Private 8 - Revelation (5 page)

"The dinner will be held next Friday night. Dress will be formal," the headmaster continued. "Also, each student will be receiving a special note in his or her mailbox this afternoon. This note will contain the name of another Easton student. You are to select a gift for this student and bring it, wrapped in holiday paper, to the dinner, to be placed under the Easton tree."

"Yay! Presents!" Lorna said, clapping her hands. "I hope someone good gets me."

Now the talking was at an all-time high. Headmaster Cromwell raised his large hands and called for silence. Instantly, the chapel went quiet. We were all used to following his demands by now.

"Finally," he said, "the Holiday Dinner also includes a toasting hour, one of my favorite traditions. During this hour any student who wishes to do so will have the opportunity to stand up and toast another member of the Easton community, whether it be for their service to

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the school or their academic achievement or their steadfast friendship. It is an honor to be singled out during toasting hour, so if you intend to speak for someone, please prepare your toast in advance. Your speeches should be eloquent and from the heart. Anyone giving an inappropriate speech will, of course, be dealt with accordingly. That is all."

"Leave it to Cromwell to end on a sour note," Lorna said under her breath. Still, everyone around me was chatting happily, and smiles abounded. I couldn't help thinking that, for once, the Crom had gotten it right. This dinner was exactly what Easton needed. Something to look forward to. Something to get our minds off Cheyenne's murder investigation.

As soon as we were dismissed, I jumped up and exited the chapel as fast as I could. Outside, the bright sun bounced off the white blanket of snow covering the quad, nearly blinding me. I had to close my eyes for a split second, and my foot came down on someone else's. Blinking, I could just make out the purple-y shadow of Amberly Carmichael, freshman and heir to the Coffee Carma empire. I was just opening my mouth to apologize when she cut me off.

"Watch it," she snapped, yanking a white wool cap over her wavy blond hair. "I don't want to be your next victim."

Her two sidekicks, who always hovered behind her, laughed before they all sauntered off. For a second, I didn't move. I was too stunned. Since when did Amberly talk to me that way? Since when did any

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freshman talk to any upperclassman that way? And next victim? What was that about?

I looked around at the crowd still pouring through the doors. Several people who had been looking at me looked away, and a few sophomore girls hanging out near the outer wall of the chapel sneered in my direction. I saw Detective Hauer coming my way with a uniformed police officer and my pulse froze in my veins.

Please. Not here.

They walked right by me. But that was when I heard the whispers. "That's her."

"She totally did it."

"... capable of anything."

"Psycho whore, basically. That's what we should call her."

My heartbeat pounded in every inch of my body. These weren't the same scathing remarks I'd been getting before Thanksgiving break. These were worse. Venomous. What was going on?

Just then Gage Coolidge slipped through the chapel doors and started past me. My hand shot out, grabbing his leather-clad arm.

Gage paused, looked down at my hand like it was a leech, and slowly pulled his arm away. He dusted off his designer coat like I'd left a trail of ants behind.

"Not cool," he said, looking past me. His handsome face was ruddy from the cold and his eyes darted around as if concerned about who might see us together.

"Don't worry. This'll only take a second," I said, bravely squaring my shoulders. If there was anyone on this campus who had no right

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to judge someone else based on their sexual escapades, it was Gage. Plus, he had always been brutally honest. It was one of the only things I liked about him. And hated, depending on the situation. "What the hell is going on? Everyone's looking at me like I'm about to blow up the building." "Funny!" Gage said. "Amazing how you can be funny right now, Brennan. They must've raised you tough out on the farm."

I grabbed his arm again and pulled him around the corner, away from the prying eyes of the crowd. "What are they saying about me now?"

Gage scoffed, his head tipping back as he did so. "What aren't they saying? Rumor has it that you were the one who got dragged in for questioning before break. Apparently you are suspect numero uno in Cheyenne's murder."

"What?" I breathed.

"Good surprise face, kid. I like a girl who can act," Gage said, amused.

"I'm not acting, idiot," I replied. "Yeah, Hauer questioned me, but that was before they even knew for sure she was murdered. And I am not a suspect."

"That's not what everyone's saying. They're saying you offed Cheyenne so that Noelle could get back into Billings," Gage reported bluntly. He reached up to smooth his short, brown hair forward, rolling his eyes skyward as if he could see what he was doing.

"That again?" I said, throwing up my hands and letting them slap down at my sides. "Noelle quashed that one a couple weeks ago."

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"Yeah, well, it's back. Only no one thinks Noelle was involved anymore," Gage informed me. Apparently satisfied with his coif now, he shoved his ungloved hands under his arms to keep them warm. "They're saying you couldn't stand not having Noelle down the hall from you because you worship her so hard-core, so you forced Cheyenne to take those pills and forged the suicide note. They're also saying that having Noelle in Billings wasn't enough. You wanted to be Noelle, and that's why you got all horizontal with her boyfriend."

My brain couldn't process this information. It was bad enough being looked upon as a backstabbing slut. Now everyone thought I was a murderer, too? I glanced around at the few people walking along the path to the library and once again, every last one of them quickly looked away.

"Was it because you didn't get enough love out there in East Bumblefart, Pennsylvania?" Gage asked, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Is that why you do the things you do, Brennan?"

"I didn't do anything," I said through my teeth, my fingers clenching into fists. "Cheyenne was leaving anyway--she was expelled."

"Yeah. You just keep telling yourself that," Gage said. "You know, if the world isn't giving you enough hugs, you can always hug yourself, " he said mockingly, crossing his arms in an X over his chest with a sad little frown. Then he laughed and strode away with his signature swagger.

I stood there for a moment in shock, unable to move or think or breathe. Noelle was the only person who knew I had been the one to be questioned by Hauer that night. Why would she do this? Why

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would she start such a vicious rumor? Hadn't I been through enough already?

Unless she was trying to send me a message. Trying to tell me how very over we actually were. This wasn't something you did to a person you planned to eventually forgive. This was something you did to a person you hated to her very core. My eyes filled with hot tears. Noelle hated me. She really and truly hated me.

A few girls from Pemberly walked by and saw me standing there, looking like I'd just been told I had three days to live. They all clutched each other and moved quickly away, like they thought I might suddenly attack. On their retreat they nearly ran over Josh Hollis and Ivy Slade. My boyfriend and my stalker. My boyfriend and the murderer.

My whole body went numb at the sight of Josh. His dark blond curls danced in the wind, and his blue eyes looked pained as he passed by me, like he wanted to talk. Almost like he was desperate to talk to me. But then Ivy tightened her grip on his arm and he turned away, ducking through the door to Hull Hall.

That was it. It was all I could take. I shoved my notebook into my bag and took off for class alone.

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INSIGNIFICANT

I survived that first day back by focusing on my teachers when I was in class and keeping my head down and my earbuds in when I wasn't. At lunch I grabbed a sandwich and ate it by myself outside in the frigid air. Dinner I skipped entirely. Basically I played right into my new role--that of campus outcast extraordinaire.But after another sleepless night, I realized I couldn't live like this. First, I loved breakfast. Pretty much lived for it, actually. And second, I didn't want to prove everyone right. I couldn't slink around campus and let them think I was guilty. I hated proving people right. From that morning on I was going to hold my head high. People could say what they wanted. It wasn't going to affect me.

Besides, I wanted to keep an eye on Ivy whenever I could. Who knew when she might trip up and give something away? I wanted to be there when it happened.

Of course, when I emerged from the breakfast line on Tuesday 51

morning I immediately doubted the sagacity of my plan. My eyes instinctively darted to the Billings tables and I felt such an instant and intense longing I almost fell over. There they were. My old friends. Looking as beautiful and untouchable as ever. They laughed and chatted and passed around holiday catalogs and checked out one another's notes for class. Somehow, they seemed even more stylish and alluring and perfect than usual. Like when Josh had miraculously woken up even hotter the day after we'd broken up.

I forced myself to look at the other tables and seek out some new place to sit. But only wary, suspicious faces greeted me.

What was I thinking? This was never going to work. There was nowhere for me to go.

"Hey, Reed."

I flinched, startled that someone was actually talking to me. When I turned around I found Diana Waters, Kiki's roommate in Bradwell last year, hovering behind me. Behind her were two of her friends from Pemberly--Sonal Shah and Shane Freundel, people I knew vaguely from class. I had noticed Diana hanging out with them ever since Kiki had been invited to live in Billings.

"Hi, Diana," I said. "Hey," I added to the girls behind her. They gaped at me as if amazed I possessed the ability to speak.

"You can sit with us, if you want," Diana offered, a smile lighting up her pretty, makeup- free face. She pushed a blond wave off her shoulder.

I was so relieved I could have hugged her, but at the same time

52 some shallow part of my inner being felt exactly how far I had fallen. A couple of weeks ago I had basically been the queen of this place. I'd had the most sought-after guys falling all over each other to ask me out and all the most elite girls at Easton hanging on my every word. Now a group of lowly Pemberly juniors in jeans, hoodies, and sneakers were extending a pity invite to their breakfast table. I could only imagine the giggles Noelle would get out of this.

Still, it was better than eating alone.

"Thanks," I said.

I managed to keep my chin up as I followed them to their table in the far wing, away from the center of the room where the Billings Girls held court. I refused to look to see if Noelle and the others were watching. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction. But I felt as if I were under a harsh spotlight as I walked, and when I finally fell into a chair at Diana's table, I felt exhausted.

"Nice table," I said, forcing a smile for Diana and her friends. "Very private."

They all smiled in a self-conscious way, but no one replied. Ooookay.

Trying to act as if everything was perfectly normal, I picked up my bottle of apple juice, shook it up, and popped the top. As I took a sip, I realized that Diana and her two friends were all communicating with one another silently, darting looks and nudging shoulders. Sour apprehension filled my stomach.

"What?" I said, lowering the bottle.

53 "You didn't actually kill Cheyenne Martin, right?" Sonal asked. She was big-boned with dark skin and black curly hair and had a slight Hindi accent. Her dark eyes were wide behind her glasses.

"Sonal! God!" Diana said with a scoff, her cheeks turning pink. She shot me an apologetic look as she buttered her bagel. "Of course Reed didn't."

"No, of course I didn't," I echoed quietly.

This seemed to appease both Sonal and Shane. I saw their shoulders visibly relax.

"So, what's it like to live in Billings?" Shane asked, crunching into an apple. The juice sprayed all over the place. She was a tall, athletic type with plain brown hair and plain brown eyes.

My heart twisted at the question. "It's... uh..."

"Is it true you each have your own personal maid?" Sonal asked, scooting forward in her chair.

"No. Where did you hear--"

"But you do get an allowance every week from the alumni, right?" Shane asked. "Everyone knows that."

"Well, not exactly. We don't--"

"Do you guys really have champagne parties every Friday night?" Sonal demanded. "I mean, did you? And were guys really allowed to come?" "Yeah. That one's true," I said. "Except for the guys..."

I glanced over at the Billings tables again and paused. Noelle, who always sat near the edge of the table, had several boxes and gift bags piled around her feet. Portia and the Twin Cities were pawing through

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a huge gift basket filled with Fekkai hair products and M.A.C. makeup and Bliss Spa essentials in the center of the table. As I watched, a steady stream of junior and senior girls stopped by the table to chat, each offering some kind of gift.

"That's weird," I said under my breath.

"What?" Diana asked, glancing over.

"It's a little early for Christmas gifts, isn't it?" I said.

"Oh, those aren't Christmas gifts," Sonal said, shaking some salt over her scrambled eggs.

"You haven't heard?" Diana appeared confused.

I instantly got that tight feeling around my heart. The one I get whenever everyone knows something I don't.

"Heard what?" I asked.

"Everyone's been talking about it since yesterday morning, "Diana said, taking a bite of her bagel. "They're looking for someone to--" She stopped midsentence and looked at me guiltily. I felt as if someone had just yanked my chair out from under my butt.

"Someone to replace me," I finished. Slowly, I pushed my tray of pancakes away, no longer hungry.