“You are?” Josh asked. His eyebrows shot up under his curls. “So am I.”
Really?
This was an unexpected and pleasant development. A warm sensation prickled over my skin. I was actually going to have a friend here. Someone to eat with. Someone to talk to. And not just someone, but Josh. The two of us. Here alone. With no one to watch us or judge and comment. Suddenly, the long four-day weekend was looking
much
better.
“What?” Dash and Gage blurted at once. “Come on, man. The Hollis Thanksgivings are legendary,” Dash added.
Josh tore his eyes away from mine and cleared his throat. I hid a smile by suddenly becoming very interested in the dance floor and fluffing my hair alongside my face.
“Not this year,” Josh said, leaning into the table to better see Gage and Dash. “My parents are stuck in Germany so the kids are going to my aunt’s house on the Cape and Lynn’s gonna be with his girl. Neither one appealed, so—”
“So you’d rather stay here,” Gage said incredulously. “Alone.”
Under the table, Josh’s fingers grazed mine. My heart spasmed and I turned my hand palm up on my thigh. Josh took it, cupping my fingers with his. The flush started at my wrist and shot straight up my arm and throughout my body. I tried my hardest not to smile.
“Yeah,” he said with a smirk, squeezing my hand. “Alone.”
The party, inevitably, got out of control. It was clear to the world that Kiran had not been the only “mourner” to smuggle in alcohol. All that was left to be determined was when the dean’s gradually simmering anger would finally go nuclear, putting an end to the evening, and whether or not there would be any repercussions. On the dance floor, Kiran, London, and Vienna twirled and whirled, falling all over one another and laughing their toned butts off. Dash was dancing with himself. Missy Thurber stepped slowly back and forth, clinging to one of the guys from my history class—even though the song playing was an upbeat one—half-asleep and drooling on his shoulder. He looked down the back of her dress, undoubtedly trying to determine whether or not he could manage to unhook her bra without her noticing. Considering her present state, I gave him two-to-one odds.
Over in the far corner, Walt Whittaker and Constance Talbot were talking with their heads bent close together. They had been
there most of the night. Every once in a while Constance would smile and blush and Whit would preen, pleased with himself. Looked like Constance had finally bagged her lifelong crush. Good for her.
“Dean Marcus has checked his watch ten times in the last three minutes,” Natasha pointed out. “What’s he waiting for?”
“He’s probably hoping we all survive until ten o’clock without anyone making a scene or passing out,” Ariana replied. “He did tell Dash we could have the room until then. This way he won’t have to go back on his word.”
“Always toeing the line, that Marcus. I bet he was a real wild man as a kid,” Josh joked.
Natasha and I laughed and Ariana smiled. We were all sitting at one of the round tables, people-watching. I felt exhausted and almost content after a night of dancing, chatting, and laughing. I barely even noticed the photos of Thomas anymore, and when I did, I refused to let them bother me. From now on, nothing Thomas-related was going to bother me.
“What the hell!?”
My eyes shot to the door. Someone was shouting. A few people ran over to see what was going on. My heart drooped. What
now
? There had been so much drama lately, they should be turning Easton into a theater-in-the-round. Someone was freaking out, but their words were unintelligible over the music. Ms. Ling, the cutesy Bradwell housemother, and Mr. Shreeber, the cross-country coach and Spanish teacher, raced over to see what was
going on. Soon most of the kids in the room were moving toward the door, jostling for a better view.
“What are you thinking?! Do you have no self-control?!”
My heart seized. I knew that voice.
“That’s Noelle,” Natasha said.
Ariana was already on her feet.
“That’s it. I can’t even look at you anymore!” Noelle shouted, storming back into the room with Ms. Ling on her heels. Noelle’s face was blotchy with rage. She looked over her shoulder at Taylor, who was pale and unsteady on her feet. “I swear to God, sometimes I don’t even know why we let you in.”
There was an audible gasp from somewhere in the crowd. A Billings Girl questioning the worth of another Billings Girl was heresy to the commoners. When alone with each other, of course, we did it all the time. But it was never done in public.
“Noelle,” Ariana gasped. Though there was no way Noelle could have heard her from halfway across the room.
Dash stepped forward and tried to take Noelle’s hand, but she snatched her arm away. She grabbed her clutch, then turned and walked out the emergency-exit door into the night. After the briefest hesitation, Ariana followed her. I had never seen her look so stunned. For a long moment, no one moved. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. Something must really have pissed off Noelle for her to have gone that ballistic in public.
Ms. Ling slipped her arm around Taylor’s shoulders and helped her back out into the hallway. Two seconds after they were
gone, Gage slid into the Great Room through the same door, hands in his pockets, looking amused and sheepish all at once. He might as well have been casually whistling.
Dash made a beeline for Gage.
“Let’s go,” Natasha said, grabbing my hand.
She, Josh, and I followed Dash into the corner with Gage. Kiran was already there.
“What the hell just happened?” Dash asked Gage.
Behind us, the music stopped and the dean announced that the party was over. A bunch of people groaned. We ignored him.
“Nothing, dude. I swear,” Gage said.
“Well, something obviously happened,” Natasha said.
Gage narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know, all right? I’m coming back from hitting the head and I see Taylor sitting on the floor in the hallway all weepy. So I ask her if she’s okay, right? I’m a gentleman.”
He pulled down on his cuffs. Kiran, Natasha, and I all scoffed. Dash shot us a silencing glare.
“So she says no, she’s not okay, and she’s all snotty and everything, so I sit down next to her and ask her what’s wrong,” Gage continued.
“Why?” Natasha asked, voicing the thought on everyone’s mind. Gage was not known for his compassion.
“Because he figured he could get some,” Josh said under his breath.
“Whatever, dude. She’s not even my type,” Gage shot back.
“Gage, what happened with Noelle?” Dash asked through his teeth.
“That’s just it, man. I have no idea. Taylor’s blubbering all over me, making no sense. She’s saying all this crap about Thomas and how sad it is and how his parents will never know what happened to him now, and all of a sudden, Noelle comes storming out and goes all Emily Rose all over the place. I swear to God, it was like she was possessed. She practically ripped the girl off the floor just so she could get in her face.”
Dash looked completely confused. Much like I felt.
“I have to go talk to Taylor,” Kiran said, turning to go.
“I’ll come,” I offered.
“No!” Kiran snapped. I flinched and she paused and took a deep breath. “Sorry. It’s just, I know her better than you do. I think I’d better go alone.”
Then she hightailed it out of there before I could even find the words to protest.
I awoke with a start, my heart racing so quickly I might have just run a mile. I was half asleep, but I had the distinct impression I had just heard a door slam. My room was one notch lighter than black. The digital clock read 5:32 a.m. Natasha was asleep on her back, her mouth hanging open. Had I dreamt it?
A bang sounded in the hall and I sat up straight. I tried to quiet my own breath and listened. Someone was moving past my door. I heard the distinct creaking of the ancient Billings House stairs. Moments later, the front door of the dorm opened, then slammed.
I quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to the window by my desk. The campus grounds were covered with a thick, wet fog, and the old-fashioned torch lamps that dotted the pathways gave off a pathetic, fuzzy glow. Down below, the grayness swirled. Someone was walking along the path. Whoever it was wore a black hat and pulled a huge suitcase on wheels behind her—huge enough for a monthlong trip. Just when I thought I’d never get a good
enough look at the lonely traveler, she stepped under one of the old-fashioned street lamps. I recognized Taylor’s blond curls.
My already racing pulse started to sprint. Where was Taylor going? It was too early to leave for break. We still had a whole day of classes. Taylor did not miss class.
Dammit. Taylor couldn’t go. Not this way. Not before anyone cleared up what had happened last night, what was going on between her and Noelle. Not before I figured out what the hell was happening with her.
As quietly as possible, I unlatched the window lock and slid the pane open a few inches. I had no idea what I was hoping to hear, but I didn’t want to miss anything that might clue me in to what was going on. Cold air rushed into the room and I clenched my teeth to keep from shivering. I could hear the wheels of Taylor’s suitcase bumping along the stone path. Then something else moved down below. My heart caught in my throat. Someone was following Taylor.
I almost shouted a warning, but in the next second I choked it back. Suddenly I recognized the trench coat, the wide shoulders. They belonged to Detective Hauer.
Why would the police be trailing Taylor? Had Hauer just been out for his morning stroll early today and happened to see her?
Taylor disappeared around Bradwell. Hauer followed. Moments later I heard the pop of a car door closing. Lights flashed against the wall of fog. A sleek black town car swung into view between Bradwell and Dayton, then slipped down the hill toward the Easton gates.
I stood there and waited for Hauer to reappear, but he never did. He had gone off in another direction, or he was hiding out somewhere . . . or he had gotten in the car with Taylor. But why? What was going on?
I sat down on the edge of my bed, feeling suddenly overcome. There I sat and listened until the sounds of the car engine faded into the fog and the car officially vanished, taking Taylor and about a hundred unanswered questions with it.
There was no going back to sleep. I tried to do work until everyone else started to wake up and start the morning ritual of blow-drying, plucking, and garment-swapping, but I just ended up staring at the wall.
All through breakfast I waited for someone to mention Taylor’s absence. No one said a word. The talk was all who was leaving when and who was going to shop where and how the NYC people were all going to meet up over the weekend. Was it just me, or was Noelle’s nonchalance a little more studied this morning?
I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking. I don’t know why, exactly, but I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. It was almost like a game. How long could they continue acting as if nothing was wrong? How long could we all keep up the charade?
A long time, apparently, because soon I found myself sliding into a pew at morning services and still, no one had so much as mentioned the T word. What was up with this school? It was like keeping secrets was everyone’s favorite pastime—when they
weren’t busy gossiping. The whole place was a functioning contradiction.
“Omigod. What is up with Taylor Bell?”
My heart skipped a beat. I looked at Constance’s eager face. Trust my former roommate always to play forward for Team Gossip. Considering I was constantly surrounded by the starting lineup of the Secret-Keepers, Constance was good to have around.
“What do you mean?”
Constance settled in next to me and nestled her backpack under her feet. “Kiki totally saw her getting into a car on the circle this morning
way
before the sun even came up.”
“What? How?” I asked.
“Girl never sleeps. She’s the queen of insomnia. Maybe that’s why she won firsts. Nothing else to do in the middle of the night but study,” Constance said. She pondered this for a moment, maybe wondering if
she
could become an insomniac and thereby become celebrity for a day, then got back to the subject at hand. “But anyway, she saw the license plate on the car and guess what it was?” she asked, lowering her voice.
I was about three seconds from imploding. “What?”
“It was Hayes three,” Constance said. “It was one of Kiran Hayes’s mother’s cars, but Kiran wasn’t with her! What’s up with that?”
Suddenly I had that awful sour feeling—that feeling that comes over you when you first realize that everyone around you knows more than you do. That you’re completely idiotic and stupid and
have missed something completely. I turned around in my pew to look at Kiran, who sat a few rows back with the juniors. She sat straight, with her eyes focused on the front of the chapel. There was an empty space next to her, a space that the other girls in the junior class had left open for Taylor, who was always at Kiran’s side. Little did they know that Taylor would not be present this morning.
But Kiran knew. Kiran knew a lot more than she was letting on. I stared at her, willing her to look at me, but she refused, even though I could
tell
she knew I was staring.
Dean Marcus stepped to the podium to begin the service. I faced forward again, so angry I was practically shaking. No more secrets, huh? And I had believed it. Someone should really have tried selling me a bridge already. I was the easiest mark ever.
From the high-backed chair near the front window of Billings, I was able to keep watch on both the main door
and
the stairs. Kiran had been avoiding me all day, but I was not going to let her leave campus without talking to me. I had to know what was going on. A cozy fire crackled in the fireplace in our lobby, and Rose and Vienna sat in front of it, chatting, surrounded by at least a half dozen pieces of luggage as they waited for their rides. I just hoped their being there didn’t get in the way of my mission.