The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (251 page)

“Hey, Reed.”

Sawyer startled me so badly my tray almost tipped.

“Sorry,” he said, grimacing as I saved my bowl from going over the edge. Compared to how I felt, he looked insanely awake and happy, his eyes bright and his smile even brighter. He wore a green sweater under his coat and his dark blond hair fell forward over his forehead.

“S’okay,” I said.

“Wanna sit together?” he asked, tilting his head toward an empty table.

I brightened instantly. An excuse for avoiding the obviously depressing vibe at my table, which
might
just be focused on me? “Sure,” I said.

As I slid into a seat across from Sawyer I kept my eyes on the Billings Girls. Constance wasn’t there. Nor were London, Vienna, or Amberly, who had gotten four out of five of her questions right. It was possible that London and Constance’s absences had nothing to do with their embarrassment over being the two low scorers on the first task, but not likely. Vienna had probably run to Coffee Carma to get London her favorite vanilla spice latte and apple Danish to bring over to her room, and Constance was most likely huddled under the covers in Pemberly, replaying the whole awful episode over and over again in her mind.

I wished she were there so I could tell her she had plenty of chances to make it up. If she could ace the next two tasks, the first would barely count. And after last night, I had decided that the next two tasks were going to be easier than the first. More fun. More group-oriented. No more being put on the spot.

“Hey,” Sawyer said. “Everything okay?”

My eyes darted back to him as he took a sip of coffee. He made a face and ripped open a sugar packet.

“Yeah. Sorry,” I said, dipping my spoon into my Lucky Charms. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Re-
eed
! I have a surprise for you!” Ivy sang, walking over to our
table in a whirl of red coat. She dropped her tray next to Sawyer’s, whipped off her hat, and sat down. “I just got us passes to go off campus after classes today! We are going shopping.” She picked up her bagel and glanced at Sawyer. “Hey, headmaster’s son. How are ya?”

I blinked a few times. Her energy was so incongruent to my exhaustion and deep thoughts, I felt like I’d just been knocked off my chair.

“Um, fine,” Sawyer said with a laugh. “You sure are a morning person.”

“You know, usually I’m not,” Ivy said thoughtfully. “But today I’m in a good mood.”

At least
someone
was happy. Her lips were perfectly glossed, her lashes long and curled, her skin rosy. I felt ten times more tired just looking at her.

“Shopping?” I said. “For what?”

“I need to get a new dress for the dance,” Ivy informed me.

“The dance. Right.” I glanced at Sawyer, and he blushed and looked away.

Rose, who was passing by the table slowly, looking as out of it as I felt, paused. “What are you doing over here?”

“Sawyer asked me to sit with him,” I said. “Want to join us?”

Rose looked over her shoulder at the Billings tables. “Okay.”

She slid behind me and sat down, smoothing the skirt of her purple dress over her legs. “I’m Rose,” she said to Sawyer. “You’re one of the headmaster’s sons.”

Sawyer laughed under his breath. “Sawyer,” he said, then looked
at me. “What do I need to do to become something other than ‘the headmaster’s son’?” he joked.

“Streak in the class building during first period,” Ivy suggested, her mouth half full. “That’ll do it.” She reached for her juice as Sawyer laughed. “So, Reed? Shopping tonight?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Yay!” Ivy clapped her hands and took another bite of bagel.

“Why are you so awake?” Rose semiwhined, reaching for her coffee.

“Oh, you mean . . . oh.” Ivy stopped, clearly realizing she shouldn’t say anything out loud and took a sip of OJ. “I’m used to not sleeping. Ever since the . . . 
accident
 . . . it’s just not something I do much of.”

“Oh.” I told myself I shouldn’t feel guilty about this. It was not my fault. It was Sabine’s. And to a lesser extent Josh’s. But the fact that Ariana’s crazy half-sister had targeted me because Ariana had ended up in an insane asylum after trying to kill me just couldn’t be my fault. All I’d done was show up at Easton. The rest was on the insane blood pumping through the Osgood/DuLac veins.

“You can come, too, Rose,” Ivy said brightly. “I could use a second and third opinion. Josh and I haven’t really done the dress-up-and-go-out thing. At least not since I’ve been in the hospital. I want it to be perfect.”

At the mention of Josh’s name, my eyes went right to him. He was seated at a table with a bunch of his soccer buddies, leaned over someone’s iPhone, looking at heaven knew what. There was a small red paint stain on the sleeve of his navy blue rugby shirt. For some reason, that tiny splotch made my heart hurt.

“Okay. I’m in,” Rose said. She gave a huge yawn and stretched her arms over her head. “If I’m still awake then.”

I smiled.

Back in their sophomore year, Ivy and Rose had been friends. Maybe the BLS would bring them back together.

The BLS. Wasn’t that supposed to be my focus right now? Not Josh. Not romance. Not the things I couldn’t have. I was supposed to be looking toward the future, not pining for the past. Maybe helping Ivy tonight would be just the thing to help me let him go and move on.

I had some shopping to do for the second task anyway. Maybe today in class I could brainstorm some solid ideas on how to turn the depressing vibe at the Billings tables around with Loyalty Night. This whole secret-society thing was supposed to be fun, but so far, it seemed like Ivy was the only one having any.

We met for the second task in the common room on the ground floor of Pemberly Hall. As my friends walked in, I could tell they were surprised and a bit nervous at the public arena, the brightness of the room, the fact that it wasn’t the dead of night. It was dark out, of course. In mid-January it got dark at five o’clock. But we’d just come from dinner. People were still up and about on campus. Several of them were even hanging out in the common room, watching us with interest as we settled in on the uneven pentagon of couches I’d arranged in the center of the room.

“What’s this? A fifth-grade slumber party?” Noelle asked, dropping her coat and bag over the back of the longest couch and settling herself in. On the table in front of her were open bags of M&M’s, Reese’s peanut butter cups, pretzels and Tostitos, a jar of pineapple salsa, plus several cans of Coke and bottles of water from the vending machine.

“My budget doesn’t exactly support Godiva and Perrier,” I said, standing in the wedge between the arms of two love seats until all fourteen girls had arrived.

“So, what’re we going to do tonight?” Missy asked, looking down her nose at the spread. “Cut open our palms and make blood vows over an empty calorie fest or something?”

“No,” I said, taking the last seat, which happened to be right next to her. “Tonight, we are going to have a little fun.”

I picked up the brown bag from the floor and dumped out seventy-five safety pins on the table. Each was tied with a tiny dark brown or baby blue ribbon—the official colors of the BLS. I’d spent half the night last night making them, and my fingertips still smarted from the effort.

“Everyone take five pins and attach them to your person,” I said.

They looked at one another dubiously, but Constance dove right in and started pinning the ribbons to her chest. I did the same, trying to show them that I was, in fact, serious. Once everyone had grudgingly done as they were told—Noelle the grudgingliest of all—I grabbed a bottle of water and a handful of M&M’s for strength. I had a feeling the girls were going to think “cheese” was my middle name after I explained this task.

“We’re going to play a little friendship game,” I told them.

“Oh my God! It
is
a fifth-grade sleepover!” London trilled.

Vienna clapped her hands, all hyper, and everyone laughed. I smiled gratefully. At least they hadn’t gotten up and walked out.

“Everyone’s going to have some munchies and soda and we’re all
just going to hang out and talk,” I said, crunching away on my chocolate.

“About what?” Kiki asked, drawing her heavy boots up under her on the couch.

“About us,” I said, lifting a shoulder. “Good memories, bad memories, funny stories . . .” I trailed off as my eyes fell on Ivy, who was looking suddenly uncomfortable. Right. She wasn’t technically one of us. But she’d known Portia, Rose, Tiffany, Noelle, Vienna, Shelby, and London for a long time. Surely they had some mutual stories that didn’t involve putting her grandmother in the hospital. “If, during the conversation, you overhear a sister—I mean
friend
,” I amended, glancing up as Jillian walked by on her way to the stairs, “say something bad about another friend, you can take one of that person’s pins for yourself. The idea, obviously, is to say only good things about each other, but also to keep an ear open for disparaging comments. The game ends when one person has lost all their pins. Which hopefully won’t happen at all.”

“Wow. Who came up with this lameness?” Missy groused, shifting in her seat.

“I think it sounds like fun!” Rose put in with a bright smile.

“Question. Can I take one of Missy’s ribbons for that?” Astrid asked, lifting a hand.

I laughed. “I didn’t come up with this, so Missy’s comment wasn’t about me. Let’s say the game starts . . . now.”

“I have a good story!” Vienna announced, sitting forward and grabbing a chip. “Remember last spring when London tried to take
the train to Boston and ended up in Maine?” She pointed at London with her chip.

“‘Omigod! Is this whole state populated by scary bearded men?’” they recited in unison.

Then they cracked up, laughing all over each other.

“That was one hell of a road trip coming to get you, though,” Tiffany said, reaching for the M&M’s. “The bathroom at the BP on 95?”

“Ew!” Rose groaned. “I dry-heaved for like an hour.”

“Okay, I’m confused,” Noelle said, raising a hand. “Is that a disparaging story about London’s total lack of travel skills, or a funny anecdote about a road trip?”

“Give me a pin!” Ivy said, reaching a palm toward Noelle.

“What? No way,” Noelle said firmly.

“No one said anything disparaging until you mentioned London’s total lack of travel skills,” Ivy countered. “Shocking that you were the first to insult someone.”

“Okay, now you give me a pin,” Noelle replied haughtily.

“What? Why?” Ivy said incredulously.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you just insulted me to my face?” Noelle replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

I watched them face off and held my breath. This was supposed to be fun, not a showdown between Ivy and Noelle.

“Okay! Okay! That one’s a wash,” I said. “Let’s move on.”

Ivy and Noelle both rolled their eyes. Ivy reached for a peanut butter cup and Noelle shifted in her seat, turning her knees away from
Ivy and resting her arm on the back of the couch so that her back was practically square with Ivy’s face.

“Anyone else have a story?” I asked, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.

“What about the time we all had to dress up Reed for her date with Hunter Braden!” Constance trilled.

“Oh! That was fun!” Portia put in, crunching into a pretzel.

“And necessary, considering your serious wardrobe issues,” Missy said with a sniff.

“Now I definitely get your pin!” Astrid said.

“Oooooh!”

Missy rolled her eyes and detached a pin for Astrid. “Brown’s not my color anyway.”

As everyone started to reminisce about my makeover night last semester, studiously avoiding Sabine’s name, I noticed, I began to finally relax. They were really getting into the spirit of the game—a game that Elizabeth Williams had devised almost a hundred years ago. Everyone was happy and laughing and shouting and pointing, grabbing pins from one another and chowing down. If I could just keep Ivy and Noelle from clawing each other’s eyes out, everything would be fine. Because this was what I wanted the Billings Literary Society to be about. It was the closest we’d come to a true Billings moment since we’d returned from break.

And from that moment on, I vowed there would be many more.

“Last night was so much fun!” Constance whispered as she slipped into the chair next to mine at breakfast the next day. “Was that the second task, or was it just for the heck of it? Because if it was a task, I guess Missy and Shelby totally failed.”

“Shhh!” I said, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. Across the aisle, Gage, Sawyer, Graham, and Trey were hanging out, talking loudly. I ducked my head toward hers. “It was a task,” I whispered. “And yeah, Missy and Shelby did not pass.”

They had both lost all five of their pins quickly, but we’d decided to keep playing anyway. No one had wanted our night to end just then.

I speared some scrambled egg with my fork as Kiki, Vienna, London, Amberly, Tiffany, and the others settled in around us. Everyone was chatting, laughing, happy. After the first task I’d felt like we were prepping for a funeral. Now everyone was acting like we were on our way to the Legacy.

Not that I ever wanted to attend a Legacy party again after the awfulness of the last two, but still.

“We’re going to movie night in the Great Room tonight,” Vienna announced, laying her linen napkin across her lap. “They’re showing a
Legally Blonde
marathon. Who’s in?”

“Me!” London said predictably, lifting a hand. “I can recite the entire first movie from beginning to end.”

But she couldn’t get more than two answers right on the BLS knowledge test. Good to know she remembered the truly important stuff.

“Let’s all go,” Lorna enthused, dropping into her chair. “It’ll be fun.”

“Could be slightly more entertaining than my trig homework,” Astrid mused, lifting a shoulder.

“I’m in,” I said. I knew I should probably should spend the night studying, but I was happy that my friends wanted to do something together. This was what the secret society was all about—making sure we stayed close. It seemed like last night’s loyalty message had come through loud and clear.