobes were the diamond earrings Walt Whittaker had given me last year. The effect was totally simple and totally glam. But the best part was the dress. I was wearing the red Nicole Miller dress Portia had bought for me all those weeks ago. It had only been worn once before, when I'd gone on that awful date with Hunter Braden, and I had a feeling he wouldn't remember it at all, considering how very self-absorbed he was. The Billings Girls would all remember it, of course, and that was exactly how I wanted it. Wearing this dress meant they hadn't beaten me. Wearing this dress meant I had risen above.

I just hoped Portia didn't try to tear it off me like the ugly stepsisters had done to Cinderella. That would not be pretty.

There was a knock at the door and I quickly opened it. Sabine and Constance stood in the hallway, cuddled into their long wool coats. Constance's red hair was pulled back from her face with wisps hanging down around her cheeks, and she wore more eye makeup than I had ever seen her attempt before. Sabine was looking as natural as ever, but she had woven a small braid into her hair on the right side and clasped it with a tiny rhinestone clip.

"Reed, you look gorgeous," Sabine gushed, looking me up and down.

"Ready to party?" Constance asked, pushing herself up on her toes in excitement.

A little thrill ran right through my chest. This was the first night of the rest of my life. I grabbed Josh's gift and my coat on my way out the door.

"You have no idea how ready."

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THE EASTON HOLIDAY DINNER

"So, is anyone making a toast?" Constance asked, taking a sip of red punch."No way," Sonal replied with a snort. "I could never get up in front of the entire school and do that."

"I know. Me neither," Constance said. "Worst nightmare." Much to my shock, Constance had stayed by my side for the entire cocktail hour--or mocktail hour, I suppose, since only sodas, punch, and sparkling cider were served. Maybe Sabine's bravery was rubbing off on her. Whatever the cause, I appreciated it. In fact, before long I was surrounded by friends. Constance, Sabine, Marc, Astrid, Diana, Sonal, Shane. For a leper I was doing quite well for myself.

"Really getting a lot of mileage out of that dress, aren't you, Reed?" Shelby asked, looking me up and down with a sneer as she, Portia, and the Twin Cities strolled by. Shelby was wearing a royal

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blue dress I had never seen before, with an asymmetrical, off-the-shoulder neckline and full skirt.

"It is the only one she's got," Portia added. She was, as ever, sporting her signature green- -a slim-cut dress that showed off every single curve.

There was definitely a comeback in there. Something about how Portia only ever wore the same nasty color, but they sidled off before I could respond, laughing happily at their lame insults.

Okay. So maybe I wasn't doing perfection.

"Ignore those cows," Astrid said, laying a cold hand on my bare arm. She was as funky as ever in a punked-out pink dress with black and purple netting over the skirt and a pillbox hat. Her shoes were black lace high-top Converse. "Instead, let's discuss how the Crom has completely transformed the cafeteria. I expect it took him ages to plan all this. Perhaps he has a soft side after all."

"I kind of doubt the last part, but it is pretty spectacular," I admitted. On every window hung a real fir wreath decorated with pine-cones and red ribbons, and real evergreen swags were draped along the walls, strung with white lights as well, filling the room with the comforting scent of fresh pine. All the chairs were covered in green velvet and secured with red bows, and at each china place setting was a small favor of Godiva chocolate, presented in a little red sleigh. But the real main attraction was the clothes. The students of Easton definitely knew how to clean up. Everywhere I looked there were velvet frocks and pearls, wrist-length gloves and kitten heels, tuxes and silk

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scarves. It was one big constant-motion fashion show. Even the flasks the guys were hiding in the pockets of their jackets were superchic. Monogrammed or platinum or leather or, in Dominic Infante's case, Gucci.

And then, of course, there was the tremendous Christmas tree in the center of the room. The star at the top nearly brushed the panes of the skylight, and every sparkling ornament on the tree was perfectly placed. White lights twinkled and winked from its boughs, and the garland was made of hand-strung popcorn and cranberries.

"Do you think the garland is real?" I asked.

"It is. I already checked," Marc said, popping an hors d'oeuvre into his mouth.

"How did you check?" Constance asked.

Marc turned pink and shrugged one shoulder. "I ate a kernel."

Everyone laughed and I let myself bask in the total peace and tranquility of the moment. For the first time in so long I felt normal. I felt social. I felt warm. Over by the tree, students were lining up to add their gifts to the pile, which was now overflowing into the aisle between tables in both directions. "So, who did you get in the gift thing?" Astrid asked me.

I glanced at Marc, who looked quickly away. "I'll never tell," I replied.

"Oh, rubbish! It's over now. You have to tell," Astrid wheedled.

I blushed and shook my head. The last thing I wanted was for all my friends to be watching Josh when he opened his present. "Nope! Never!"

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"God. I wish I had been there," Sonal whispered behind me.

"Been there for what?" I asked, tuning in and hoping to distract Astrid.

Sonal looked at Diana and Shane as if she had been snagged.

"When they dragged Ivy off," Shane answered for her. "Did you see anything?"

I glanced around to see if anyone was listening in, then took a step closer to Sonal, drawing the entire group into a tighter circle. I had never been big on gossip and rumors, but for once there was a story I was dying to spread. If only because this story might finally prove to everyone that I was innocent.

"Not much," I admitted. "But Sabine and I heard the whole thing. It sounded like they were pretty convinced she had something to do with Cheyenne's death."

Of course, I'd heard nothing of the sort. But I knew what I knew. "The girl is definitely guilty," Sabine put in. "You could see it all over her face."

"You must be freaking out, Reed," Constance said. "I mean, Josh is dating her."

"I know," I replied, my heart sinking.

I looked over my shoulder again and immediately found Josh in the mingling throng. I had been paying attention to his whereabouts all night. He had been sticking close to his usual crowd, Trey, Weston Bright, and the other guys from Ketlar--and seemed to be having a good time, considering his girlfriend was in police custody. Was it because he couldn't care less about Ivy, or because

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he was so convinced that nothing would come of it? So convinced of her innocence.

Oh, how I hoped it was the former.

"Well, at least it gets you off the rumor mill," Diana said with a small smile. "You must be happy about that."

"You have no idea," I told her with a laugh.

Soon everyone would know that I was innocent. Soon Noelle and Josh would realize that I had been right all along. That I had saved them both from being hurt. Soon everything would be back the way it was supposed to be.

Well, almost the way it was supposed to be. I spotted Amberly on the other side of the room, wearing a light blue sheath and holding court with Missy and Lorna. With her around, there would be no room for me in Billings, even if Noelle miraculously decided to forgive me. Part of me wanted to grab the cocktail sauce from a passing waiter's tray, go over there, and dump it over her platinum blond head--get back at her for destroying my room the way she had, for invading my privacy, trashing my things, trying to take my place. But I simply clenched my fingers and told myself to chill. Now was not the time or the place. There was always tomorrow for a catfight. Tonight I was focusing on the positive.

A sudden tinkle of silver bells brought the conversation in the room to a complete halt. Headmaster Cromwell stepped up in front of the tree. For a man who had just watched two of his students get hauled off by the cops, he was looking calm and composed. Happy, even.

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"If everyone will take your seats, the first course is about to be served," he announced, with the proud air of someone who was pulling off the event of the season.

"I'll see you guys later?" I said to Marc, Sabine, and the other Billings Girls.

"Definitely," Constance replied.

With a smile, I wove my way toward the Pemberly table with Diana, Shane, and Sonal. It was so nice to feel as if I had friends again. But at the same time, my heart started to pound with trepidation. The start of the meal meant that the moment of truth was coming. I hugged myself and hoped that I was prepared. Before long, my fate would be decided.

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*** "So I just want to say 'Hells, yeah' to the members of the men's soccer team!" Trey announced, gesturing so vehemently with his right hand that his sparkling cider sloshed over the side of the glass in his left. "Thanks for the most kick-ass senior season ever!"

The members of the team, peppered throughout the room, went wild, and everyone else joined in, cheering for Trey's toast as he downed his drink. Headmaster Cromwell, however, didn't look all that pleased.

"Thank you, Mr. Prescott," he said, stepping up behind Trey and laying a heavy hand on his shoulder. "That was very eloquent," he said sarcastically.

Trey glanced at the headmaster, chagrined, and dropped into his chair. Across the table from Trey, Josh shook his head and smirked. The speech was kind of out of character for one of the most mature guys on campus. I wondered if Trey had brought along his own flask, or if he had been sipping from someone else's.

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"And now, moving on to Pemberly..." Headmaster Cromwell stepped up to the end of our table. My breath caught in my throat and instantly, my body temperature doubled. This was it. Now or never. "Would any of the Pemberly ladies care to make a toast?"

Everyone at the table glanced at everyone else. I was just starting to think it might be wise to wait for someone else to go first, when it became clear that no one had any intention of saying a thing. I suppose the women of Pemberly weren't exactly an extroverted crowd. Headmaster Cromwell's lips pursed in annoyance, and suddenly I found myself raising my hand at table level.

"I have something to say."

Instantly, murmurs sprung up at all the surrounding tables and quickly spread the length and breadth of the room. My heart started to pound in earnest. "What's she going to say?" Amberly whispered. "Thanks for letting me get away with murdering one of my friends?'"

Right. So even though the news of Ivy's arrest had spread across campus like a bad stomach flu, I guess not everyone believed in her guilt quite yet. I had expected the headmaster to be relieved that Pemberly wasn't going to entirely let him down. Instead, his face clouded over. I really was not his favorite person on campus.

"Fine, then," he said gruffly. He lifted his chin and announced to the room, "Miss Reed Brennan would like to make a toast!"

The level of buzz in the room grew as I awkwardly pushed my chair back and stood. This was it. My big, brilliant win-Noelle-back plan. I had publicly humiliated her with the Dash video. The only way I

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could think of to make up for it was to publicly praise her.

My knees were quaking like a Jell-O mold in an earthquake, and for the first time, I was annoyed with myself for not bringing my notes along. I had thought it would be more sincere if I spoke from the heart, without the aid of index cards. But now that I could see the disapproving faces at the Billings table, I couldn't remotely recall what I'd been going to say.

My heart pounded quick and shallow. Everyone here was against me. I couldn't do this. What was I thinking? In about two seconds people were going to start hurling half-eaten rolls at me.

Then I looked at Noelle. She was watching me with amused interest, her arm crooked over the back of her chair, her legs crossed at the knee, the full, scalloped skirt of her black dress draping elegantly toward the floor. This was for her. I had to remember that. This was all for her. "I would like to toast Noelle Lange," I announced in a loud, clear voice.

That really got the room going. Chairs squeaked, people laughed, incredulous voices filled the room. How was I ever going to get them to shut up? I glanced at Sabine helplessly, but her mouth was hanging open in total shock. Constance and Astrid looked blown away as well. All right, so I hadn't warned them that this was coming, but couldn't they understand? Didn't they know that sometimes a girl just had to lay it all on the line?

"Excuse me!" Headmaster Cromwell shouted. "I expect the same silence and courtesy for each and every one of your schoolmates!"