Our car pulled up in front of a massive smoked-glass door. Outside stood two guys who looked like they’d just gone AWOL from the Marine Corps. They stared us down as we toppled out of the car, giddy with triumph and champagne.
“Ladies,” the taller and darker of the two said, stepping in front of the door. “Gentlemen,” he added with a sneer, as Gage cackled at one of Lance’s jokes. He’d been getting messier and gigglier with every swig of alcohol. “You have something to show us?”
“Sure do!” I trilled, stepping forward and holding out my hand.
The guy checked out my ring. There was a brief moment of total silence in which I was sure he was going to spot it as a fake—that Ungari had somehow outed us by making our
L
s too big or using the wrong gold or something—but then he nodded to his buddy, who turned and opened the door. I twirled by him, laughing with relief. God, I wished Ivy had been there just then, watching as we so easily crashed her party. Every time I thought about her smug face, about the fact that she’d spent the past few weeks strolling around campus, believing she’d outwitted us, it made me want to throw something. I couldn’t believe she had tried to keep her own classmates out. Including the guy to whom she was currently giving up the goods in front of the entire school on a daily basis. She must have worn a wig to order the invites and tokens, thinking a disguise and a bad alias would be enough to hide her secret. What, exactly, was her inner malfunction?
If she hated Easton and everyone there so much, why the hell had she come back?
But no matter. We had the last laugh. I could not wait to see her face when I finally did find her.
I hung by the door until my friends made it past the Legacy police. Once Josh and all the Billings Girls were through, I stepped inside.
The center hall stretched to the sky, open to all five floors. High above, connecting the east side of the third floor to the west, was a catwalk about four feet wide, with chrome guardrails on either side. Directly above that, in the center of the high ceiling, was a perfectly flat, square skylight, which afforded a stunning view of the stars above. Toward the back of the huge hall two spiral staircases stood, stretching, up, up, up into the house, all the way to the roof. Everything was black and white, except for the red marble floor beneath our feet, the framed modern artwork on the walls, and the incredible multicolored modern sculpture—all twisted metal and sharp angles—directly in the center of the room. Around it, waiters and waitresses delivered iridescent cocktails to the couture-clad girls and tuxedoed guys. Laughter and chatting filled the well-lit room. For now it was all very civilized. The real Legacy had yet to begin.
“This is unlike anything I could have possibly imagined,” Sabine said, sufficiently awed.
She hadn’t seen anything yet. But why spoil the surprise?
“I hate to say I told you so—”
“But you were right. I have a feeling this is going to be a night I’ll never forget,” Sabine said earnestly. “Thank you, Reed.”
I grinned. Better late than never.
As we moved further into the wide-open center hall, deep, melodious bells chimed all over the house, echoing loudly throughout the room. Signaled by the chiming, all the guests poured in from the outdoor decks, and the noise level grew to a deafening pitch. Somewhere nearby, Constance squealed. I turned and saw her throwing herself into Whittaker’s arms, the skirt of her green gown kicked up so high I got a glimpse of a purple thong.
Constance wore thongs. Shocking. I turned away, not because of her creamy white butt cheeks, but because I was sure that if Whit was there, Dash couldn’t be far behind. And I wasn’t ready for that. Not by a long shot.
The bells all went silent at once. The guests looked around in curious anticipation. There was a distinct sizzle in the air.
“What’s this?” Sabine asked.
“The welcome,” Noelle said, sidling up to join us. She tilted her head toward the sky, and there was Ivy Slade, striding out onto the catwalk above our heads. She wore a black-and-white striped gown with a sweeping train and a variegated hem, each stripe trailing out a bit longer than the last. Covering her eyes was a huge black feather mask, the plumes of which stretched at least two feet above her head on the right side. Her face was pale, her lips a deep red. She looked like something right out of the pages of
Vogue
.
From behind her back, she lifted a large silver bell and shook it. The chime echoed throughout the house. Everyone fell silent.
“Welcome one, welcome all!” Ivy called out, looking imperiously
around the room. “It is my honor to host this year’s Legacy and to welcome you all into the inner sanctum. Of course, this year, the inner sanctum is all around us.”
She opened her arms wide to encompass the entire house.
“On each floor you will find myriad pleasures to tickle your senses,” she continued, striding along the catwalk as she looked down on us all. “So come. Enjoy. Immerse yourself. And remember . . . what you see here . . . what you do here . . . who you touch here . . . who you screw here . . .”
She paused, slyly eyeing the now laughing crowd.
“
All
will remain here,” she said. “For this is the Legacy, my friends. You are the chosen.”
“Yeah, but chosen by whom?” Noelle muttered.
“So make peace now with whomever you worship and never . . . look . . . back!”
All the lights in the house were doused. There was a general gasp, a momentary panic, and then thousands of moving strobes flicked on, accompanied by a driving dance beat, flooding the room with an insane whirl of color. The cheer was intense. The dancing began instantly. People shouted. Hands grasped. Drinks were poured. In all the mayhem I almost lost sight of Ivy, but she was coming our way. Descending the steps. Holding her gown up with both hands as she nodded to her guests like she was the queen and they mere peasants. Before she could even hit the floor, I was shoving through the crowd.
“Reed!” Josh shouted. “Where are you—”
“I’ll be right back!” I replied.
Through sheer force of will, and major bicep strength, I arrived at the foot of the spiral staircase at the exact same moment as Ivy.
“Ivy Slade!” I shouted.
A screeching girl in a hot pink gown ran by me, driving her heel into my foot as she was pursued by some guy who had already lost his shirt. I barely even noticed the pain. Ivy looked at me quizzically.
“Yes?”
I whipped off my mask. Her reaction was filmworthy. Her jaw dropped. Her skin grew waxen. And then, shock over, a steel veil descended over her eyes.
“Who let you in?” she said through her teeth, swooping toward me like a black-and-white bat.
I lifted my hand. Under the lights, my gold Legacy ring flashed red, then pink, then green, then yellow. Ivy was hypnotized.
“Amanda Hold?” I said, savoring the total shock on her face. “And thanks ever so much for inviting
all
of Billings,” I added, putting on a sickly sweet voice. “How very generous of you. I’m sure we’re all going to have just the most fun!”
And then, satisfied that I had obliterated her big night, just as she had tried to obliterate Easton’s, I backed away with a smile and melted into the crowd.
Hours passed. Or maybe it was minutes. I wasn’t sure. I was drunk. It was all sweat and bass and bodies and hands and silk and skin and blur. I hadn’t seen Josh in forever. Not since I’d left him to find Ivy. But I hadn’t moved. Not really. I’d spent the whole night on the same floor, dancing with whatever configuration of friends was there at any given moment. I didn’t need to visit the druggie floor. Didn’t want to visit the sexy floor unless I first found Josh. So why move? Why not just drink and dance and sweat? If Josh wanted to find me, he could find me.
Why didn’t he want to find me?
“Reed! Here!”
My vision blurred as I spun around, and I held my head until it passed. Okay. That was weird. Perhaps I should slow down on the alcohol intake. When my sight finally cleared, Sabine appeared before me, holding out a frothy pink drink. Three, actually. One for me, one for herself, and one for Vienna. She was having a good time. I could
tell. Her forehead shone with sweat and her eyes were bright. Because she wanted to check out every inch of the party, she’d been getting drinks for all of us all night and exploring as she went. The Legacy had officially won her over.
“This party is unbelievable!” she shouted, pushing her straw around as some girl dragged a guy off the dance floor, his hand already working down the top of her dress.
“I know! This is exactly what I needed!” I replied. Then hiccupped. Then laughed. My brain felt like it was bobbing happily on a river of pink froth. “Isn’t it fabulous to just not have to think?”
Sabine smiled. “Absolutely.”
Just then, a pair of arms encircled my waist. I was about to throw them off—random guys had been attempting to grope me all night—but then I felt Josh’s familiar, soft lips on my neck.
“Hey!” I cheered, turning around in his arms. A bit of my drink sloshed over onto his sleeve. My vision blurred again and I had to grasp him to keep from falling sideways. How much alcohol was in those pink things, anyway? “Where’ve you been?”
“Around,” Josh said. He leaned right into my ear, so I could hear him without him yelling. “Hey. You wanna get out of here?”
Something stirred deep, deep down below. I smiled. “Like, up to the roof?”
Word had traveled fast that there were several tents set up on the roof, for those more modest partiers who didn’t want to grind with each other in a group setting—which was apparently what was going on up on floor three. I so didn’t want to know.
Josh’s expression darkened a bit. I blinked. What happened?
“No. I mean, like, get out of here. Go. Head home,” he said.
I stepped back unsteadily, and his arms fell away. He had to be kidding me. We’d just gotten there! Hadn’t we?
“Really? You want to leave?” I asked.
“Who wants to leave?” Vienna shouted, slinging her arms around me. Her purple dress had slipped so low there was definite visible nipplage. “You can’t leave! No one’s even hurled yet! My money’s on Constance. She’s such a lightweight and—”
“Not now, Vienna,” I said, throwing her off.
“Fine. Buzzkill,” she griped, dancing away.
Josh’s hands were in his pockets now. “I just . . . I’m not into this, I’m sorry. It’s the same as it is every other year and I’m just . . . bored. Can’t we go somewhere and be alone?”
He said this in a leading way and my mind flashed back to the woods. To my half-naked self. To him suggesting we bag the Legacy and stay home and, it was implied, have sex. Him and me. Our first time. He wanted it to be tonight.
But why? Why now? Why tonight? Was it simply because he didn’t want to be here? Was he trying to find the one thing he could dangle in front of me to make me actually leave with him?
It was so manipulative. So . . . passive-aggressive. So . . . not Josh. And something inside of me snapped.
“Why tonight?” I demanded. “We can
be alone
practically every other night of the year! Why do you have to do this now?”
Josh’s eyes flashed. “I thought . . . I mean,
you
said ‘soon,’
remember? I thought . . .” He looked at the ground, frustrated. Some big, thumb-headed guy careened into his side and Josh shoved him away without a glance. “Or is drowning in Fuzzy Navels suddenly more important?”
“No! I meant it. I meant
soon
,” I replied as I dodged another pair of lethal high heels. The bumping, grinding, raucous atmosphere was not making this conversation easier. Neither was the fact that my head was starting to pound in time with the beat of the music. I was having a hard time focusing on Josh’s face. I took a deep breath and concentrated. “Just . . . not now. Why do you want to make me leave? You knew how much I wanted to be here tonight. You knew—”
“And
you
knew I
didn’t
want to come here, but I did. Now all I’m asking you to do is leave a little early. To be with me. You’d think you’d want to be with me, considering you’re supposed to be my girlfriend. Considering, I don’t know, we’re supposed to be in love!” The thumb-head slammed into him again, laughing as he moshed with his friends. “Get a life!” Josh shouted, shoving him once more. The guy laughed and loped off. Thumb-head was not helping the situation.
“Josh, I do love you,” I shouted blearily. “You know I do! But why do I have to prove it by leaving here? Do you have any idea how much work I put in just to get us here? I don’t want to leave yet. I’m having fun!”
“This is fun?
This
is fun!?” Josh shouted back. “A bunch of drunken idiots pawing each other and acting like it’s some kind of privilege? I thought you were above all this, Reed! I thought you were better than this!”
“Better than this? This is
your
world, Josh. I’m just trying to be a part of it,” I snapped. “God! When did you get to be such a downer?”
Josh clenched his jaw and looked at me, hurt. “When did you get to be such a Billings Girl?”
The way he bit out those final two words, he may as well have said “bitch.” I felt like he’d just dug my heart out with a shovel. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them spill over.
“Screw you,” I said.
Josh stared at me. For a moment I thought he was going to walk away, but he didn’t. “I’m sick of this, Reed. This isn’t you—blowing off your friends, getting trashed, acting like you’re above everyone.”
My jaw dropped. “I do not act like I’m above everyone!”
“I don’t like what these people are doing to you, and I can’t just stand by and watch it happen. I’m sick of it. It’s time for you to choose, Reed,” he said, stepping closer to me. “It’s them or me.”
I glanced at my friends, but it took me a good couple of seconds to find them. They’d moved their dancing selves a few feet away, ostensibly to avoid the argument. Noelle laughed as she tossed her hair back. Tiffany twirled Portia under her arm. Kiki attempted to instill some form of rhythm in Constance. They were having fun. Like they were supposed to be. And I . . . I was miserable.