The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (254 page)

If Mr. Hathaway thought we were all going back to our dorms to lie in our beds awake all night, fretting about what was to come, he was wrong. At least about me. I was up all night, but at my desk. The book was open in front of me, as well as all the notes I’d made during the last three tests. It was time to make my decisions. Which ten girls would make the cut, and which four would be out?

Some of the yeses were obvious. Tiffany, Rose, Ivy, Astrid, Kiki. All of them had aced the knowledge test, performed admirably on loyalty night, and worked the hardest on work night. Some of the nos were just as obvious. Shelby, who’d quit on her own, and, unfortunately, Constance.

Constance. My heart squeezed so tightly I thought I might actually cry as I wrote her name in the “no” column. This was going to crush her. But while everyone had done fairly well on loyalty night, Constance had had the worst score on knowledge night and hadn’t even shown up for
the final test. Going by the book, Constance would have to be deemed unworthy of membership in the Billings Literary Society. And if I was completely honest, I had to agree. She had blown off the third test to have a phone conversation with her boyfriend. A conversation she could have had before or after our gathering. Hell, if she had come to the chapel on time and told me what was up, I wouldn’t have minded if she talked to him for a few minutes while working. But she hadn’t done any of that. Billings was not a priority for her.

That awful decision made, I slowly went over the rest of the list. For a long moment, my pen hovered over Noelle’s name. Going by the book, she was in. She’d gone five for five on knowledge night, done exactly as she was told on loyalty night, and finished her chore completely on work night. But still, I had to wonder, why was she really there? She had been so adamantly against it when I’d brought the idea to her in the first place. Had she only joined so that when she got tapped she could throw it right back in my face?

But then . . . she’d kind of saved our asses tonight, coming up with that silly but distracting story. And she had one of the highest scores when it came to the three tasks. I’d promised Ivy I’d go by the book, and that meant accepting Noelle.

Ironic that it was loyalty to a promise with Ivy that put her sworn enemy in the “yes” column. I wrote Noelle’s name down, hoping I was doing the right thing.

Now it was clear to me who the final two cuts would have to be. One of them hurt. The other not so much. But I knew there would be dissension in the ranks when the final membership was revealed. I was
just going to have to deal with that when it happened. They all knew there could be only eleven members. They all knew that fifteen of us had started the process. Four were going to have to go.

With a heavy but excited heart, I drew the first square of ivory stationery toward me and began to carefully write out my taps.

Saturday morning dawned sunny and bright, and as I walked out onto the quad I was surprised by the warmth of the morning air. It was much less frigid than it had been since I’d returned to Easton, and I loosened my scarf to let my skin breathe, slowing my steps to enjoy the beautiful day.

Tucked deep inside my messenger bag were the eleven taps, including one for me. My heart fluttered with nervous excitement every time I thought about the huge step I was about to take. The hard part was over—the testing, the choosing. Very soon, the real fun would begin.

A sudden shriek sent my already alert nerves into panic mode and I whirled around. Ivy was out on the quad, wearing runners’ tights and a down jacket, and she was being attacked via snowball by some guy I’d never seen before. He had spiked hair, a black leather jacket, and some kind of red and yellow tattoo on his neck. Definitely not an
Easton boy. As I stood there, frozen in place, Ivy bent to the ground and scooped up a snowball to retaliate, flinging it back at him with a shout. Tattoo Guy packed a mound of snow together and ran at Ivy with it, sending her shrieking and running toward the steps of Hell Hall. He grabbed her around the waist, shoving some of the snow down the back of her jacket, and she screamed, laughing and batting him away. As she turned around in his arms to face him, a fistful of snow in her glove, my heart all but stopped and I instinctively ducked behind the thickest tree I could find.

They were going to kiss. Oh my God, they were going to kiss! What the hell was Ivy doing?

Holy crap. What if she was cheating on Josh?

I peeked my head around the side of the tree. Ivy and Tattoo Guy were still staring into each other’s eyes. They were far enough away that I couldn’t read their expressions, but I could tell by his body language that the guy had a thing for Ivy, and from the suspended intensity of the moment, I had to assume that Ivy was attracted to Tattoo Guy, too.

Then, finally, she shoved the snow right in his face and ran off. The guy gave chase, grabbing up a skateboard I hadn’t noticed before as he ran. A skateboard. Could this be one of the friends from Boston Ivy had told me about? Had he driven down to visit her? It was pretty early in the morning. If he’d done that, he would have had to have been up at the crack of dawn. But people did occasionally do that kind of thing. For love. Before Tattoo Guy could get anywhere near Ivy, she was safely slamming the door of Pemberly in his face with a laugh.

I leaned back against the trunk of the tree and took a deep breath.
My heart was racing as if I was the one who’d just been engaged in a flirtatious snowball fight. Ivy and Tattoo Guy flirting. Was he an ex-boyfriend or something? Did she want to get back together with him? Was she going to break up with Josh? And if any of these conjectures were even close to the truth, why hadn’t she said a word about any of it to me? We’d been spending half our time together and we were supposed to be friends. Why would Tattoo Guy go unmentioned?

Speak of the devil: Tattoo Guy jumped on his skateboard and raced right past my tree, his wheels making a jarring racket on the cobblestones, knocking me out of my stupor. No. I couldn’t think this way. Everyone flirted now and then. Everyone had off-campus friends. It didn’t mean they were about to dump their boyfriends. Josh and Ivy were together. End of story. And tonight, I had a date with Sawyer.

I slipped the taps into the mail slot and took a step back, taking a moment to myself to revel in my accomplishment. They’d said I couldn’t bring Billings back from the dead, but I had. In a big way. I was honoring the women who had founded the sisterhood. Ushering us back to the old traditions and values and rituals. Being a Billings Girl was going to mean something again. Something more than being the wealthiest, the prettiest, the most powerful girls on campus. The sisters of the Billings Literary Society were going to make a difference.

I hadn’t figured out exactly how yet, but I would. We would. Together.

“Good morning, Reed.”

I whirled around. Headmaster Hathaway stood before me, his dark wool coat buttoned, his hands hidden under thick leather gloves. Where the hell had he come from—and how had he done it
so silently? He stood so close that I backed into the wall to put a more comfortable distance between us. He, however, didn’t budge. I glanced left and right, but the post office was deserted.

“I’m surprised to see you up so early,” he said, tugging on the hem of his glove. “After our encounter this morning, I would have thought all you girls would be sleeping in.”

“I’ve always been a morning person,” I said, sliding away from him into the open area of the long, narrow room.

“Me too,” he said. “I find there’s nothing more invigorating than an early morning walk. It clears my mind. Makes me see things in a whole new light.”

I swallowed hard and glanced at the mail slot. His eyes followed mine.

“For a girl of the Internet age, you certainly spend a lot of time in the snail mail office,” he said with a joking grin.

“Yeah, well, my parents are Luddites,” I told him. “They just can’t seem to get the hang of e-mail. So I write to them at least once a week.”

I was getting so good at the lying, I was starting to freak myself out a bit.

“Well, perhaps over spring break you should spend some time tutoring them,” he said, stepping toward me. “Bring them up to speed with the rest of us.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” I said.

He hovered there for a moment, looking down at me as if he could somehow search inside my soul. Then, finally, his face broke into
that casual Graham-esque smile he’d worn so often when we were in St. Barths.

“I’d like to make something clear,” he said, taking a few steps toward the door, but turning back to look at me. “I know you’re friends with Graham and Sawyer, and I appreciate your helping them acclimate to their new school, but I was serious about what I said last night. I may have a softer hand than Mr. Cromwell, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be putting a stop to illicit behavior, and I never, ever play favorites.”

He tugged at the edges of his gloves again, then kneaded the palm of one hand with his thumb.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Clear as day, sir,” I replied, trying not to show my fear.

His eyes flicked to the mail slot again, and the smile was back. “Have a good day, Reed.”

“You, too, Mr. Hathaway,” I replied.

As the door swung shut behind him, dread spread through my chest like melting butter. He couldn’t go through the mail, could he? What if he doubled back and found the taps as soon as I left the building?

But no. He’d need the key to get behind the counter, and only Lester the mail guy had that. Besides, wasn’t tampering with the mail a federal offense or something? I took a breath and tried to shake off the creepiness of the encounter. Mr. Hathaway couldn’t touch us. Not without proof, anyway. And so far, he had nothing but a niggling suspicion.

One thing was obvious, however. He’d been serious when he said he’d be keeping an eye on us.

When I got the text from Suzel that afternoon, asking me to meet her in the solarium, I was surprised but also excited. I had suspected that she was the one who’d left the book for me, but her impromptu appearance on campus confirmed it. Now I was pretty much dying to talk to her about the whole thing. I couldn’t wait to tell her that the tasks were already complete and that I’d sent out my taps. She was going to be so proud. And so glad that she’d picked me to carry on the Billings legacy.

By the time I arrived at the solarium, I was out of breath from the speed walk across campus. The bright, airy room was jam-packed with students and the noise level was at an all-time high. I shed my coat and scanned the room for Suzel, rising up on my tiptoes to see over the crowds of laughing guys and huddles of gossiping girls.

“Hey, Reed.”

The sound warmed me from the inside out. Josh had just stood
up from the table right next to me and now stood so close our knees would have touched if I’d shifted my weight. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled slightly.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Um, nothing,” I replied. I glanced at his table. He was alone, an AP biology textbook open in front of his chair. No Ivy in sight. Was that why he was finally initiating a conversation? “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” He reached behind him and scratched at the back of his neck. “How’ve you been? I’ve been meaning to call you. . . . I heard about St. Barths. . . .”

For the first time I forced myself to look into his eyes. Now? He was going to do this now? After all these days had passed? These weeks? Suddenly he cared that I’d almost died?

Something caught my eye over his shoulder. It was Suzel, lifting her hand. She was sitting on one of the settees over by the windows, wearing a crisp black suit with a pencil skirt.

“I’m sorry. I’m kind of meeting someone,” I said. “I’ll . . . see you around, I guess.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay,” he said, his eyes darting around as if he was embarrassed.

Then he stood aside so I could pass him by. As I waved merrily at Suzel, she responded with a curt raise of a hand and an unpleasant pursing of lips.

Right. Okay. If I’d known she was going to shoot me that look, I might have taken my time getting over here.

I wove my way through the crowd, giving Tiffany and Rose a nod,
but passing them by. As I sat down at the opposite end of Suzel’s settee, I tried to shrug off the strange encounter with Josh, half wishing I’d stayed behind to talk to him. I dropped my bag on the floor and folded my coat in my lap.

“Hi, Suzel. It’s good to see you,” I said.

“Reed,” she replied coolly. Her short blond hair was perfectly coiffed and her lips perfectly outlined and glossy red. “Would you like anything to drink or eat?”

“No, thank you.”

“Good. Then I’ll get straight to the point. Whatever you girls are doing, it must stop, and it must stop now,” she said quietly, almost fiercely.

“What?” I asked, breathless. I felt as if my hair had been blown back from my face.

“Look, Reed, the Billings alumni committee is working hard to get Billings House officially reestablished,” she said, flipping her hair away from her chin. She sat up straight and smoothed her already perfectly smooth pencil skirt with both hands. I wasn’t used to this all-business Suzel. Usually she was all bright smiles and laughter, flashing her perfectly straight white teeth all over the place. “But if that’s going to happen, you and the rest of the girls are going to have to quit sneaking around campus and start acting like the model students we know you can be. Do you understand me?”

My brain felt all muddled and fuzzy. Like someone had just zapped it with twenty volts of electricity. Apparently Suzel had not been the alumna who’d left me the book. But if not her, than who?

“How did you even—”

“I’ve been reinstated to the Easton board of directors, and at our meeting yesterday afternoon, Headmaster Hathaway mentioned that there was a situation involving you girls that he was keeping a close watch on,” Suzel said. “This morning he called me to alert me to the fact that several of you, along with Ivy Slade, were caught sneaking back onto campus in the dead of night from places unknown.”