The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (78 page)

“Don’t stress. She can’t hear me,” Noelle said, snapping the mirror closed. “Not that I’d care if she did.”

“Just relax, Noelle. It’ll be fun no matter where we’re going, as long as we’re all together,” Dash said lightly.

“Okay, Tiny Tim. Whatever you say,” Noelle shot back.

I laughed and Josh tensed even further. Apparently he didn’t even appreciate me laughing at her jokes.

“Just look at this,” Noelle said, scooting forward on her seat so she could see out the window on Dash’s side. “We’re in the middle of Dorothy land. Farmhouse. Farmhouse. Silo. Farmhouse. Oh, look! Cows! I knew we were going tipping!”

That one Cheyenne heard. She glared at all of us for a moment before deciding to ignore it. She returned her attention to Rose.

“She said there was going to be champagne. It’s not like she’s totally clueless,” Dash said under his breath.

“Well, there’d better be a lot of it if she doesn’t want this to be the disaster of the century,” Noelle grumbled. “Where is this place, anyway, Martin? Are you taking us to Canada? Because I don’t do flannel.”

“We’re almost there,” Cheyenne replied, blithely smoothing her coat over her knees.

The limo took a turn and whatever small amount of light there had been was gone. Curious, I scooted forward to look out Josh’s window. There was nothing outside but the night sky and the trees, crowding in on all sides. We were on a road that appeared to be one lane. If anyone came at us from the other direction, someone would have to pull off into the dirt. “Middle of nowhere” was the phrase that came to mind.

“Maybe she’s taking us to her coven,” Noelle theorized. “Maybe we’re all going to be sacrificed.”

“That could be exciting,” Kiran put in.

“Seriously. It’s like
Children of the Corn
out there. Where the hell are we?”

She wasn’t actually concerned, just obnoxious. The car turned again and I could feel the bump of cobblestones or bricks under the tires.

“We’re here!” Cheyenne announced.

Suddenly the car was flooded with light. Josh perked up and Dash whistled. Everyone gathered at the windows now, sitting up on their knees to face out. We were on a long driveway that was flanked on either side by huge sparklers stuck into the ground, spitting white fire into the sky. There were hundreds of them, sparking and cracking, lighting the way to the house.

“What the . . . ?”

The house. The house was not a house. It was a palace. It stretched out for what seemed like miles and rose up toward the sky with turrets and spires. On the second floor alone there were at least a dozen balconies with sliding doors. Light poured from every window, and each one was adorned with a classic wreath and red bow. There was a fountain in the center of the circular drive, and in the middle was a huge Christmas tree, all lit up and decorated with crystal ornaments.

“What is this, Versailles?” I said under my breath.

Josh chuckled and put his arm around me, finally relaxed. “So much for the sucky cow-tipping party, huh, Noelle?”

She shot him a death glare as the limo pulled up next to a
couple dozen other cars that were already parked in front of the house.

“Huh,” Noelle said. “Looks like there are already some people here, Martin.”

Cheyenne’s face went ashen, and I knew. Everyone knew. Something was wrong, and whatever it was, Noelle had planned it. Her observation was not the product of surprise. All at once I heard the music pumping through the open front door.

“What the hell is going on?” Cheyenne blurted.

She grabbed for the door handle and tumbled out before the limo had even come to a complete stop. Trey quickly followed. We all looked at Noelle, who was barely suppressing a grin. She stared back at us, arranging her face into the picture of innocence.

“What?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

I shook my head at her and chased after Cheyenne.

Stepping inside Cheyenne’s summer home was like stepping into a museum. Everything was huge. The Croton High gym could have fit in the entry hall. The Christmas tree set into the crook of the winding stairs was big enough to grace Rockefeller Center. The mirrors were huge, the paintings were huge, the chandelier was frightening. I didn’t even want to stand under the thing.

“This place is sick,” Josh whispered as he shed his coat.

“It’s a summer home,” I said, wondering what the home they actually lived in looked like. “They only stay here during the summer.”

“Yeah, so who decorated it for the holidays?” Rose wondered.

“Girl with money like this just has to snap her fingers and the staff of thousands takes care of it,” Dash said, folding his coat and scarf over his arm. “Did anyone know Cheyenne was this loaded?”

“Not I, but I officially have a whole new respect for the girl,”
Gage said. “She could keep me in the manner to which I’ve become accustomed.”

Noelle rolled her eyes and walked across the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Somewhere beyond the foyer there were voices and music. I hadn’t even noticed it in all the awe. But now I saw that Noelle was heading for it and that Cheyenne and Trey stood hand in hand at one of several sets of open double doors. I hurried to join them.

Cheyenne’s face was all surprise as she took in the crowd in what I could only assume was her living room. Though how anyone could actually live among so much white without constantly staining something was beyond me. There were white throw rugs on the floor, square couches of white velvet, white high-backed chairs, and white pillows. Lounging on and around all the luxe furniture were at least fifty people, talking, drinking, and laughing. The doors at the side of the room were open to the outside, and I could see the lights on over an outdoor courtyard. A fire blazed in the huge fireplace, and waitresses circulated the room in black turtlenecks and slim pants, like a dozen Audrey Hepburns come to life. I recognized none of the guests, but could tell from their clothing and their demeanor that they were of the same class as the rest of the Easton students. Still, where had they come from? Did Cheyenne even know who these people were? ”Oh, look!” Noelle said happily, shoving past the rest of us. “There’s Ennis!”

She grabbed a tall boy by the arm and dragged him toward us without so much as a greeting. He wore a blazer, shirt, and tie and
looked like he was auditioning to be in a movie about 1950s prep schools, all fresh-faced and handsome. Cheyenne dropped Trey’s hand and folded her arms across her chest.

“Ennis Thatcher, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Ennis, Cheyenne’s boyfriend,” Noelle announced with an utterly spiteful grin. “Ennis, this is Trey Prescott—Cheyenne’s
date
.”

My heart stopped for Cheyenne. Kiran snorted behind me. Noelle was good. She paid attention. She really knew how to hit a person where it hurt.

Ennis flicked a look at Trey, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. He shifted his feet.

“Hey, Cheyenne,” Ennis said.

“Ennis,” she said. She was as pale as the snow outside. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Noelle asked, hand to chest. “I invited all of your Barton friends. I posted the invite on their school website. I thought it was the least I could do after you saved our holiday party. And I knew you’d just be dying to see Ennis again.”

Cheyenne cast a sidelong glance at Noelle. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Possibly her mind was a total blank after being so utterly blindsided.

“Hope you don’t mind, Shy,” Ennis said. “It was kind of cold outside, so I used the key code and let everyone in.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Cheyenne said, recovering quickly. “It’s not like I want my guests standing outside freezing to death.”

Ennis gave her a tight smile, then looked at Trey. Here it came. The throwdown. The “What the hell are you doing here with a date?” Noelle’s moment of triumph and Cheyenne’s moment of defeat. I held my breath.

“Hey, Trey. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Ennis said, reaching out his hand.

I felt like the whole room had just tilted and then slammed back into place. Wait. What? “Nice to finally meet you”?

“You too, man. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Trey replied.

They shook hands. Right there under Noelle’s nose. I had never seen her look so nonplussed.

“What?” Noelle blurted. “Ennis, did you hear what I said? Trey is Cheyenne’s
date.
”

“I heard you,” Ennis replied, pushing his hands into his pockets. There were patches of pink on his cheeks, but otherwise he seemed fine. “And I’m sorry to have to correct you, but Cheyenne and I are no longer together.”

I thought Noelle’s jaw was going to actually fall from her face. A high-pitched sound came from the back of her throat. A sound she immediately regretted making as her mouth snapped shut and she turned royal purple.

“You—,” she fumed at Cheyenne. As if Cheyenne was the one who had attempted to do something awful here.

Cheyenne simply smiled, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Oh. Did
I
forget to tell
you
that Ennis and I broke up, Noelle?” she said, lifting her hand to her chest the same way Noelle had.

Josh chuckled and Natasha hid a smile. Badly.

“Nice try, Noelle, but everyone here knows about everyone else,” Cheyenne added. “Your
cute
little plan was sort of a waste of time, no?”

“Wait a minute. At Billings that day, you said—”

Cheyenne’s brow creased in an overly exaggerated way. “Oh, right! I guess when I told you I wasn’t ball-and-chained to my man, I should have also explained that Ennis was no longer the man in question. But it was so much more fun, you finding out this way, don’t you think?”

Noelle looked as if she were choking on her tongue.

“And P.S., I invited everyone from Barton before you did. All you’ve done is get them here a little early, so thanks for that.”

Josh, Natasha, Rose, and a few others laughed. The entire world shifted before my eyes. Noelle was speechless, Cheyenne triumphant. Someone had actually out-schemed Noelle. It was actually possible.

In that moment I felt proud of Cheyenne. Proud to know her. The universe didn’t revolve around Noelle Lange, and Cheyenne had just proven it.

She waved to someone across the room, then reached for my hand. “Come on, Reed, there are some people I want you to meet.”

“Me?” I asked, surprised.

“Everyone already knows everyone else, pretty much,” she said, giddy with her victory. “You too, Josh.” She tilted her head. “Let’s go.”

Josh couldn’t have been happier to get away from Noelle and her klatch of supporters. He handed our coats to Dash, then grabbed a couple of champagne flutes off a passing waiter’s tray as we wove through the crowd. Several people greeted Cheyenne with warm hellos and pecks on the cheek. She was clearly very popular among this Barton crowd, which made me wonder why she didn’t go there instead of Easton. Sure she was in Billings, but she didn’t have nearly this many friends at school as she had here.

“Astrid! Hey!”

A beautiful girl with dark, almond-shaped eyes and short dark hair leaned forward for a hug and a double-cheek air kiss. She wore a short-sleeved fuzzy sweater in aqua blue over a silky white dress and had a funky antique brooch in her hair. There was a rhinestone above her left eyebrow, and her glittery eye makeup made her look like a wood sprite from a Shakespeare play.

“There you are, love!” she said with a British accent. “We’ve been wondering when you’d turn up.”

“Sorry to be late,” Cheyenne said. “Astrid, I’d like you to meet Reed Brennan and Josh Hollis. This is Astrid Chou and her boyfriend, Cole Roget.”

“No way! I’ve been absolutely
dying
to meet you,” Astrid cried. She wrapped me up in a soft yet firm hug, and I breathed in the scent of a million flowers.

“You have?” I asked, laughing.

“Are you joking? You two are, like, famous!” Astrid replied. “Aren’t they, Cole?”

“Probably not for reasons you’d want to be,” Cole said kindly, leaning forward to shake both our hands. He was a compact guy with square shoulders and shaggy dark hair. “Congratulations on being exonerated, man.”

“Thanks,” Josh said, clearing his throat. He took a sip of his champagne.

“And you probably want to talk about anything other than that,” Cole said, putting his hand in his pocket. He tipped his glass of scotch toward Josh. “So tell me, Josh. What’s your thing?”

“My thing?” Josh asked.

“Cole is a brilliant conversationalist,” Astrid announced, her eyes gleaming with pride. “It’s a dying art, really. He can talk about anything. Just tell him what your thing is.”

“Sports. Art. Literature. Politics. Architecture. What’s your thing?” Cole asked, sipping his drink.

Josh and I looked at each other and laughed. These people were quirky, but in a good way. Very unlike anyone I had ever met. Josh shrugged one shoulder and decided to go with it.

“All right, then. My thing is art,” he said.

“Beautiful!” Cole said, lifting an arm to place his hand on Josh’s back. He led him toward a set of chairs by the fire. “What do you think of the new installation at MoMA? Brilliantly outré or just plain crass?”

Astrid, Cheyenne, and I watched them go, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

“I knew those two would hit it off,” Cheyenne said.

“I think this is exactly what he needed. Distraction is good,” I told her. “Thanks, Cheyenne.”

“Of course,” Cheyenne said.

“All right, enough of the Hallmark moment,” Astrid said, grabbing my hand and tugging. “Let’s go to the bar and get pissed.”

I had never worn a bikini before in my life, yet somehow I found myself standing outside in the freezing December air, wrapped in a towel, with nothing underneath but a tiny black thing with strings at my hips and tied in a bow behind my neck. Twelve friends and semistrangers stared up at me from the hot tub.

“Okay, it’s about negative fifteen degrees out here,” I said, clinging to the towel.

“That’s why you want to get into the hot tub straight away,” Astrid said.