Private 09 - Paradise Lost (2 page)

Cromwell held up a hand to silence the crowd. "But I do have a few announcements to make before I go," he said. "First, due to the events of last night, the school will be breaking early for the holiday. Which means you are all excused from your finals." This announcement was met with stunned silence. I was sure that a few of my classmates wanted to celebrate--I could practically feel the strain as they held back whoops of joy like a hundred overfilled helium balloons--but no one uttered a sound. Considering that Ivy was in the hospital, that yet another of our classmates had turned out to be a murderer, celebrating just didn't seem appropriate.

"The Board of Directors has discussed the situation, and we all believe that it would be best for you students to take this time to be with your families while the Board discusses how we might better ensure the security of the student body."

"He sounds like he's issuing a statement to the press," Diana whispered, tucking her hands under her arms.

"He's practicing," Missy Thurber said, leaning in from behind us. "Did you see the vultures parked outside the gates this morning? The press smells blood in the water, and they're about to chow down."

"You're mixing your metaphors again, Missy," I scolded through my teeth. When I glanced over my shoulder, I found myself staring into those yawning nostrils of hers. Ick.

"Whatever. I wouldn't be surprised if they shut down this place," Missy replied, sitting back again. "Parents have been calling all night. People are freaked out. I'm freaked out. I mean, I lived down the hall from the girl."

Yeah, and I'm the one who had a gun pointed at her head last night. Boo-freaking-hoo, Nostril Girl.

"Thank you for your time and attention," Mr. Cromwell said awkwardly. "You're all dismissed." The room filled with chatter and exhausted-yet-exhilarated students jammed the aisles. I found Noelle as quickly as I could. She was on her way out the door with Amberly Garmichael and Tiffany Goulbourne, her long black coat contrasting sharply with Tiff's pristine white jacket. Amberly wore a light-blue coat with white gloves and a white hat and looked like a little American Girl doll. I felt a rush of anger at the sight of her--at the girl who'd taken my place in Billings and had ransacked my Pemberly single-but I did my best to push it back down.

"Noelle, wait!" I called, jogging to catch up.

They paused just outside the door and waited. Each had her cell phone out and ready, probably to spread the news that we'd been freed.

"Hey," Noelle said, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder. "Crazy stuff."

"I know," I replied, catching my breath. "Missy said they might close the school for good."

"Close Easton?" Amberly gasped, her blue eyes wide. "Can they do that?" Noelle snorted a laugh and adjusted her cashmere scarf. "No. Please. The school hasn't done anything wrong."

"Although they do keep admitting the crazies," Tiffany said, covering her short black curls with a red cabbie hat. "And we keep inviting them into Billings."

"We didn't invite Sabine," I pointed out, shoving my hands into my pockets as a stiff wind blew by. "Cromwell put her there."

"True," Tiffany said as her phone trilled. "It's my dad. I have to take this." She moved away a few steps as Noelle, Amberly, and I started to walk across the quad. Noelle wisely maneuvered her way between Amberly and me, acting as a human buffer.

"Speaking of invitations to Billings, Reed, I'm sure you know we want you back next semester," Noelle said.

An instant thrill ran through me. "Seriously?"

"What?" Amberly blurted at the same moment.

Noelle paused and gave me a look that was half condescension, half apology. It would have been hard for anyone other than her to pull it off.

"Of course. Now that we know Sabine was behind everything, I'm sure everyone will agree," she said. "I plan to take a vote on it this afternoon, but I can't imagine who might vote nay."

At this, she turned to the side to give Amberly a pointed look. Amberly inspected her nails.

"You will accept the invitation, of course," Noelle said to me.

"Of course," I said, even though there was a twinge of trepidation inside my chest. "I mean, it will be a little strange after living there with Sabine for so long...." I took a deep breath and looked across the quad toward Billings House. My fists clenched inside my pockets.

"I can't believe I trusted her," I said, as humiliation and fury bubbled in my veins-something I clearly was going to have to get used to. I had a feeling that my relationship with Sabine would haunt me for the rest of my life. "How could I have been so stupid?"

"Hey. We all thought she was a sweet, innocent little thing," Noelle said.

"Not you. You never liked her," I pointed out.

Noelle smiled wryly and cocked her head. "Yes, but I rarely like anyone." I actually cracked a smile at that one. Then I heard shouts in the distance and knew that reporters were firing questions at some poor soul who had just driven up to the gates. 

"They're going to be all over us," I said.

"No doubt," Noelle said, staring off in the direction of the dorms and the driveway beyond. Then, slowly, she looked at me and smiled, her brown eyes bright. "Unless we're not here." I blinked. "What do you mean?" I asked, as Tiffany finished her phone call and rejoined us.

Noelle grabbed Gage as he skulked by. He glared down at her hand, but he paused.

"What? "He looked pale, and there was a crease across his left cheek from his pillowcase. Not the coiffed Gage I knew and didn't love.

"Everyone's still going to St. Barths, right?" Noelle asked.

"That's the plan," Amberly said.

"No doubt," Gage replied, looking off into the distance. "I plan on being hammered and stupid for at least two weeks."

"So the usual, then?" Noelle joked.

"You should have a stand-up routine, Lange," Gage snapped. Noelle turned to Tiffany. "Tiff? You in?"

"Oh, I'm so there," Tiffany replied. "Dad has a Vogue shoot a couple days before Christmas. I'm going to assist." Her father, Tassos, was a world-renowned fashion and entertainment photographer. "Actually, Kiran is one of the models." Gage visibly brightened at this news. "Oh, tell me it's a swimsuit thing," he begged.

"It's a swimsuit thing," Tiffany confirmed grudgingly.

"Yes!" Gage cheered. "Hammered, stupid, and laid." I rolled my eyes. Boy bounced back quickly.

Noelle focused her brown eyes on me. "Reed, you're coming with." She lifted her iPhone and hit the screen. "I'm going to call Donnie right now and let him know we'll be one more."

"Who's Donnie?" I asked.

"Our pilot," Noelle replied.

I laughed and placed my hand over her hand on the phone. "Wait, wait. I can't go to St. Barths. My parents will want me home for Christmas. Especially after all this." Noelle looked at me as if I were a puppy who'd just peed on the floor. "Reed. Think about it. Thomas was your boyfriend. Ariana tried to kill you. Now Ariana's sister has tried to kill you. You go home, and the entire news media is going to take over West Wackadoodle, PA, and, while it might be fabu business for the local IHOP, they will camp out on your front lawn and spend the entire break tearing into your every secret. Do you really want to put your family and friends through that?"

My heart pretty much stood still. I could just see the headline now: STALKED SCHOLARSHIP STUDENT CONFESSES: MY MOM'S A FORMER JUNKIE.

"It's settled, then. You're coming with us," Noelle said, accurately reading my silence. " For the next two weeks it's nothing but sun, sand, and mojitos for us." There were more shouts from the distance. The zoom of a rushing engine. I wondered if one of the news vans was getting ready to ram through the front gate. "We can deal with whether or not we'll have a school to come back to later," she added under her breath.

So she wasn't that confident in Easton's staying power after all. I swallowed hard and looked around the quad at the familiar buildings and faces as Noelle made her phone call. A world without Easton? After everything I had been through, that was one blow I wasn't sure I could survive.

CHAPTER 3 THE UPTON GAME

"So, Noelle, are you going to play the Upton Game this year?" Tiffany asked as we kicked back in our cushy leather seats on the Lange family's private plane the next morning. Our chairs were arranged in a sort of conversation pit, so that we could all see one another. Toward the back were four more seats, lined up against the walls like in a regular plane, except they each were singles with tables at either arm. Only one was occupied. Noelle's father, whom I hadn't met yet, had been talking intensely into his cell phone ever since we arrived at the airport and hadn't even glanced our way. Noelle's mother was already in St. Barths and would be meeting our plane when we landed.

"I'm not sure you guys could handle the competition," Noelle said, arranging the skirt of her black linen dress around her legs. She and Tiff both were already outfitted for the islands--Tiff in tan shorts, a white short-sleeve shirt, and stacked espadrilles--while I was bundled up in a wool sweater and jeans, my thick coat shoved into the overhead compartment. I was, thank God, a newly reminted Billings Girl after yesterday's successful vote, but I certainly didn't look the part. I wondered exactly how hot I'd be when I stepped off the plane.

Tiffany laughed at Noelle. "Look at the ego on this one!" She accepted a flute of champagne from the flight attendant and curled up her long legs onto her seat. I passed on my glass. No alcohol for me. Not for a while. "Gome on, Noelle! It's your first Dash-less Christmas in forever. You have to play."

My heart took a nosedive that, luckily, had nothing to do with the plane doing something funky. Dashless?

"Okay, I'm confused," I said as the flight attendant deposited a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries on the table between me and Tiffany. "A, what is the Upton Game? And B, Noelle . . . since when are you Dash-less? I thought you guys got back together." Noelle took a long sip from her champagne glass, and then placed it down on the table at her side. "Not anymore."

I attempted to swallow. "You broke up? What happened?" Noelle shot Tiffany a look, and Tiff focused her gaze out the window. "Honestly? It seems that once you've seen your boyfriend hook up with one of your best friends, it becomes rather hard to kiss him without thinking of where his lips have been," Noelle answered. My face burned. I was the best friend. I had ruined Noelle's relationship with Dash. For good. "Noelle--"

"So, the Upton Game!" Noelle said loudly, brightly, slapping her hands down on her lap.

She wasn't going to talk to me about Dash. I guess I could understand that. But I felt a sting in my chest nonetheless. Our friendship had changed, and not in a good way.

"Yes, let's fill in Reed." Tiffany reached for a chocolate-covered strawberry and bit into it.

"Okay. Tiffany and I have been going down to St. Barths ever since we were in strollers." Noelle paused for a moment, and I knew that she was thinking about how she hadn't been able to go last year because of Thomas's trial. "And we're not the only ones. There's a whole group of us."

"Like Gage," I supplied. Unfortunately.

"Gage, Kiran, Paige, and Daniel Ryan, Weston Bright, the Hathaways--"

"Poppy Simon--"

"Of Simon International," Tiffany put in, passing the tray of strawberries to me. I selected one and took a bite. Its flavors exploded in my mouth. Much better than the dry pretzels on my last flight. "Her family owns this sick chain of hotels all over the world, including one on the island. We hang out there a lot."

"Poppy is outrageous," Noelle added. "I'm interested to see what you think of her." She leaned back and narrowed her eyes. "Who else... oh, Dash," she said through her teeth in a tone that forbade any further questioning. "And, of course, Upton Giles." She shot Tiffany a sly look, and Tiffany swooned dramatically. She fanned at her neck, opening her white collared shirt wide. "Oh, Upton Giles .. .," she sighed.

"You got that right."

Noelle leaned forward, and they clinked glasses.

"Who's Upton Giles?" I asked.

Noelle took a breath, swigged her champagne, and turned to us. "Upton Giles is the single hottest male specimen ever to walk the earth."

Noelle was not one for over exaggeration. If she said the guy was drop-dead, he was drop-dead. I immediately thought of Josh, who had yet to call me, text me, or e-mail me. I wondered if he knew I was headed to St. Barths. He had to have heard it through Gage or

"Weston or someone, right? I pulled out my iPhone to quickly check for messages. There was nothing.

My heart twinged, and I put down the phone. Moving on, Reed, remember? You're moving on.

I looked at Noelle. "So . . . Upton Giles is the object of the Upton Game?"

"Exactly," Noelle replied.

Tiffany cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. "Every year, all the girls in the crew compete for Upton's . . . affection," Tiffany explained.

"Back when we were twelve, it was all about who could get a peck on the cheek from Upton first," Noelle explained, slightly lowering her voice. "But now that we're older, things have gotten a bit more intense."

"Basically, whoever hooks up with Upton first wins the Upton Game," Tiffany clarified, taking a sip of champagne.

I nearly choked on a large bite of strawberry. "Omigod. Ew!" I said, covering my mouth.

"You guys all have hooked up with Upton? "

"Reed! Please! I don't think my father could quite hear you," Noelle admonished, swiveling in her seat to check the back of the plane. But her father was still barking away on the phone. She settled in, smoothing her long black skirt over her legs. '7 have not. Cheek peck back in the day? Yes. But for the last few years I've been . . . otherwise occupied, guywise." Noelle and I avoided eye contact.

"But pretty much everyone else has hooked up with him," Tiffany added, swigging from her champagne glass again.

I looked at Tiffany. As long as I had known her, she'd never had a serious boyfriend. In a weird way, I had always thought she was sort of above the petty pursuit of guys. She usually had so much other stuff going on. Her love of photography kept her well occupied--she always was shooting for classes, for fun,' for the school paper, and sometimes even for magazines in New York City. She also was a straight-A student and sang in the Easton Chorale. The thought of her with a guy was totally out of context.