Private 8 - Revelation (6 page)

"I'm sorry. I still can't believe they threw you out," Sonal said, her eyes wide but her voice quiet. "I mean, you were the president!"

"Yeah...," I said. There was a lump lodged in my windpipe, even though I'd yet to eat a thing. "So...why aren't you all over there trying to bribe your way in?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't you guys want to be in Billings?"

"Not really," Diana said, scrunching her nose.

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I stared at her. Aside from Ivy, I'd never heard of a girl at Easton not wanting to be in Billings.

"Why not?" I asked.

Diana looked around at her friends and shrugged. "We kind of like it where we are. It may seem boring to you guys, but at least we don't have to deal with all the drama."

"We have other priorities," Shane added with a sniff. "Like, other than shopping."

Okay, ouch. This one at least had the requisite Billings bitchiness down. "But that doesn't mean we're not curious about it," Sonal said, wiping her fingers on her napkin. "So. Tell us. If you didn't kill Cheyenne, then who do you think did?"

"Sonal!" Diana scolded again.

That was about as much as I could take. I pushed myself up from my chair.

"I have to go," I said.

"Reed, I'm sorry. You don't have to--"

"No. It's cool. Thanks, Diana," I said. "I'll see you in class."

I grabbed my coat and bag and turned around, looking forward to a speedy exit into the cold air outside. Just as I was about to push through the back door of the caf, I almost walked into Amberly Carmichael for the second time in as many days. For once she was making an appearance sans her normally hovering friends. Her wavy blond hair was back in a velvet headband and she wore a long tweed skirt over black leather boots. In her arms was a Tiffany box

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that was half the size of a cafeteria table, a box she'd come close to dropping during our near collision.

"Hey!" she snapped loudly, looking me up and down. "You break it, you buy it."

"Sorry," I said, not meaning it. She sighed, rolling her big blue eyes, and placed the box down on the empty table next to us.

"Actually, I'm glad you almost bumped into me," she said loudly, tugging her leather gloves off finger by finger. "I'll be needing that Carma Card back."

Half the cafeteria fell silent, all the better to eavesdrop. I looked around, my face turning ten shades of red. From the corner of my eye, I saw Portia and Shelby craning their necks to better see the proceedings. Noelle was looking on, amused. Clearly Amberly was performing for them. This little twit who had been kowtowing to me since the beginning of the year. The girl who would have jumped off a bridge if I'd asked her to a week ago. Now she was treating me like the hired help. Or worse. Could this be any more humiliating?

Yes, I realized, it could. If I gave the stupid piece of plastic back to her.

"Right. Like that's gonna happen," I said, tilting my head and trying for my best superior Billings Girl tone. I started by her, but she quickly stepped in front of me.

"You're not keeping it," she said with a condescending laugh. "I gave it to you. I can take it back."

All the guys sitting two tables down were watching me mirthfully,

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waiting for my breakdown. And why not? What formerly powerful junior wouldn't break down in the face of defiance from a scrawny freshman? In fact, most of the people in the room were watching me with that anticipation in their eyes. I felt myself start to crumble as giggles and snickers surrounded me, but then I saw Josh and Ivy stroll through the door hand in hand. Together they paused, instantly noting the big spotlight on my forehead. That was all I needed. No way were those two going to see me go down. And given that I had handled the disc showdown with Noelle, I could certainly deal with Amberly. "Manners, Amberly," I said, tsking under my breath. "Didn't your parents ever teach you it's impolite to rescind a gift?"

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, uncertain. Apparently this comment had somehow hit home. Guess her parents were big on propriety.

"Plus, I want to keep it as a souvenir. Maybe it'll be a collector's item after Starbucks finally destroys your dad's business," I said.

The guys at the nearest table let out a long, low "oooooh," and I couldn't help but smile. Finally, score one for me. Amberly's face turned bright red and I took the opportunity to shoulder my bag and skirt by her. I slipped right past Josh and Ivy and beelined for the door, savoring my triumph. Savoring the fact that I was still capable of having one. That maybe everything wasn't quite as hopeless as I'd thought.

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***

That afternoon Sabine, Diana, and I sat on one of the benches on the quad, going over the history reading. It was a bizarrely warm day for December, and melting ice and snow dripped from the stone buildings' rooftops into the gutter catches below. Most of Easton was taking advantage of the anomalous weather, and the quad was dotted with klatches of students, many of whom were clearly gossiping about me, of course. They kept throwing me curious looks, tilting their heads together and whispering. I couldn't believe that Sabine and Diana were so willing to risk being seen with the school pariah.

"Doesn't it bother you that everyone's staring at us?" I finally asked.

Diana glanced up from her textbook. "Are they? I didn't notice." "Doesn't bother me at all," Sabine replied with a shrug.

I grinned, touched again by Sabine's unwavering friendship. And how had I never realized how unabashedly nice Diana was? Oh, right.

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Because I had always been too busy trying to get in with the Billings Girls.

"Do you think he's going to give us a pop quiz? Because if he does, he's definitely going to ask about all these stupid baby boom statistics," Diana said, pointing at a bulleted list in the book. "Barber just loves to talk about the baby boomers."

I was about to focus--I really was--but then I saw Trey Prescott, Josh's roommate, walking by with some books tucked under his arm. Immediately I started to wonder--what did Trey think of Ivy? He had to know more about her and Josh's relationship than I did. They probably spent all kinds of time in Josh and Trey's room together. Had Trey ever heard her say anything weird or seen her act erratically? Suddenly, I had to know. And Trey was, atypically, alone, which was a blessing for me. He was a lot more likely to talk to me if he was alone. Feeling a sudden flutter of nerves, I jumped up and grabbed my bag.

"I have to go. Sorry," I said to Diana and Sabine. "But yeah. He's definitely going to ask about the baby boomers."

I took off after Trey, ignoring the baffled expressions on my friends' faces, and caught up to him right at the base of the library steps.

"Trey!" I called out.

He paused and turned around. He was wearing a thick white turtleneck sweater that set off the dark color of his skin, and he'd recently had his black hair shorn so close to his scalp that it was barely there. Trey was widely considered to be one of the hottest, sweetest, and most mature guys at Easton. Why Cheyenne had ever let him go, I had

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no idea. Somehow, he didn't seem surprised to see me jogging toward him. Even better, he didn't look remotely annoyed or disturbed by my presence.

"Hey, Reed. What's up? "he asked. He casually held his books with both hands down at waist level in front of him and looked me in the eye. "How're you doing?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm fine," I said, catching my breath. "Well, you know, not really, but--"

"I can imagine you pretty much want to blow this joint," he said, shaking his head at my gawkers. "Bunch of losers."

"So... you don't believe the rumor?" I asked tentatively, walking over to lean back against one of the metal handrails leading up to the library.

Trey scoffed and joined me, leaning next to me. "Please. You didn't kill Cheyenne any more than I did."

I winced. Little did he know, his name was on the list of potential suspects tucked into my book bag. Not that I really believed he'd done it, but still.

"The whole Dash thing, however..." He looked at me admonishingly. "Let's just not go there." "Fair enough," I replied, hugging myself against a sudden chill. Trey and Josh had become seriously close friends this year, so the last subject I wanted to broach with Trey was his feelings on my infamous slut video.

"So what's up?" he asked.

"Actually, I was just kind of wondering..."

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How the hell was I going to say this? I realized, suddenly, what a loser I was going to look like, asking about my ex's new girlfriend. But it wasn't because I was pathetically lovesick-- it was because I suspected the girl of murder.

Trey's brow creased and he looked at me with those warm brown eyes of his. "Wondering what?"

Okay, Reed. Just ask him."What do you think of Ivy?" I blurted.

Trey stared at me for a second, then laughed, bringing the side of his fist to his mouth. He pushed away from the railing. "Oh, come on. You're not really asking me that, are you? I would have thought you were above that whole jealous ex-girlfriend thing."

"I'm not asking as a jealous ex-girlfriend," I told him, my face burning. "It's not like I want Josh back."

Even though I do.

"Oh, really? " Trey said, his eyes dancing. "Then why are you asking? " I took a deep breath and waited for a pair of guys from Drake to lumber their way up the stairs to the library doors. "I think she might have killed Cheyenne," I whispered.

At this, all the mirth dropped away from Trey's face. "What?"

"It's just a theory right now," I explained. "I'm trying to gather information--"

"No. There's no way," Trey said, shaking his head. "Those two used to be best friends. Ivy would never have hurt Cheyenne."

"You don't think?" I asked. "Even after their... falling-out?"

"No way." Trey was adamant. Which, considering how convinced

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I was, kind of got under my skin. He leaned back next to me again. "Sorry, Nancy Drew. I think you're way off on this one. Even though they were hanging out with different crowds when Cheyenne died, I think there was always a connection between them, you know?"

I didn't know what to say... what to ask. I had been so sure that he would agree with me on some level that I was totally thrown. Trey looked down at the concrete steps and pushed at a wilted brown leaf with the toe of his boot.

"I still can't even believe this is happening," he mused quietly. "I mean, it's psychotic, thinking that someone on this campus might have killed her." He glanced sidelong at me and adjusted his books. "Would you believe the cops have questioned me five times already?"

I blinked, stunned. "Five times? Why?" "I am the ex-boyfriend," Trey reminded me, lifting his shoulders. "Cops love that shit."

"Right."

"Luckily I have an airtight alibi," he said. "So they finally gave up."

"Really?" I asked, trying to sound like a moderately interested friend, rather than a person who had anything riding on said alibi. But suddenly all I could think about was how happy I would be to officially cross Trey off the suspect list. "What is it?"

Trey took a deep breath and looked out across the evergreen bushes that lined the steps. "Well, actually, Josh was having a hard time sleeping, you know, after you and he..."

I gulped in some cool air and tried to ignore the tightness in my chest. "We'd broken up around then."

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"Right," Trey said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "So I was trying to help the guy out, you know? Distract him and all. We were up pretty much all night trying to beat these suckers from Malaysia on Infinite Warrior. Guys were in and out of our room all night, cheering us on, eating our food. Plus there's the site you have to link to so you can play internationally. They have a log of how long we were playing. Which was, unfortunately, way too long."

He laughed in a self-deprecating way and I let out a sigh of relief. I wasn't sure if I could handle being so very wrong about a friend again. The Ariana thing had been bad enough.

"So, anyway, sorry to burst your bubble about Ivy, but I've known the girl since freshman year. I really don't see it happening," he said, standing up straight. Yeah, well, no one had seen the Ariana thing coming either, had they? Just because Trey thought Ivy was innocent... that didn't make her innocent.

"I'll see you around," he said, lifting his chin.

"Yeah. See ya."

Trey started up the stairs to the library, then paused, his shoes scraping on the wet concrete steps. He turned and looked down at me from a few steps up.

"There is one thing. I told the police, so I guess it won't hurt to tell you," he said.

"What's that?" I asked, intrigued.

"I'm pretty sure Cheyenne was cheating on me last spring," he said, a slight blush coming to his cheeks.

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"Dominic Infante?" I suggested before I could check myself.

Dominic was a guy I had gone on one date with in New York City. He'd gotten insanely drunk and confessed that he'd slept with Cheyenne several times before her death.

Trey laughed. "No. She didn't hook up with him until this September, I don't think. No, it was someone else. She used to get these texts all the time from someone with the initials S.O. and she'd get all flustered and weird about them. Finally one day I snagged her phone and checked out the texts and they seemed totally innocent, but the way she acted when they came in... I don't know. It wasn't right." I smirked. "You checked her texts?"

"Hey. Nobody's perfect, "Trey said, spreading his arms wide.

As he jogged up the steps and disappeared into the library, my mind scrolled through all the people I'd ever met or even heard of, searching for an S.O. Of course it came up blank. But at least I now had something new to go on. Maybe the answer to all my problems would be as easy as IDing S.O.

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THAT RUSH

As I walked into the post office that afternoon, Jason Darlington was walking out. I automatically opened my mouth to say hi--we were in the same English class and we'd hung out before the Billings fundraiser debacle. He automatically went to hold the door. But when he saw it was me, his normally friendly face shut down entirely and he let the heavy door slam closed behind him. If not for my catlike reflexes, I would have been crushed.Guess that was one more person who wasn't talking to me.