“Go ahead. Open it,” Whittaker said.
If I made a big stink about this, we would only draw more attention. And right now, the one person who
really
didn’t need to see this was hidden from view.
“God, Reed, what’s the hesitation?” Kiran asked. “It’s
jewelry
.”
“You’re giving her jewelry?” Josh asked, looking annoyed.
“It’s not a big deal,” Whittaker said. “Just open it, Reed.”
I smiled at Whittaker, embarrassed for both of us, and took the box. I quickly lifted the lid and removed the small black velvet box inside. My hands trembled as I struggled to crack it open. Finally it popped wide with a creak, startling me. The whole thing almost slipped out of my fingers, but I caught it just in time.
“Holy crap,” I blurted.
Everyone laughed. Sitting against the black satin were two large, square diamonds. Earrings. More expensive than anything I had ever owned, or would ever own, in my lifetime probably. Taylor and Kiran both stood on their toes to see into the box. London and Vienna both knelt on their chairs and turned around, nearly knocking each other over to get a look.
“What the hell?” London blurted, earning an admonishing whack from Vienna. London dropped back into her chair and sulked.
“Wow. Nice choice, Whit,” Kiran said. “You have a good eye.”
Whittaker beamed at the praise. “I was in town for dinner with my grandmother last night and I saw them in a shop window and I just knew you had to have them,” he said. “What do you think? Do you like them?”
Diamond earrings. My very own diamond earrings. All the other girls at the table had similar pairs. Whenever they wore them I tried not to stare, not to covet. But now I had my own. I had no idea what to say. Except why, why,
why
was he giving these to me?
“They’re . . . they’re gorgeous,” I told him. Then I screwed up every ounce of strength in my soul to add, “But I can’t accept them.”
“Sure you can,” Whittaker said, without missing a beat.
“They’re too much,” I said.
“Reed,” Noelle said through her teeth. “Don’t be rude.”
I glanced around at the girls. They were all giving me the same admonishing look. Was that what I would be doing if I didn’t take these earrings that probably could have paid for my entire tuition? If I got him back that money so that he wouldn’t be wasting it on someone who was not now, nor would ever be, attracted to him? If I refused to lead him on, would that be rude in their world?
From the death glares I was currently fielding, apparently so.
I looked up at Whit. He looked so hopeful and happy. The last
thing I wanted to do was humiliate him in front of everyone. And besides, Constance would be re-emerging from the lunch line at any second. I couldn’t let her see this. Unless I wanted to crush her.
“Thank you, Whit. This was really . . . sweet of you,” I said finally. I closed the box and placed it back inside the larger one.
“It was my pleasure,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.
Then he glanced over my shoulder. “Oh! There’s Mrs. Solerno. I haven’t seen her yet. My grandmother would kill me if I didn’t say hello.”
Who was this grandmother? And how could I get her to stop taking him into town and letting him blow his wad on ill-advised gifts?
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
Then he squeezed my shoulder and walked off.
“Wow. I guess Whit really likes you,” Ariana said the second he was gone.
“Good for Whit,” Dash said, like a proud papa.
“Moving on already, huh, Reed?” Josh asked.
My cheeks burned and everyone fell silent for a long moment. Josh’s face flushed too, as if he had just realized how hurtful his words were, and he averted his eyes.
“First of all, Hollis, Reed’s personal life is none of your business,” Noelle snapped. “Second, your little buddy bailed without so much as a warning. She has every right to move on.”
“Sorry,” Josh said. He crumpled up his napkin and threw it down. “I gotta go.”
He shoved himself up from the table, shot me an apologetic look, and walked off. For some reason, I couldn’t swallow for a solid minute. Everyone watched me and waited.
“Uh, hate to burst your bubble, everyone,” I said finally, tremulously. “But Whittaker and I are just friends.” I quickly stashed the earrings in the bottom of my bag.
“Shyah, right,” Gage said, sucking on his soup spoon. “ ’Cause I buy all my friends five-thousand-dollar earrings for no reason.”
My mind spun. Five thousand dollars. Five
thousand
dollars.
“Come on, new girl. Give the poor guy a shot,” Dash wheedled, popping a few grapes into his mouth. “He deserves to get a little.”
Noelle whacked his arm with the back of her hand and all the guys snickered.
“Ha ha,” I said, pretending to focus again on my book. “Sorry to disappoint, but we really are just friends. It was
his
idea to be just friends.”
“Uh-huh,” Natasha said under her breath. Her voice gave me chills. “You just keep telling yourself that.”
“Reed.”
I kept walking, ducking my head into the wind. I couldn’t hear her. The wind was too loud. Let her believe that I couldn’t hear her.
“Reed! Reed, I know you can hear me.”
I stopped walking and turned around to face Natasha. Her curls danced around her head in the wind, giving her a very Medusa look.
“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” she said, hugging a couple of notebooks to her chest. “And I’ve let you because I was giving you time to do your job. So tell me. What have you found?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Nothing?”
I sighed and looked at my feet. “I’ve kind of had other things on my mind, Natasha,” I said, trying to sound annoyed. Annoyed and unaffected and not scared. “You know . . . school, soccer, missing boyfriend?”
Take pity. Come on. You know you want to take pity.
“Weren’t thinking about the missing boyfriend much when
you were crawling all over Whittaker, were you?” she said. “Thomas is on that e-mail list, too, you know. Do you want him to come back and find out what you really are?”
My face burned with anger. “And what’s that?”
Natasha took a step closer to me. Her eyes were amused. “A cheating, drunken slut who’s too weak to stand up and take care of herself. Maybe he’d like to know about those little baubles in your bag as well. Accepting gifts from another guy,” she said, clucking her tongue. “Yeah. You sure are the faithful, concerned girlfriend.”
I could have hit her. I could have smacked her right then and there. And I might have, if several teachers and police officers hadn’t been milling around the quad at that very moment.
“You don’t owe them anything, Reed,” Natasha said. “Do what’s right. Or you know what I’m going to have to do.”
She turned and strolled off, carefree, as if we’d been discussing the weather. When I turned around, I was face-to-face with Josh. My hand flew to my chest. I really didn’t think I could take much more of this.
“Sorry,” he said, adjusting the strap on his backpack. “I scared you.”
“It’s fine,” I said, pushing past him. I didn’t have any room for more of his jabs.
“Reed! Can I just apologize?” he asked.
I stopped and blew out a breath. Then I turned to face him.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded.
He looked almost desperate as he stepped toward me. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. It just came out.”
“Well, Noelle was right. It’s really none of your business what I do,” I told him.
“Reed, come on. Don’t say that,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because. I was hoping we could be . . . I don’t know . . . friends,” he said, lifting his shoulders. “You’re one of the only normal people at this school and I . . . I like you.”
It was such a simple, sweet statement that I felt my tension start to ebb. “You do?”
Josh smiled. He had a perfect, boyish smile. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then why did you say that?” I asked him. “It kind of stung, you know.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I can be judgmental sometimes. It’s a flaw,” he said. “I
will
work on it, though. If you’ll forgive me.”
Somehow, I found myself grinning. “Okay, fine. You’re forgiven.”
“Really? Thank you. I really am sorry—”
I held up a hand. “Let’s just not talk about it anymore, okay?”
“Fair enough. Well, better get to class.”
Right. Class. Somehow that supposedly important aspect of being here at Easton had dropped fairly low on my priority list.
“See you later?” he asked.
“Definitely,” I replied.
Then I turned and walked off smiling toward my class building. Unbelievable. In two seconds Josh Hollis had actually almost made me forget entirely about Natasha’s threats.
Almost.
My foot bounced up and down under my desk as I sat in trig class before the bell, trying to cram in some last-minute information. I shot a pathetic smile at Constance as she dropped into the seat next to mine.
“Ready for the quiz?” I asked.
“Yeah. So I have a question.” Her voice was unnaturally high-pitched. She laced her fingers together on her desk as she turned to me. “Why is Walt Whittaker giving you gifts?”
My stomach turned. This was not what I needed right now.
“You saw that?” I asked, rubbing at a sudden headache that had just sprung up between my eyes.
“
No.
Missy and Lorna did,” she replied. “I don’t believe this. Yesterday I’m pouring my heart out to you about my
feelings for him
,” she said under her breath. “And the whole time you two have a thing going on. I’m such an idiot.”
“No, Constance. It is
so
not like that,” I said. “We do not have a thing going on. There is no thing.”
“Yeah, right,” she said. “Wonder what Thomas would say if he knew about this.”
I swallowed against a dry throat. People around here really did know how to hit a girl where it hurt.
“Nothing. He would say nothing because it’s nothing.” I took a deep breath as Constance stared resolutely at the blackboard. Around us our classmates steadily filled in the empty seats. “Look, Whit may have a tiny crush on me, but that’s it. And he’s gonna get over it really fast because I swear I have
no
feelings for him.”
How could I when this thing with Thomas was still so unresolved? I thought of Josh’s accusation in the cafeteria and my insides squirmed.
But then I realized how all this looked. They had no idea that all I wanted was to see Thomas again so that I could make sure he was all right, so that I could get a little closure. How could I blame them for thinking the worst of me?
Constance sighed and glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “You swear?”
“I swear,” I said.
The ramrod-straight posture she’d been working since beginning her tirade relaxed slightly and she leaned back in her seat. Outside the door I saw our trig professor, Mr. Crandle, chatting with another teacher.
“Listen, if you like him so much, you should talk to him,” I whispered. “Maybe you guys can get together.”
Constance’s cheeks turned pink and she looked down at her
polished nails. Under her desk, she crossed her legs demurely at the ankles.
“He doesn’t even know I exist,” she said.
“I doubt that’s true. Whit doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d forget an old family friend,” I said.
“Maybe,” Constance said, biting her lip. “I don’t know. But what if he doesn’t remember me? I’d feel like such a moron.” Suddenly her entire face lit up and she lifted her head. “Wait! Maybe
you
could talk to him for me. Mention me and see what he says?”
She was too cute. Really. So cute it almost made me want to wrap her up in a pink bow and stick her in a cat carrier.
“Sure,” I told her. “I can do that.”
“Really?” she squealed, reaching over to grab my hand. “That would be
so
amazing.”
Not really. Because if I talked up Constance to Whittaker and he ended up going for her then it would exponentially benefit me. The Billings Girls might be disappointed that I didn’t land the guy who could “give me things,” but they couldn’t fault me if he fell for someone else. Plus Whit would be happy, and then I wouldn’t have to hang out with him so much and constantly be reminded of those disgusting pictures. I would be able to concentrate on what really mattered—namely, figuring out what to do about Natasha, keeping my ass in school, and finding out how to get to this Legacy thing so I could see Thomas. It was win, win, win, really. For me, Whittaker,
and
Constance.
“It’s not a problem,” I told her, adopting a benevolent smile.
“Thank you
so
much.”
Just then Mr. Crandle walked in, the other teacher trailing behind him. I hadn’t seen this guy around before and as whispers started to run rampant around the room, my heart started to pound with fear.
This was no teacher.
“Miss Brennan, this is Detective Hauer,” Mr. Crandle said. “He’d like to speak to you. Please gather your things and go with him.”
Everyone turned to gape at me as if we hadn’t all known this was coming. My hands trembled as I reached for my books. I glanced at Detective Hauer, a short, stocky man in a wrinkled shirt and cotton tie who stood at the front of the room with his hands behind his back, his razor-sharp brown eyes watching my every move.
Guilty. That was how I felt under his gaze. Guilty. But of what? Of finding a note from my ex-boyfriend? Smack on the shackles and take me to the guillotine.
I managed to rise out of my seat without my knees knocking together too much and joined the detective.
“Hello, Reed,” he said. His voice was so deep it made my bones rumble.
“Hello.”
I even
sounded
guilty.
He raised a hand to usher me out of the room ahead of him.
“You can make up the quiz tomorrow, Miss Brennan,” Mr. Crandle said helpfully as I reached the door.
Right. Because that was what I was really concerned about.