The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (130 page)

“And that accent?” Portia was saying. “
Molto
sexy!”

The girls around me all swooned and laughed knowingly, and I finally realized this might actually be fun. So I relaxed into my chair. Relaxed into the moment. Into a night without drama.

“Why the hell did you pick Trey?” I asked Noelle as we emerged from the breakfast line Wednesday morning. “Did you really think I could go out with Josh’s roommate?”

“Of course not. That’s exactly why I chose him,” Noelle whispered. “I had to pick someone, but I know as well as you do that you’re not ready for a relationship. So why not pick someone whom everyone would eventually have to agree was no good?”

I smiled at her. Always thinking, that Noelle.

We took seats at our table, where everyone else had already gathered, but I found that I couldn’t relax. Every time the dining hall door opened, I flinched. I forced myself not to look up each time, but would glance over casually a moment later to check who had entered. If my friends had thought their game of Find Your Rebound would make me forget about Josh, they were mistaken. Of course,
they
had forgotten
about him entirely. My fifteen bachelors were the number one topic of breakfast conversation.

“I can’t believe you guys ranked Marc fifteenth,” Constance said despondently, pushing her oatmeal around with her spoon. “I mean, you don’t even know him.”

“Exactly. And that’s strike number one,” Noelle replied. “No one here has ever talked to him but you. What does that tell you about him?” Constance’s shoulders sank. She looked like a little kid who’d just been told her new puppy was hit by a car.

“I’ve talked to him,” I said.

My words had the desired effect. Suddenly Constance sat up straight and looked at me all bright-eyed. “You have?”

“Yeah,” I said with a casual shrug. “And I liked him.”

“Omigod, yay!” Constance exclaimed, dropping her spoon. “So are you going to ask him out?”

“Ew! No!” Vienna exclaimed as she wrapped her thick hair back in a ponytail. Her massive breasts bulged forth from her low-cut shirt as she did so, and a freshman boy tripped himself as he walked by. Vienna didn’t seem to notice. “Reed, you cannot start with what’s-his-face. If you do, then last night was totally pointless.”

“His name is Marc,” Constance said, gaining confidence from my backup. “And he’s totally sweet and the most determined reporter on the paper, and he’s cute, too—
I
think.”

Constance was editor-in-chief of the
Easton Chronicle
and therefore had this whole other life I knew almost nothing about, which included friendships with people like Marc.

“Good. Then you go straddle the guy,” London said. She was now working on her own ponytail. Heaven forbid the Twin Cities should be seen without matching hair.

Constance blushed and fell silent again. “I don’t want to straddle him,” she said, making a choking noise in the back of her throat. “I have Whit.”

“Good, then you go straddle
him
, and let us help Reed snag someone worthy of the Billings president,” Noelle replied.

“Exactly. Just not Trey Prescott,” Astrid put in.

Noelle smiled triumphantly. Her plan was working.

“Why not Trey?” London said. “He’s a total hottie.”

“True, but the last person he dated was Cheyenne,” Astrid said, popping a grape into her mouth. “Reed’s already taken over the presidency. Wouldn’t dating Trey be a bit too morbid?”

For a long moment no one spoke. My heart felt sick. What was Astrid implying? That I was trying to take Cheyenne’s place? I knew she and Cheyenne had been friends for years, but she had told me they were never that close. So this was an odd comment to make. Was she upset with me for taking the presidency and running with it? Upset enough, perhaps, to plant black marbles in my desk drawer?

“What?” Astrid said innocently as everyone looked at her. “I’m just saying I think people would talk.”

“Okay. Moving on . . .” Noelle said, shaking her head incredulously.

“Hunter is right over there, Reed,” Tiffany said, leaning in from the far end of the table. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

I glanced over at Hunter, who sat at one of the smaller tables with
Trey and West, looking as hot as ever in a striped shirt and semi-destroyed blazer. My eyes instantly flicked to Josh’s usual table, but he wasn’t there. Still, that feeling of longing in my heart told me all I needed to know.

“I just can’t, you guys,” I said. “I’m not ready to—”

The cafeteria doors opened, and this time I looked right away. The entire cafeteria seemed to screech to a standstill as Josh Hollis and Ivy Slade strode through those doors together. He was wearing my favorite sweater of his—high-collared and gray—and looked amazing, his dark blond curls all tousled by the wind. She looked like a witch in her slim black coat, her raven hair parted down the middle. A gorgeous witch, but a witch nonetheless. A witch whose head was bent so close to Josh’s as they walked and whispered, I saw their temples brush. As I sat there, catatonic, the pair of them strolled right by me. Right by me without a glance.

I felt like I was going to retch. “They’re not—”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I don’t know. They
have
been hanging out a lot the last couple of days,” Missy sang, sounding happy to impart the gossip.

No. Not possible. Why Ivy? Why did it have to be Ivy? Did he hate me that much?

“Are you all right?” Sabine asked me.

“She’s fine,” Noelle replied for me. She leaned across the table. “What you’re feeling right now, Reed? You need to use that. Get up and go over to Hunter. You don’t have to marry the guy. You just have to talk to him long enough to make Josh green.”

“She’s right,” Shelby put in, checking her brows in a compact. “God put hot boys on this earth for this very purpose.”

Josh and Ivy emerged from the breakfast line together. Walked to a table together. Sat down together. Alone.

Apparently he was
not
going to wake up one day and forgive me. Was not going to realize that me hooking up with Dash while drunk was right on par with him hooking up with Cheyenne while drugged. Apparently he was just going to move on. With the girl I loathed most at Easton.

Screw him. Screw. Him.

“Fine,” I said. I pushed myself up and pressed my hands into the table for a moment, steadying my knees. “I’m going.”

I turned, cleared my throat, and tossed my hair over my shoulder. This gave the entire cafeteria time to take notice. To see that the Billings president was on the move. In the beginning the fact that everyone was constantly watching me had been disturbing, but today I would use it. Today everyone would be talking about how Reed Brennan made her move on Hunter Braden.

Slowly, I strolled toward Hunter’s table, my heart pounding sickly in my chest. Even with all of the eyes in the room watching me, I could feel Josh’s on my back.

You think Ivy hurts? Try this.

Hunter looked up as I approached. I pulled out the chair across from his and sat slowly, gracefully. Trey and West didn’t seem to know what to make of me. They both just stared.

“Reed Brennan,” Hunter said. Even through all the misery and
posturing, it killed me the way he said my full name. So. Hot. “Knew you’d come around.”

“I know a good offer when I see one,” I replied smoothly.

Hunter’s smile widened. West looked grim for a moment, thinking, probably, that I had blown him off because I liked Hunter, but then he and Trey started up their own private conversation. He hadn’t texted me yet, as he had promised, and I supposed he wouldn’t now. Oh well. I could only deal with one high-profile conquest at a time anyway.

Hunter produced his BlackBerry from his pocket. He slid it across to me, then folded his hands on the table. “Give me your digits.”

I picked it up, leaning my elbows on the table so that the BlackBerry would be more visible, and slowly typed in my numbers. It was at that moment that Josh got up and stormed out of the dining hall, leaving Ivy all alone.

One gulp of guilt. Just one. That was all I allowed myself. And after that, I just felt good. Really good. Maybe it’s wrong, but I did. Josh was canoodling with the enemy. And after all, I’m only human.

That afternoon after class, I walked back to Billings to change for my final soccer game of the season, my head bent as I hungrily read
Vanity Fair
—the novel, not the magazine—which was the new assignment for English class. I had read the book before and hated it. Now I couldn’t for the life of me remember why. It was a good thing that people had started to dodge out of my way wherever I went, like we all used to do as freshmen back at Croton High when the seniors appeared in the hall. Otherwise I would have been blindly mowing people over.

“Reed! Reed! Wait up!”

I ripped myself out of Becky Sharpe’s world and back into my own. Students peppered the walks and the doorways of dorms, chatting before club meetings and practices and study sessions. I was halfway across the quad, between the class building and Billings, and had been about to trip over a stone bench. Good thing whoever was calling me had stopped me.

“Hey!” Jason Darlington jogged up to me, his cheeks ruddy from the cold and exertion. His shaggy, reddish-brown hair fell perfectly in place, the bangs almost covering his blue eyes. Jason was cute in that innocuous Disney Channel way. He had, in fact, been a child actor, but had never hit the big time.

“How do you walk so fast and read at the same time?” he asked with a smile.

“Special talent,” I replied. “What’s up? Did you miss the English assignment?”

“Nah, I was just curious why you agreed to go out with Hunter Braden,” Jason said, tossing his bangs back. They fell right back into place. “You deserve better.”

Okay, presumptuous. How did this guy know what I deserved? But still, I realized he was complimenting me, so I let it go.

“I mean, did you notice that the only pronoun in his vocabulary is
I
?” Jason joked.

I laughed. “He does have a bit of a self-confidence issue. In that he has too much.”

“Exactly,” Jason said, exhibiting some adorable dimples. “So forget about him and go out with me instead. I promise I’ve heard of the word
you
.”

Okay, was it just me, or had three cute, popular guys just asked me out in the space of three days? Even for a Billings Girl, this was pushing it. I narrowed my eyes, recalling that Jason was number three on our eligible-bachelor list, right after Hunter and Dominic.

“Did London put you up to this?” I asked, tucking my book into my bag.

Hunter was Vienna’s pick, after all. And as much as the Twin Cities loved to copy each other, they could be competitive, too. Maybe London had put Jason on my case to try to thwart Vienna and Hunter. But Jason’s expression was one of total confusion.

“London? London Simmons?” he said. “I don’t think I’ve talked to that girl since we did summer stock at that regional theater in Bucks County together three years ago.”

Wait a minute. London did summer stock? Hello, left field. I never knew she was an actress. I had to file that one away for later. I eyed Jason to see if he was making this up, but he wasn’t that good an actor.

“So, what do you say? You. Me. Library. Thursday night? We can study for the English exam together,” Jason suggested eagerly.

I hesitated for a moment, thinking of Josh. Wondering what he would think of me if he spotted me with Hunter one day and Jason the next. But then, what did I care? Josh was done with me and had moved on to Ivy. I could do what I wanted. I was single. I was the president of Billings. And Jason was ridiculously adorable.

“Sure,” I said. “I’m in.”

“Great!” Jason’s face lit up. “I’ll meet you in the library at seven-thirty.”

“Perfect.”

He jogged off so jauntily I half expected him to suddenly break into song. I turned around, feeling pretty good about myself, until I found myself face-to-face with Ivy Slade.

“What do you want?” I snapped automatically.

“I just wanted to tell you it’s not going to work,” Ivy said, her blue
eyes boring into mine. “This little fund-raiser of yours. We’re all so sick of you people and your entitlement complex. Everyone at this school wants to see you fail, and we’re going to make sure that you do.”

My face burned. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fact,” Ivy replied with a smirk. “Even your perfect ex is with me on this one. You really destroyed him, Reed. Noelle must be so proud of her little prodigy.”

I wanted to strangle her for mentioning Josh, but I somehow managed to keep my composure. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “What is your problem with Billings?” I demanded. “What did we ever do to you?”

Ivy turned slightly and glanced back at my dorm. Noelle, London, Vienna, Portia, and Shelby were hanging around outside, lounging on the low stone walls that led up to the door. Ivy’s jaw clenched, her skin as white as ivory. For a split second, I saw so much pain in her eyes that I practically felt it. But then she turned her back on Billings and she was Ivy again. Cold, disaffected Ivy.

“Plenty,” she responded, looking me dead in the eye, her expression fierce.

As she spun on her heel and stalked off, I was left wondering what, exactly, my Billings sisters might have done to inspire that kind of anger. Was it real or just something Ivy had perceived? I had no idea, but someone in that house knew. And that someone was going to spill.

It was our final soccer game of the season against Barton School, and we were deadlocked at zero. Almost ninety minutes of soccer played and nothing to show for it. As I raced up the field with the ball, all I could think about was scoring. I had to score before the whistle. I had to win. I needed this.

A cold wind whipped all stray hair back from my face toward my ponytail as I charged forward. The scrappy defender who had been giving me trouble all day raced toward me from the right. She slid for the ball, but I popped my toe under it at the last second and it sailed right over her outstretched leg. She was still ground-bound, so in the next moment I had to vault myself over her, too. Somehow I ended up on my feet with the ball, while she was still in the dirt. The crowd on the Easton sidelines—larger than normal, since it was the last game of the year, I assumed—went crazy.