by Kate Brian
“Right. What is it?” I asked.
“It's some huge party in the city or something,” Constance said. “It's all very hush-hush. At least from people like us.”
I blinked. “People like us?” Other than our both being sophomores, Constance and I had pretty much zero in common.
“Non-legacies,” Constance said. “Only people who come from, like, a long line of private-school people are invited. So not people like us.”
Now it was my turn to sink into my seat. So that was what those girls had meant when they'd said they'd never see me there. “Oh. Really? ”
'Yeah. Sucks, huh?“ Constance said. ”It sounds like it's gonna be incredible. Missy Thurber said that last year every guy who
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went got a platinum Rolex and every girl got a limited-edition Harry Winston necklace. I'd kill for a Harry Winston anything. My mom won't let me have any good jewelry until I'm eighteen. She thinks I'll lose it."
“Bummer,” I said, my hopes of seeing Thomas slipping away before my eyes.
“But, hey, you're in Billings now, so maybe you'll get to go anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know. The Billings Girls get everything,” Constance said, like it was so obvious. “You probably get an automatic invite or something.”
I considered this theory for a moment. It wasn't a bad one, actually. Everyone at Easton knew that the Billings Girls were never left out of anything unless they chose to leave themselves out. Maybe this would be my first chance to exercise my automatic in. And see Thomas. God, I hoped so.
“Omigod! There he is!” Constance said suddenly, grabbing my arm.
My heart completely stopped. I looked out the window. “Thomas?”
“No! Walt Whittaker,” Constance whispered, pulling her desk closer to mine. “I heard he was back from his trip.”
Instantly, every single part of me drooped. Nice tease. I turned around and sure enough, standing in the hallway outside the classroom talking to our trig teacher, was none other than Whit
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himself. The Twin Cities, London and Vienna, hovered nearby, clutching their books, clearly waiting for him to finish his conversation. Apparently, whatever London was planning on using Whit for, the campaign had begun.
“You know him?” I asked.
“Know him? Our parents are totally old friends,” Constance said, still gripping my arm. “They're the ones who actually suggested I apply here. Omigod, look at him. He is so hot.”
Internal alarm. I sat up a bit straighter. “What?”
“Wow. He's totally lost weight,” Constance said, all starry- eyed. “He must be working out.”
Lost weight? Really? Huh. What had he been tipping the scales at before? Three bills?
“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Do you . . . like him?” I asked.
Constance ripped her gaze away from Whit for the first time and looked at me. She might as well have been one of those blissed-out fans in the front row at some pop concert.
“I've had a crush on him since I was about ten,” she said. “Of course, he barely even knows I exist, but I--”
“What about Clint?” I asked. She did, after all, have a boyfriend back in New York.
Constance scoffed. “Omigod, if Walt Whittaker showed any interest in me at all, I would dump Clint like that.” She added a finger snap to show just how quickly.
“Wow. I had no idea,” I said, sliding down in my seat again.
I could hardly believe that a guy like Whit could inspire such
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ardor in a girl, but it just went to show there was someone for everyone. And it turned out that Constance's someone just happened to be the same someone who had stuck his tongue down my throat just a couple of nights ago.
“Oh, no one does. I keep it completely on the DL,” Constance said, then gasped. “Don't tell anyone, okay?”
“Don't worry, I won't.”
Just like I won't be telling you about a certain illicit encounter with a certain someone in the woods Sunday night.
Just what I needed. More secrets from more people. Pretty soon it was going to get tough keeping them all straight.
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FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS
Another night passed. Then another. There was no word of Thomas. Every hour of every day was occupied with either chores, class, or avoiding Natasha, which wasn't easy, considering we shared a room. I hadn't searched Noelle's room or anyone else's. Hadn't so much as opened a drawer. The longer Natasha went without mentioning it, the more I hoped she might just forget about it.
A girl could dream.
Still, all the work and worry and stealth maneuvering to avoid her took their toll. I couldn't sleep, could hardly eat, and was still waiting for the police to come talk to me. By the end of the week, I felt like a shadow of my former self.
On Friday at lunch I placed my overloaded tray at the end of the Billings table and handed out the food I had been told to procure. Then I dropped down into one of two empty seats and pulled out my trig text with a sigh. I had a quiz that afternoon. I couldn't even remember what chapter it was supposed to cover.
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Listlessly, I flipped through the pages, noticing my raw, irritated fingertips, red from cleaning products and chapped from too much washing. My knuckles were cracked as well and there were little nicks and cuts all over my hands. I was truly becoming a hard laborer.
A shadow fell over my book just as I decided on a chapter to read through. Or more likely, one sentence to read through over and over and over again without absorbing a thing. Someone cleared his throat. Finally I looked up.
Whit hovered over me, his hands behind his back, a mischievous smile on his face. He wore a green sweater with a tiny hound's-tooth pattern that on him looked like way too many hound's teeth.
“Hello, Reed,” he said, near giddy.
“Hi...?”
I looked around at the others. A few of them watched with interest. London, who sat at the next table just behind Noelle, seemed especially intrigued. She actually stopped grooming and turned around.
“What's up?” I said.
“I have something for you,” Whit told me. “Nothing big. Don't worry. I just... I saw them and I thought of you.”
Big gulp.
“Them?” I said.
Whittaker produced a small box from behind his back. It was gray and shiny and had gold lettering. I stared at it.
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Whatever was in that box, I had a feeling it was not “just friends” appropriate. In fact, no random gift on a random day would be “just friends” appropriate. This was not good.
I glanced around. A few people at adjacent tables were starting to take notice. London glared at me with obvious envy and Vienna looked, in a word, stunned. I glimpsed Constance just entering the lunch line at the back of the room. Apparently she hadn't seen.
“Go ahead. Open it,” Whittaker said.
If I made a big stink about this, we would only draw more attention. And right now, the one person who really didn't need to see this was hidden from view.
“God, Reed, what's the hesitation?” Kiran asked. “It's jewelry.”
'You're giving her jewelry?" Josh asked, looking annoyed.
“It's not a big deal,” Whittaker said. “Just open it, Reed.”
I sm
iled at Whittaker, embarrassed for both of us, and took the box. I quickly lifted the lid and removed the small black velvet box inside. My hands trembled as I struggled to crack it open. Finally it popped wide with a creak, startling me. The whole thing almost slipped out of my fingers, but I caught it just in time.
“Holy crap,” I blurted.
Everyone laughed. Sitting against the black satin were two large, square diamonds. Earrings. More expensive than anything I had ever owned, or would ever own, in my lifetime probably. Taylor and Kiran both stood on their toes to see into the box. London and Vienna both knelt on their chairs and turned around, nearly knocking each other over to get a look.
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“What the hell?” London blurted, earning an admonishing whack from Vienna. London dropped back into her chair and sulked.
“Wow. Nice choice, Whit,” Kiran said. “You have a good eye.”
Whittaker beamed at the praise. “I was in town for dinner with my grandmother last night and I saw them in a shop window and I just knew you had to have them,” he said. “What do you think? Do you like them?”
Diamond earrings. My very own diamond earrings. All the other girls at the table had similar pairs. Whenever they wore them I tried not to stare, not to covet. But now I had my own. I had no idea what to say. Except why, why, why was he giving these to me?
“They're . . . they're gorgeous,” I told him. Then I screwed up every ounce of strength in my soul to add, “But I can't accept them.”
“Sure you can,” Whittaker said, without missing a beat.
“They're too much,” I said.
“Reed,” Noelle said through her teeth. “Don't be rude.”
I glanced around at the girls. They were all giving me the same admonishing look. Was that what I would be doing if I didn't take these earrings that probably could have paid for my entire tuition? If I got him back that money so that he wouldn't be wasting it on someone who was not now, nor would ever be, attracted to him? If I refused to lead him on, would that be rude in their world?
From the death glares I was currently fielding, apparently so.
I looked up at Whit. He looked so hopeful and happy. The last
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thing I wanted to do was humiliate him in front of everyone. And besides, Constance would be re-emerging from the lunch line at any second. I couldn't let her see this. Unless I wanted to crush her.
“Thank you, Whit. This was really . . . sweet of you,” I said finally. I closed the box and placed it back inside the larger one.
“It was my pleasure,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.
Then he glanced over my shoulder. “Oh! There's Mrs. Solerno. I haven't seen her yet. My grandmother would kill me if I didn't say hello.”
Who was this grandmother? And how could I get her to stop taking him into town and letting him blow his wad on ill-advised gifts?
“I'll be right back,” he said.
Then he squeezed my shoulder and walked off.
“Wow. I guess Whit really likes you,” Ariana said the second he was gone.
“Good for Whit,” Dash said, like a proud papa.
“Moving on already, huh, Reed?” Josh asked.
My cheeks burned and everyone fell silent for a long moment. Josh's face flushed too, as if he had just realized how hurtful his words were, and he averted his eyes.
“First of all, Hollis, Reed's personal life is none of your business,” Noelle snapped. “Second, your little buddy bailed without so much as a warning. She has every right to move on.”
“Sorry,” Josh said. He crumpled up his napkin and threw it down. “I gotta go.”
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He shoved himself up from the table, shot me an apologetic look, and walked off. For some reason, I couldn't swallow for a solid minute. Everyone watched me and waited.
“Uh, hate to burst your bubble, everyone,” I said finally, tremulously. “But Whittaker and I are just friends.” I quickly stashed the earrings in the bottom of my bag.
“Shyah, right,” Gage said, sucking on his soup spoon. “ 'Cause I buy all my friends five-thousand-dollar earrings for no reason.”
My mind spun. Five thousand dollars. Five thousand dollars.
“Come on, new girl. Give the poor guy a shot,” Dash wheedled, popping a few grapes into his mouth. “He deserves to get a little.”
Noelle whacked his arm with the back of her hand and all the guys snickered.
“Ha ha,” I said, pretending to focus again on my book. “Sorry to disappoint, but we really are just friends. It was his idea to be just friends.”
“Uh-huh,” Natasha said under her breath. Her voice gave me chills. “You just keep telling yourself that.”
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TRUE COLORS
“Reed.”
I kept walking, ducking my head into the wind. I couldn't hear her. The wind was too loud. Let her believe that I couldn't hear her.
“Reed! Reed, I know you can hear me.”
I stopped walking and turned around to face Natasha. Her curls danced around her head in the wind, giving her a very Medusa look.
“I know you've been avoiding me,” she said, hugging a couple of notebooks to her chest. “And I've let you because I was giving you time to do your job. So tell me. What have you found?”
“Nothing,” I replied.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Nothing?”
I sighed and looked at my feet. “I've kind of had other things on my mind, Natasha,” I said, trying to sound annoyed. Annoyed and unaffected and not scared. “You know . . . school, soccer, missing boyfriend?”
Take pity. Come on. You know you want to take pity.
"Weren't thinking about the missing boyfriend much when
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you were crawling all over Whittaker, were you?“ she said. ”Thomas is on that e-mail list, too, you know. Do you want him to come back and find out what you really are?"
My face burned with anger. “And what's that?”
Natasha took a step closer to me. Her eyes were amused. “A cheating, drunken slut who's too weak to stand up and take care of herself. Maybe he'd like to know about those little baubles in your bag as well. Accepting gifts from another guy,” she said, clucking her tongue. “Yeah. You sure are the faithful, concerned girlfriend.”
I could have hit her. I could have smacked her right then and there. And I might have, if several teachers and police officers hadn't been milling around the quad at that very moment.
“You don't owe them anything, Reed,” Natasha said. “Do what's right. Or you know what I'm going to have to do.”
She turned and strolled off, carefree, as if we'd been discussing the weather. When I turned around, I was face-to-face with Josh. My hand flew to my chest. I really didn't think I could take much more of this.
“Sorry,” he said, adjusting the strap on his backpack. “I scared you.”
“It's fine,” I said, pushing past him. I didn't have any room for more of his jabs.
“Reed! Can I just apologize?” he asked.
I stopped and blew out a breath. Then I turned to face him.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded.
He looked almost desperate as he stepped toward me. “I don't know. I'm sorry. It just came out.”
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“Well, Noelle was right. It's really none of your business what I do,” I told him.
“Reed, come on. Don't say that,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because. I was hoping we could be ... I don't know . . . friends,” he said, lifting his shoulders. 'You're one of the only normal people at this school and I... I like you."
It was such a simple, sweet statement that I felt my tension start to ebb. 'You do?"
Josh smiled. He had a perfect, boyish smile. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then why did you say that?” I asked him. “It kind of stung, you know.”
“I know. I'm sorry. I can be judgmental sometimes. It's a flaw,” he said. “I will work on it, though. If you'll forgive me.”
Somehow, I found myself grinning. “Okay, fine. You're forgiven.”
“Really? Thank you. I really am sorry--”
I held up a hand. “Let's just not talk about it anymore, okay?”
“Fair enough. Well, better get to class.”
Right. Class. Somehow that supposedly important aspect of being here at Easton had dropped fairly low on my priority list.
“See you later?” he asked.
“Definitely,” I replied.
Then I turned and walked off smiling toward my class building. Unbelievable. In two seconds Josh Hollis had actually almost made me forget entirely about Natasha's threats.
Almost.
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ACCUSATION
My foot bounced up and down under my desk as I sat in trig class before the bell, trying to cram in some last-minute information. I shot a pathetic smile at Constance as she dropped into the seat next to mine.
“Ready for the quiz?” I asked.
'Yeah. So I have a question.“ Her voice was unnaturally high- pitched. She laced her fingers together on her desk as she turned to me. ”Why is Walt Whittaker giving you gifts?"
My stomach turned. This was not what I needed right now.
'You saw that?" I asked, rubbing at a sudden headache that had just sprung up between my eyes.
“No. Missy and Lorna did,” she replied. “I don't believe this. Yesterday I'm pouring my heart out to you about my feelings for him,” she said under her breath. “And the whole time you two have a thing going on. I'm such an idiot.”
“No, Constance. It is so not like that,” I said. “We do not have a thing going on. There is no thing.”
