I closed the door behind me. Down the hall, the door to Kiran and Taylor’s room was open. I wandered over to it. Leaned in the doorway. The place was completely empty, save for the Easton-issue furniture. The maintenance staff had come in that morning and packed up everything from the two bedrooms. The blinds had been thrown open to let the winter sun in. All of Kiran’s coats and shoes and makeup were gone, all of Ariana’s books and scarves and sweaters, all of Noelle’s tons and tons of crap. Just days ago, they were here. Hanging out. Studying. Trying to pretend everything was normal.
My heart constricted and I took a sharp breath of surprise. I was going to miss them. Even after everything. I was going to miss
them. Or the people I had thought they were. The people who had promised to give me everything. The people who were supposed to change my life.
“Hey.”
I turned around to find Natasha hovering behind me. She wore her lucky sweater—a blue cardigan with leather patches on the sleeves that belonged to her dad.
“Hey. How was your test?” I asked.
“Piece of cake,” she said with a small, wry smile. “I just stopped by our room. It’s kind of empty.”
I said nothing. Looked back at the barren room before us.
“You don’t have to take everything, you know. They do lock up the dorms.”
“I know,” I said.
There was a long moment of silence. I braced myself for the questions. The ones I couldn’t answer.
“So, did you hear they arrested Taylor?” she asked.
Not at all what I expected her to say. I whipped around. “They did? When? Where was she?”
“Back home in Chicago,” Natasha said. “She’s been in public school for the past three weeks, if you can believe it.”
“You’re kidding.” So not at a treatment facility, as Noelle and the others had told me. Not having a psychotic break.
Whatever they told you about me is not true,
she’d written in her e-mail. The words finally made sense.
“Apparently her parents thought Easton was a bad influence on
her, so they changed her e-mail and phone numbers and enrolled her out there,” Natasha said.
“A bad influence, huh?” I said. “Where would they get that idea?”
Natasha exhaled and smiled.
“What’s going to happen to her?” I wondered. “To all of them?”
Natasha leaned back against the wall in the hallway. “They’ll charge Ariana with murder, or maybe manslaughter if her lawyer kicks ass and declares temporary insanity. The rest of them . . . at the very least, they’ll be charged with kidnapping, assault, endangerment,” she said. “But if they really want to make an example of them, they charge them with aiding and abetting, both before and after the fact.”
“Wow. How do you know all this?” I asked.
“I’m going to be a lawyer,” she said matter-of-factly. “Anyway, you can bet they’re going to have the best criminal attorneys in the country. Noelle, Kiran, and Taylor? They may just get off with a slap.”
A rush of heat lit my face. “No.”
“Yeah,” Natasha said. Then she added, apologetically, “It’s the world we live in.”
My throat had all but closed up. I had no idea how to feel about that revelation. I wanted them to be punished for what they’d done to Thomas, but then Noelle, Kiran, and Taylor . . . they were still my friends. My friends who had made a huge, stupid mistake, but my friends. If they didn’t have to rot in prison, that would be a good thing.
Except that they should. They should be punished. For what they did to him. For how scared he must have been . . .
I shoved the thoughts away. Couldn’t deal with them now. Couldn’t deal with them ever.
“I get Noelle’s side!”
“Fine by me. I like the window.”
Cheyenne and Rose emerged from the stairwell toting boxes and hangers full of clothes. They shoved open the door to Noelle and Ariana’s room and bustled inside.
“What the . . . ?”
Natasha and I moved across the hall to the doorway. Rose was already hanging her things in Ariana’s closet, while Cheyenne inspected the dust on Noelle’s desk. She ran her finger across it and wrinkled her nose.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Lattimer said we could move in,” Cheyenne said casually, slapping her fingers to clean them. “It
is
the best room in the house, and it’s not like they’re coming back.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
“You couldn’t at least wait until next semester?” Natasha asked.
Cheyenne shrugged as she opened the box on the bed. “Someone was going to take it. We just wanted to make sure we got here first.”
“God, Cheyenne. Could you be any more callous?” Natasha asked.
Cheyenne was amused. “Natasha, you’re acting like Noelle and
Ariana did nothing wrong. They murdered someone, for goodness’ sake.” She glanced at my rapidly paling face. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I croaked.
“The point is, they got themselves kicked out. Let’s not martyr them, okay?” Cheyenne said.
She pulled her satin jewelry box out of the cardboard one and placed it atop Noelle’s dresser. The dresser behind which I’d once found that envelope full of naked pictures of Dash—the ones Noelle had planted for me to find as a joke. I smiled at the memory now, even as my eyes filled with tears. This was ridiculous. Twenty-four hours of numb and now, all of a sudden, I was feeling everything all at once.
“I have to go,” I said.
“That’s right! I heard you were leaving early,” Cheyenne said. She stepped up to me and gave me a quick hug, pressing her face into my shoulder. “Have a fantastic break, Reed. Just try to put this semester behind you, because next semester everything is going to be different.”
I attempted to smile. Different. Right. How could it not be?
“I can’t wait!” Cheyenne trilled.
At that moment Vienna and London burst in, Vienna in her pink coat, London in her baby blue, both with white wool hats pulled down over their thick hair.
“Cheyenne Martin! What do you think you’re doing?” London demanded.
“I’m moving into my new room,” Cheyenne said.
“Oh, no way!” Vienna said, tossing her sweater bag on Noelle’s bed. “This is
our
room. Our mothers were both in Billings, which means we have pri!”
“You can
not
just take the good room,” London said. “That is just nonacceptable.”
“I think you mean
un
acceptable,” Natasha corrected.
“Whatever. My brain is mush from that history final,” London said. “The point is, we’re moving in here. Not you. We’ll stage a sit-down if we have to.”
“That would be a sit-
in,
sweetie,” Vienna said, whipping her hat off. “And that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
“Girls, girls, girls,” Cheyenne said, shaking her head. “Do you really think it’s appropriate to cause a scene right now considering all that’s happened?”
Vienna and London looked at one another as if they were suddenly embarrassed.
“Oh . . . well . . . yeah. Of course. What happened with Noelle and them is awful,” Vienna said.
“Just terrible,” London agreed.
There was a moment of silence. Rose continued organizing her clothes.
“But still! That doesn’t mean you can just swoop in here and change the rules!” Vienna protested.
Natasha laughed under her breath.
“Might I suggest a compromise?” Cheyenne said. She hooked her arm around London’s back, then reached out for Vienna as well.
Sandwiched between their big-haired curviness, Cheyenne looked even tinier and wirier than ever. “You two can have Kiran and Taylor’s room! The view from there is just as pretty.”
“Yeah, but—”
“And you know, I was thinking that next semester we could implement an interior governing system for Billings. You know, like a real sorority,” Cheyenne continued. “How would you two girls feel about being co–social chairs?”
The Twin Cities stared at each other, wide-eyed.
“What, exactly, would our powers be?” London asked.
“Well, we’d need to figure that out as we went along of course, but I’m thinking event planning, decorating, invitations. . . .”
London and Vienna were nodding in unison. Cheyenne really knew how to play to her audience. Natasha rolled her eyes at me and together we walked out. In the hallway I was surprised to find that I was smiling. The Twin Cities were always good for that.
“Well. Sounds like next semester is gonna be a blast,” Natasha said with false enthusiasm. “I can’t wait to get back. How about you?” she asked pointedly.
“Yeah,” I said, my smile faltering. “Can’t wait.”
“I’m thinking about not coming back.”
Constance tripped over the leg of her chair and then fell into it, dropping her tray on the table with a clatter. Her face was a picture of devastation. She was wearing those braids again, the ones that made her look ten years old. I felt like I’d just kicked Little Orphan Annie in the gut.
“What? No,” she said.
I shrugged and looked down at my untouched sandwich. The door opened and I tried my hardest not to look up at the people entering. I had no idea how I’d act if I saw Josh. I felt so incredibly, monumentally stupid and guilty and chagrined and sad every time I thought about him. Part of me felt that if I saw him I would just burst into tears, which would not help the feeling-stupid part. But part of me was aching to see him so badly I could have keeled over from the pain.
“Reed, everything is going to be different now,” Constance said,
shaking her bottle of Snapple. “They’re gone. We all know who killed Thomas. It’s over. Next semester everything’s going to go back to normal.”
“Yeah, but what is that?” I asked, desperation twisting in my chest. “Since I’ve been here, it’s been all about Noelle and then Thomas and then Josh. . . . I don’t even know what normal
is
here.”
“So don’t you want to find out?” Constance asked. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. I wished I could feel that. I really did. But all I felt was overwhelmed. And tired. And thoroughly confused.
“I don’t know. It’s not like I’m dying to go back to Croton High,” I said. Just imagining the gray cinderblock walls, the institutional lockers, the dingy cafeteria with its fading
READING IS FUNDAMENTAL
posters made me sad. “But it might be a better alternative to starting over again at Billings.”
Constance eyed me sympathetically. Then, right before my eyes, her entire face lit up. A total transformation. “So don’t go back to Billings!”
“What?”
“Yes! You can come back and live with me!” she suggested, grabbing my hand and shaking it on the table. “Omigod! It’ll be so much fun! Like it should have been!”
Damn, she was sweet. She was so sweet she was spewing gumdrops.
“I don’t know. . . .”
“Come on! I’m sick of my single anyway,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Let’s be roommates again.”
I took a deep breath and considered. Considered how simple that would be. Maybe if I did go back, I could just fly under the radar. Do my work. Be a student. Maybe there would be no more fabulous balls and flowing champagne. No more expensive gifts and spa treatments. Maybe when I graduated, I wouldn’t have the support of the Billings Girls and all their connections behind me. But at least there would be no drama.
No drama. I liked the sound of that.
“Maybe,” I said finally, not wanting to get her hopes up too high.
“Yes! This is going to be so totally beyond amazing!”
Constance jumped out of her seat and hugged me across the table. I rolled my eyes but smiled. I’d forgotten who I was talking to. With Constance, she’d get her hopes up as high as she wanted, thank you very much.
It was a beautiful day. Warm for December. I didn’t even need a hat as I stood on the circle in front of Bradwell, waiting for my father to arrive. The campus was silent, everyone sequestered in their classrooms, taking their exams. All of them together, struggling through, heading for the finish line and their fabulous vacations. Me out here alone, waiting for the station wagon, the long ride home.
I turned and looked up at the buildings around the circle. They seemed smaller than before. Maybe because I knew what went on inside those walls now. Knew it wasn’t all honor and truth and excellence. It was sad, really, how much my view of this place had changed. I remembered that first day when we had pulled up here. Remembered how sophisticated and intelligent everyone had looked. How privileged I’d felt just to be here. I remembered meeting Constance and how I’d thought we could never be friends—that her incessant talking would drive me insane. How wrong I had been
about her. I remembered Thomas, his knowing eyes, his self-assuredness, his sexy smile. And seeing the girls through the window at Bradwell. Noelle. Ariana. Kiran. Taylor. How exotic they had seemed then.
A tear slipped down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away.
I heard the chug of my father’s car as it turned up the hill down below. And suddenly I couldn’t wait to get out of here.
I picked up my backpack and shouldered it. That was when I heard the footsteps pounding behind me. I turned around and Josh grabbed me up in his arms.
“I caught you. Thank God,” he said, squeezing me hard. Squeezing out a few extra tears. I was relieved and anguished all at once. Wanted him to keep on holding me forever and also to just let me go.
“Josh, I . . . your test—”
“Who cares? Are you okay? I heard you were leaving and I—are you okay?” He was grasping me all over. My shoulders, then my elbows, then my hips. Like he was checking to see if any parts of me were broken. His hands landed, finally, on my cheeks, cupping my face. His face was ruddy from the run, his blue eyes bright. His curly blond hair danced in the breeze. “Are you okay?” he repeated.
“I’m fine,” I told him, my heart bursting. “I’m totally fine.”
“I’ve been trying to call you over and over and over, but—”
“My phone was off,” I said.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t anymore. That decision made zero sense to me now. “I just thought if you didn’t call then I’d . . . I’m sorry. It’s just been—”