The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (159 page)

Unfortunately, all I could do was stare at the note I had received from Kiran along with the invitation to her party. I turned the handwritten card over in my hand. Over and over and over.

Reed,

It’s been TOO long. Please come. Would love to catch up.

x’s,

Kiran

Did the message still apply? Or would she hate me forever once she’d found out what I’d done to Noelle? Was there any possible way she hadn’t already heard?

I so wanted to go to the party. I was dying to see Kiran and hoping that maybe Taylor Bell would be there as well. It
had
been too long. But even if Kiran did still want me there, how was I supposed to get to Boston? I could hardly imagine sitting on a party bus with a couple dozen Easton students for the two-hour-plus ride. That long in a confined space with nothing but people who detested me? I’d rather be forced to watch my parents’ wedding video nonstop for forty-eight hours, complete with my dad’s off-key rendition of Bon Jovi’s “I’ll Be There for You.”

But if I could make it to the party, it might be the perfect opportunity to talk to Noelle. All our old friends together again. Just like old times. Maybe she would find it easier to forgive me if she could be reminded why we’d become friends in the first place.

I sighed and tossed the card down on my scarred desk, gazing at my blank computer screen. There was a lull as iTunes switched songs and I heard a voice, as clear as day, come through the vent under my bed.

“Okay, if you’re going to keep doing that, I’m going to have to leave,” Josh said with a laugh in his voice. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

Hot, acidic bile rose up in my throat. What exactly was Ivy doing? About a thousand unsavory possibilities flooded my mind and I instantly reached for my phone. No way was I going to sit in here knowing they were right next door. Not even if I blasted the speakers on both my computer and my CD player. I quickly texted Sabine.

Need 2 get out. Walk?

The few moments it took her to text me back felt like an eternity.

Meet u in quad.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I whispered, grabbing my coat.

Sabine was definitely going to win the Best Friend of the Year Award. I turned off iTunes, only to hear a peel of Ivy’s laughter that sent my pulse racing. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I fumbled with the doorknob, trying to pull my coat on at the same time, and tripped into the hall. My door wasn’t even closed behind me when I heard another door click shut. I looked up right into the stunning—and stunned—blue eyes of Josh Hollis.

He froze. I froze. He clutched his gray wool jacket in both hands. I stood there half in, half out of my own coat. I guess Ivy had refused to stop doing whatever she was doing to distract him—make me heave—but I couldn’t even think about that right then. All I could think about was how he was mere inches from me and how much I wanted to just hug him and how I couldn’t.

How I’d never be able to do that again.

I was about to say something—anything to break the awkwardness—but before I could, Josh tipped his head toward my room, silently urging me to let him inside. My heart leapt like a high jumper on speed. He wanted to talk to me. Alone.

I held the door open, my hand trembling, and he slipped past me. The clean, familiar scent of him filled my nostrils and almost made me faint. I closed the door behind us and he turned to me.

“Reed, I—”

I held a finger to my lips. His brow knit, but he shut up. I went over to my computer and cranked up the volume on the Fall Out Boy song my iTunes had last landed on. Then I glimpsed the blue Holiday Dinner card with his name on it and quickly flipped it over before I faced him again.

“I can hear everything Ivy says when there’s no music on,” I told him quietly—just loud enough to be heard by him. I tossed my coat on my bed. “If you don’t want her to know you’re in here . . .”

Josh nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “Got it.”

He placed his jacket on the back of my chair and put his battered leather messenger bag down near his feet. His hands went directly into the back pockets of his paint-stained jeans, as if he was afraid of what he might do with them if they weren’t secured. Or afraid of what I might do if he kept them within reach.

“So,” he said.

“So,” I replied, my heart pounding so loud that between it and FOB, I could barely hear.

“How are you?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

His eyes were so full of concern, I wanted to cry. How could he possibly be so nice to me after everything? Yes, he’d already known about the Dash thing before everyone else had—had caught the live show the night of the Legacy before the film adaptation had hit the airwaves. But now that everyone in school had seen it and knew what I had done to him, shouldn’t he be hating me with a vengeance? I had humiliated him.

“I’m . . . fine,” I lied with a shrug.

It was obvious he didn’t believe me, but I was still stuck on the unbelievable
fact that he was right there. Right in my room. The two of us. Alone. How many times had I wished for exactly this? How many times had I prayed I would just get one more chance to explain? To win him back? And here I was, a rock the size of a softball in my throat, unable to form a single word in case whatever came out might scare him away.

“I’m really sorry all of this is happening to you,” Josh said, running a hand through his curls and looking at the ground. “I know I’ve been an ass lately, but—”

“Josh, I’m so sorry,” I blurted, his words dissolving the softball just like that. “I’m so sorry for everything that happened with Dash. It didn’t mean anything, and if I could go back and take it all back, I would do it. You have to know that,” I said desperately. “Please, I just . . . I really need you to know that.”

I choked on the last few words, and Josh took a step toward me. For a second I thought he was going to take my hand, but then he thought better of it and merely squeezed my upper arm awkwardly before letting his hand drop.

“I know,” he said. “I do.”

“You do?” I said hopefully.

“Listen, Reed, it’s all in the past, okay?” he said, backing off again. “You can’t stress about what’s already done, especially with everything else that’s going on.”

Everything else? Didn’t he get that he mattered to me more than any of the rest of it?

He picked up my one bottle of perfume from the top of my dresser and toyed with it.

“Just . . . get through finals and everything will be better after break,” he said, glancing over at me. “It’ll be like a new start or something, you know?” He gestured at my itty-bitty room. “New dorm, new friends . . . You can focus on the SATs and getting into an Ivy and leaving all this behind. Two years from now none of this crap is going to matter anymore.”

Except you. You’ll still matter.

I felt at that moment that I would be able to leave all of this behind if only I still had him. The person who had always been there for me. The person who had always kept me sane, no matter what was going on around me.

Josh shoved his hands in his back pockets again and faced me. He looked as if he didn’t know what to do with himself next. I just wanted him to touch me again. Even if it was another uncomfortable shoulder squeeze. It was so insane, how you could go from kissing and hugging and cuddling someone every single day like it was the most natural thing in the world to not being allowed within two feet of them. It was as if there were this invisible barrier between us and all I wanted to do was breach it. Did he feel even remotely the same way?

I saw his eyes dart past me to his jacket and sensed he was about to bail. But I wasn’t ready to let him leave just yet.

“Well, I guess you finally got your wish,” I said with a sardonic smile. “I’m no longer in Billings.”

Josh’s eyes flooded with so much pity I immediately wished I had kept my mouth shut.

“None of this is what I wished for,” he said earnestly. “Believe me.”

My heart skipped and I looked at the floor, my eyes filling with tears. My computer had clicked over to a slow song, as if it were trying to make the perfect sound track for our conversation.

“Hey,” Josh said. He finally reached for my hand, taking it in his. I thought I would never breathe again. “Are you okay?”

I looked up into his eyes, wanting to say about ten million things to him, and that’s when we both heard Ivy. The low tones of the slow song were letting her voice come through.

“I can’t wait to get Josh to Paris over Christmas,” she said, apparently talking into her phone. “Our house on the Left Bank, dinner at Marceau . . . He’s not even going to know what hit him.”

I dropped Josh’s hand and took a step back as Ivy giggled happily. Josh’s guilty expression told me everything.

“You’re going to Paris with her?” I whispered.

“Not exactly,” he whispered back. “My family’s going . . . her family’s going. . . .”

“I have to get out of here,” I said, suddenly feeling as if I was going to overheat. I grabbed my coat and started by him.

“Reed, I’m sorry you just heard that, but—”

I whirled on him, stopping him midsentence. His expression was somehow pleading and defiant all at once. Like he didn’t want me to be hurt, but like he also felt I had no right to be hurt.

“Just do me one favor,” I whispered to him. “Be careful when it comes to Ivy. There’s a lot about her that you don’t know.”

Then I turned and walked out of my room, leaving my ex all alone inside.

The next day after dinner with Diana and a failed study session in the library, I packed up my notebooks and headed back across the quad toward Pemberly. As I approached Drake House I remembered what Constance had said about Marc doing a story on Cheyenne. And if Marc knew anything about S.O., then I wanted to know too.

Taking a deep breath, I whipped out my cell and dialed Marc’s number. His voice mail picked up automatically.

“This is Marcellus Alberro. I’m unavailable right now, but please leave your name and number at the beep and I will get right back to you. If this is about a story, dial pound to page me. Thanks.”

“Hey, Marc. It’s Reed. I have a quick question for you. Call me back when you get a chance,” I said. Then, as I slipped my iPhone back into my bag, I saw a familiar form rushing toward Drake’s back door. I hesitated for a moment, knowing I was probably the last person on
earth this particular guy would want to talk to, but my adrenaline rush got the better of me.

“James! Hey, James. Wait up!” I called.

The tall, gawky senior turned and looked at me, squinting in the dark. The moment he saw it was me jogging toward him, his jaw clenched. Luckily, however, he didn’t sprint off into the night.

“Hey,” I said, pausing in front of him. “Do you . . . remember me?” I asked, hoping he somehow didn’t. The wind tossed my hair in front of my face and I pulled it away, draping it over my right shoulder.

“The executor of the most embarrassing moment of my life? Sure. How could I forget you?” James replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his long winter coat.

I looked at the ground, ashamed. Last year Noelle had forced me to break up with James on Kiran’s behalf right in the middle of the cafeteria. The whole scene had been so awful I was surprised he hadn’t pepper-sprayed me yet.

“Yeah, I’m really
so
sorry about that,” I said quickly. “I just have one question for you and then I swear I’m out of here.”

James said nothing. He simply stood there, waiting. Something about his steely-eyed gaze made me nervous. Like he was judging me. Which, of course, he had every right to do considering what I had done to him.

“I’m looking for Marc Alberro. Do you know if he’s in Drake right now?”

James tipped his head back and laughed, exhaling a cloud of steam
into the night air. “Why are you looking for Fourteen-in-Fourteen Flower Boy?”

“Wait. Fourteen-in-Fourteen Flower Boy? That’s what we called Trey after he sent Cheyenne fourteen vases of fourteen roses last Valentine’s Day,” I said, suddenly remembering how Cheyenne’s room had smelled like a rose garden for days. “How did you know that? And what does it have to do with Marc?”

James just stared at me. “You didn’t know? Trey didn’t send her those flowers—Marc did. I figured from the video that all you Billings Girls probably called him Fourteen-in-Fourteen.”

Fourteen-in-Fourteen Flower Boy was Marc Alberro? No. Freaking. Way.

“You’re kidding,” I said aloud.

“Yeah, he was in love with her and wanted to make this grand gesture. I guess it really pissed her off. She humiliated him in front of his entire dorm. I mean, I wasn’t in Wesley Hall last year, but I saw the video.” James stuck his hands in his pockets and looked embarrassed. “This may sound awful, but at the time it made me feel a little better about what happened to me.”

“There was a video?” I asked, still unable to wrap my brain around the idea that Marc had been in love with Cheyenne. I knew he had done a story on her, but how was this possible? How could a guy like Marc even afford all those roses? It just didn’t add up.

“Yeah, some guy in Wesley took it with his HDcam. I still have it on my notebook,” James said.

“Yeah?” I felt my cheeks redden, but I knew what I had to do. “Do you think . . . I mean, would you mind . . .”

He smiled. “It’s okay if you want to see it.”

I nodded and followed him back into the dorm. I couldn’t believe he was being so solicitous, but I didn’t mention it. I didn’t want him to change his mind. And there was no way I was going to believe this without visual proof.

James ushered me into the common room off the lobby of Drake House. I hadn’t even realized how frozen I was until I entered the saunalike space and felt myself thawing from the inside out. There were a couple of guys in the corner studying, and they shot us curious glances as James whipped out his laptop from his backpack, setting it up on one of the coffee tables.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing at the plaid couch behind us.

Okay. He was being way too polite considering our history.