The weather was bright and crisp as Ivy and I walked across campus together to the post office to mail our taps. It was still early, the main green nearly empty. My heart was a ball of nervous excitement, and every time I looked at Ivy, she was grinning as stupidly as I was. We were really doing it. We were about to make our first real step in bringing back the Billings Literary Society. I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing out loud.
Ivy yanked open the door to the post office, letting me slip inside before her. I hurried over to the “Campus Mail Only” slot and stood next to it, impatiently waiting for her to catch up. My heart pounded like I was lining up to kick a penalty shot in the last minute of the biggest soccer game of my life.
“This is it,” I said, as Ivy paused facing me. I pulled my stack of pristine ivory-colored envelopes out of my bag and held them in both hands.
Ivy looked me dead in the eye, clutching her half of the invites, grinning. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, highlighting her pale skin and red lips. “This is where it all begins.”
We nodded, took a breath, and slipped the envelopes into the slot. Then we stood there for a moment, staring at it.
“Well. That was anticlimactic,” I said.
“Coffee Carma?” she suggested.
“Sounds good.”
We turned and nearly walked right into Noelle Lange. Both of us froze. I felt like my boyfriend had just caught me with another guy. Where the hell had she come from and how had she done it so stealthily?
“Hey, Reed,” she said. Then she looked down her nose. “Ivy.”
“Noelle,” Ivy said, lowering her voice a few octaves in a mocking way.
I bit down on my tongue to keep from giggling. Noelle’s eyes narrowed.
“You two have certainly been spending a lot of time together,” Noelle said, striding past us to her mailbox. She was wearing tall brown boots, the tops of which disappeared beneath the hem of her belted, camel-colored wool coat. Girl owned more coats than I had pairs of shoes. “Lunch and dinner yesterday. Every period between classes . . .”
“Yeah, well, we’re friends,” I said. I had caught a couple of strange looks from the Billings Girls when Ivy and I had found our own table yesterday at the dining hall, but I figured they would all understand what was going on soon enough.
“Friends?” Noelle arched one brow as she worked the combination lock. “What on earth do you two have in common?” she asked. “Aside from an intimate knowledge of Josh Hollis, of course.”
Ivy’s jaw dropped open. I almost threw up on my shoes. She did
not
just go there.
“Oh, I don’t know. We’ve both been backstabbed by you,” Ivy shot back, her dark eyes aflame. “We’ve both been deserted by Billings on occasion.”
Noelle smirked as she popped open the small gold door. “Interesting that those are your bonding points, considering what you’ve been doing behind closed doors.”
Ivy and I exchanged a look. How did Noelle have any idea what we’d been doing? But then, she knew everything, didn’t she? She’d been reminding me of that since the first day I met her. Noelle extracted her mail and blithely flipped through it before slamming the door of her box closed.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Ivy,” she said, walking casually toward us. She tucked the mail into her bag and lifted her brown hair over her shoulder. “You were not Billings material then, and you are not Billings material now.”
She delivered this criticism calmly, matter-of-factly, like she was reporting on the weather. Ivy’s ivory skin turned red so fast I actually flinched.
“You guys, listen, I know you’ve got some issues,” I said, looking from one angry face to the other. “But can’t you just try to get along? For me?”
It was as if I hadn’t even spoken. As if I wasn’t even there. The two of them simply stared at each other for a few seconds, before Ivy finally turned on her heel and headed for the door.
“I’ll be outside, Reed,” she said, shoving it open with one hand.
Noelle snorted a laugh. I turned to look at her.
“What is your problem?” I demanded.
“The problem is, Reed, she never should have been invited to join in the first place,” Noelle replied. She shook her head and sighed, as if I was just so naïve. “I hope you didn’t show her the book.”
My heart switched places with my stomach. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t. But I imagine that the person who left that thing for you wouldn’t want you sharing it with outsiders,” Noelle replied, adjusting the strap on her brown leather bag.
The door swung open and a pair of freshman girls walked in, chatting loudly. The moment they saw Noelle and I there, facing off, they stopped in their tracks, turned around, and walked right back out. Our reputation was just that intimidating, I guess, but I hardly cared. I was too busy fretting about what might happen if Noelle was right. What if whoever had given me the book was somehow keeping tabs on me and knew I’d included a non–Billings Girl in the proceedings? Would they take the book back?
I saw Noelle watching me out of the corner of her eye.
“Whatever,” I said, not wanting her to see me sweat. “If you don’t want to be involved, you shouldn’t be commenting on how I do things.”
Noelle smiled her knowing smile. “You’re right. I have better things to do with my time.”
Then she turned her back on me and started for the door. Searing hot frustration bubbled up from my very core.
“It’s going to be amazing,” I said. “At some point, you’re going to be sorry you turned me down.”
Noelle paused. She turned around and looked me in the eye. “Have fun playing pretend with your little friend.” Then she whipped around again and walked out.
Candlelight flickered on the basement walls of Hell Hall, casting eerie shadows along the hulking piles of ancient wooden desks and rickety, broken chairs. This was, apparently, the place all Easton Academy furniture came to die, but tonight, it was going to play host to the start of something new. Something amazing. Something of which the teachers and administrators, who had their offices upstairs, would never approve.
I sat atop a huge metal desk, which Ivy and I had covered with one of the old, dusty, burgundy-colored curtains we’d found in the closet. We’d used the rest of them to cover up the piles of furniture to make the room look slightly cozier. Ivy was perched at one of the fourteen desks we’d arranged in a semicircle facing me.
Tiffany arrived first. She dropped down onto the gritty floor with the dexterity of the ace basketball player she was, frowned at the covered furniture, then took a seat. Rose was next. She peeked inside the
window, smiled when she saw me, then turned around and backed through the window, dangling by her hands for a second before she let go. Lorna pretty much fell through sideways and crashed to the floor with an “oomph.” Tiffany, Rose, and I jumped up to see if she was okay, while Ivy rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Lorna whispered. Which, aside from the dirt smear on her camel coat and her obvious embarrassment, she was.
The girls arrived separately at perfect five-minute intervals. We’d planned it that way; it was Friday night, and we didn’t want to generate suspicion in any security guards, teachers, or students who might be loitering in the vicinity. After Lorna came Vienna. Then Missy, Astrid, Kiki, London, Amberly, Shelby, and Portia. They all made it through the window unscathed, except for a scraped hand here or a torn hem there. Constance was one of the last to arrive. She fumbled through the window, plummeted to the floor, and fell right on her ass. Portia, who was closest to the window, snorted a laugh but went to help. Red-faced, Constance grabbed Portia’s hand, scrambled to her feet, and looked around. When her eyes fell on me she visibly brightened and relaxed.
“Hey, Reed!” she said in full voice.
“Shhhhh!” the rest of the girls replied.
Constance’s blush deepened. She quickly took the empty desk next to Astrid, which creaked loudly as she sat down and sort of listed to the side. Constance braced her feet on the floor and held on to the desk for dear life, clearly terrified of making even more of a scene.
Five minutes passed. I looked at the window. No shadows. No
footfalls. My eyes met Ivy’s. Tiffany shifted impatiently in her seat. Shelby cleared her throat and checked her iPhone. Vienna, London, and Portia started to whisper and giggle. The solemn atmosphere we had attempted to create with the late-night meeting time and candles was deteriorating fast. The girls were starting to grow restless. And from the direction of their glances, I could also tell that the Billings Girls were wondering why Ivy was there. I glanced at the window again, growing antsy, and held my watch closer to the candle on my desk.
Nine forty-five. Noelle’s designated time had been nine thirty-five. It seemed Miss Lange had, in fact, moved on.
“All right, it looks like we’re all here,” I began, pushing myself off the desk to stand before them. Everyone looked startled, I’m sure pondering the distinct lack of Noelle. “For the past week, many of us have been wondering what’s to become of Billings. Yes, the building is gone, but for those of us who lived there, being in Billings wasn’t just about the house. It was about us. Our friendship, our sisterhood, our support of one another.”
I paused. Every pair of eyes in the room was riveted on me.
“Well, I think I’ve found a way to preserve the spirit of Billings.” I turned to slide the book off the desk, practically giddy in anticipation of their reactions to what I was about to say.
That was when the window hinges squeaked. Everyone turned to look. Noelle’s black Gucci boots backed through the opening. She eased herself down, her hands clutching the sill, and dropped to the floor, her knees barely bending as her shoes hit the ground. She
dusted off the front of her black coat, lifted her hair over her shoulder, and smiled.
“What did I miss?”
She’d shown. She’d actually shown. I looked at Ivy. Her lips were pursed and her entire body looked tense. She was going to get up and walk out. I could feel it in my bones. If I had to choose between her and Noelle . . .
Well, I didn’t want to have to do that.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I said to Noelle.
“Are you kidding? Who could ignore an invite like this?” she said, tossing her cream envelope down on my desk like it was a random scrap of paper. She eyed the book clutched in my arms, my teacher’s desk, the students’ desks and chairs gathered in front of me, and gave a wry smile. Then she turned and sat down in the very last desk at the end of the arc.
“Well, Teach?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “How about you educate us on this secret society of yours?”
“Secret society?” Astrid gasped.
“What? That’s so cool!” Kiki added.
Suddenly everyone was whispering, their chairs creaking and shifting. I glared at Noelle. She’d just swooped in here and snatched my big announcement right out from under me.
“Oops,” she mouthed.
I rolled my eyes. “You guys!
Quiet down!
” I whisper-shouted.
Everyone shushed everyone else and soon they were all facing me.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Yes, we are all here to talk
about forming a secret society. The Billings Literary Society, to be exact. It was started back in 1915 and was functioning all the way up until Easton absorbed Billings School for Girls in the 1970s.”
“How do you know all this?” Missy interrupted, her nostrils flaring in annoyance.
“Someone left this for me,” I said, lifting the book. “It’s the history of the society.”
Tiffany, Rose, and Astrid all sat forward, eying the book with a covetous gleam in their eyes.
“We may not be able to rebuild our house, but we
can
keep the spirit of Billings alive at Easton,” I said.
Just then, a door opened and closed upstairs. My heart vaulted into my throat and everyone froze. Amberly reached out and grabbed Kiki’s arm. Footsteps slowly crossed the hall overhead. I closed my eyes and prayed that whoever it was hadn’t seen the candlelight, hadn’t heard our voices. There were a few more footsteps. A slam. Then nothing. I looked down the row of terrified eyes, stopping at Noelle. She was glaring at me so hard I could practically read her thoughts: If this stupid little project of mine got her expelled, she was going to eviscerate me.
Ouch.
“Um, Reed?” Kiki said. “I vote that if we’re going to keep meeting like this, we don’t do it here.”
Everyone relaxed a bit, laughing quietly.
“Don’t worry. If everything goes as planned, we’ll only have to meet here one more time,” I told them.
“So?” Noelle said, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat back. “What
is
the plan?”
“Well, before we talk about anything else, I should tell you that the BLS will only have eleven members,” I said, my heart beating nervously. “That’s a really big rule in the book, and I’ve decided to adhere to the book completely.”
“But there are fifteen people here. For
some
reason,” Portia said, eyeing Ivy snidely.
“I know,” I replied, ignoring her pointed tone. I swallowed hard. “Four of us will not get in.”
This announcement was met with dead silence. I glanced nervously at Ivy. She lifted her chin and gave me a confident look.
“How are you going to decide who doesn’t get in?” Tiffany asked.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “The book outlines three tasks that each prospective member has to complete. The pledge mistress—that would be me—grades them. The four lowest scorers would be cut. That’s how they did it back in the day, and that’s how we’re going to do it now.”
They all exchanged dubious looks. I half expected Shelby or Portia to walk out at this point. They weren’t exactly the type of people who looked forward to being tested in any way. And I’d always had the impression that Billings didn’t mean as much to them as it did to the rest of us.
“So, if you’re all in . . .” I paused to give them one last chance to bail. But no one moved. “The first task will be held here on Monday at midnight. This is the knowledge task. I can’t give you the particulars
of how you’ll be tested, but you’re going to want to scrounge up your Easton handbooks and study them. Carefully.”