Inner Circle

by Kate Brian

  "I love you, too." Belief. Even though I had known he would say it--that he'd wanted to say it all those months ago when I'd almost left Easton for good- part of me had been afraid. That he'd changed his mind. That he'd never felt it in the first place. But he did. He still did. "You have no idea how long I've been biting my tongue to keep from saying that to you," he half whispered. "After that day when you stopped me--" "I know. I'm sorry," I told him. "But it doesn't matter anymore. Now you can say it as much as you want." Josh took a step back, eyebrows raised adorably. "Really? You mean I can say I love you? I love you, I love you, I love you?"

  I cracked up laughing. "I like the way it sounds, just coming off my tongue," he said, gesturing with his hands. He yanked a T-shirt out of the closet and pulled it on over his head. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Huh. Cool." "Okay. Let's not wear it out on the first day," I said, so giddy inside, it was almost too much. "Yeah, yeah. You and your rules." He took a pair of boxer briefs out of his drawer and pulled them on under the towel, then did the same with a pair of cords, and shed the towel completely. Then he jammed his feet into his suede sneakers and grabbed his messenger bag.

  "Breakfast, my love?" he asked, opening the door for me. "Why, yes, my love," I joked back. He kissed me again on my way through the door and we swung our entwined fingers between us as we walked to the cafeteria. It no longer mattered whether Cheyenne wanted him or not. Josh was mine. No one was ever going to come between us.

  * * *

  "Where's Sabine?" Trey asked me at breakfast. Her chair, across from mine, was conspicuously empty. The sun pouring through the skylight overhead sent a bright shaft of light right across it like it were trying to spotlight the fact that she wasn't there. "She was still in the shower when I left," I told him. Josh took my hand under the table and squeezed. My heart felt like it was playing on the uneven bars. He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Hey, have I told you I love you?" Shivers everywhere. "Yeah, I think I've heard that somewhere before." Happiness. This was what happiness felt like. Gage strolled by with his tray, his aviator sunglasses covering his eyes, and the sight of him didn't even irritate me. Happiness. Then Cheyenne pushed herself up from the next table and slithered over to him. Didn't care. Not one bit. Happiness.

  "Ga-age! I have a surprise for you!" Cheyenne sang. He looked her up and down. "Been there, done that." She managed to laugh as if she wasn't offended. "Not me. Just stand there for one . .. more . .. second." As if on cue, Sabine emerged from the breakfast line, carrying a tray full of food. But she didn't look anything like the island girl I knew. She looked like a New England tartlet. Plaid mini. Bare knees. High-heeled boots. Tight, white, button-front shirt. Sleek, slicked-back ponytail. As she came around the first table, her feet wobbled slightly, unaccustomed as she was to heels, but she recovered nicely. Gage didn't seem to notice at all, of course. His tongue was practically hanging out. So this was Cheyenne's plan to help Sabine. Turn her into a Pussycat Doll and let her loose on society. I loathed her.

  "Martinique goes naughty Catholic schoolgirl," Gage said in awe. "Hike." Sabine smirked--a look that was an eerie mirror of one of Cheyenne's favorite expressions--and opened her mouth to say something Cheyenne had undoubtedly coached her to say. And then, suddenly, it all went wrong. Her already unsteady foot hit a puddle of water and slipped out from under her. Her eyes went wide. There was an ever-so-brief moment when I thought she might have recovered, but it was only an illusion. Sabine flew off her feet and slammed into the ground, butt and back first. White underwear for all the world to see. Her tray went airborne and rained cereal and eggs all over her pristine white shirt. Orange juice splashed in her face. For a long moment, no one moved. And then, laughter.

  Gage doubled over. Cheyenne convulsed. The entire cafeteria filled with cackling cacophony. As I stood to help Sabine, she sat up and looked around, her face filling with anguish. She yanked her skirt down over her underwear, clinging to the hem. I had never seen anyone look so small. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cheyenne draw her hand across Portia's palm. It was an infinitesimal movement. If I'd blinked, I would have missed it. But I didn't. I saw it. And I knew. She had spilled that water in the center aisle. She had lent Sabine, who owned only flat sandals and flip-flops, her highest heels. She had orchestrated it all. And my rage was beyond compare.

  "You did this," I said to her, shaking. "Oh, get off your high horse already, Reed," Cheyenne said. "The thin air up there is affecting your brain." Sabine finally got up off the floor and ran, awkwardly in her heels, for the door. "You are so going to regret the fact that you ever met me," I told her. "You're forgetting something, Reed," she replied. "You started this. You drew the line that night at the vote. Whatever happens next, it's all your fault." I wanted to smack her in the face. Wanted to take her feet out from under her and show her how it felt. But this was not the place, and I had no time. I had to go after Sabine. "This is not over, Cheyenne," I promised her. "Not even close."

  PARALYZED

  Sabine spent the entire day in the infirmary. When I went to check on her, they wouldn't even let me see her. Said she wanted to be alone. After dinner, which she had skipped, she had come back to the room, grabbed her books, and left again, ignoring my attempts to talk to her. Just ducked her head and disappeared. Now it was 10:17 and still, she wasn't back. The library had closed seventeen minutes ago. Where the hell was she? Please, just don't let her drop out. Don't let her give Cheyenne the satisfaction. I took a deep breath and glanced at my cell phone. Josh was also MIA. I hated being one of those girls who sat around waiting for her phone to ring, but that's what I was doing. I needed to talk to him. Needed to vent about what had happened and hear his levelheaded take on where Sabine might be. Josh always called me at ten. Every night before bed. But tonight, nothing. Even after the most perfect

  morning of our relationship. Those kisses that still gave me warm shivers every time I thought about them. Nothing. The clock clicked over to 10:18. Something had to be wrong. I was just reaching for the phone when the door to my room burst open. "Reed!" "Oh my God! You scared the crap out of me!" I said, laughing. I turned to look at Constance and Sabine, and even though I was happy to see that Sabine was all right, my heart instantly dropped to the floor. They looked as if they'd both just witnessed a car wreck. "What's wrong?" They glanced at each other with trepidation. My heart thumped extra hard. "What is it?" I asked, my throat closing. "It's Josh," Constance was so apologetic, I wondered for a second if she'd done something to him somehow. "What about Josh?" I was on my feet.

  "You have to come," Sabine said, reaching for my arm. "Just come." Fear expanded inside me, filling up my every pore. I couldn't move. "Come where?" "Reed-" "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," I said firmly. "Tell me. Right now." Another grim look passed between them. "We saw him, Reed," Sabine said finally. "With Cheyenne."

  * * *

  I ran. I ran so fast, my lungs burned and my vision blurred. I ran so fast, I couldn't hear a thing save for the wind in my ears. I ran so fast, I tripped over one of the lights lining the pathway and was sent sprawling, tearing up my knee, my hand, my cheek, then got up and just kept running. He loves me. This isn't happening. He loves me. He loves me. Sabine was at my side when I arrived at the tall windows of the art cemetery. Constance was miles behind. "Reed, take a breath first," Sabine said. "Calm down." "No. No!" I shouted. I didn't care if anyone heard. Didn't care if I got expelled. I just wanted to see. I needed to see. I crept through the bushes to the windowpane. The blinds were cracked so that one could easily see through the slats. I closed my eyes. Said a prayer. Gripped the cold stone cornice with my fingertips. And looked. Something frigid and slimy slithered down my spine. The edges of my vision went hazy and gray. Inside the warm glow of the art cemetery, our sanctuary, the place Josh and I had shared many stolen moments, stolen kisses, stolen whispers, he was now lying back on the love seat as Cheyenne climbed on top of him.

  I felt the vomit coming just
in time to turn my head away from Sabine. I retched into the mulch at my feet. Strained tears streamed from the corners of my eyes, down my nose, and across my lips. But he loves me. He said that he loves m-- "Reed, I am so so sorry," Sabine said. "No," I heard myself say. "No." I drew the back of my hand across my mouth. Looked again. Josh reached up and cupped the side of Cheyenne's neck lovingly, his eyes worshipping. He let his hand slide down and nudge her blouse off her shoulder as she ever-so-slowly unbuttoned it. "No!"

  That was it. No more. I turned and shoved Sabine out of the way. Ripped open the door to Mitchell Hall. I was about to bang on the door to the art cemetery when I saw that it wasn't even all the way closed. With both hands, I shoved it open. It banged against the wall. A painting crashed to the floor. Cheyenne jumped up with a gasp and righted her shirt, covering her lacy, barely-there bra. Her skirt was on the floor. Her thong and perfectly tanned ass exposed. "Reed," Josh said. "Reed, what are you--" "Shut up," I said, tears streaming from my eyes. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to look at you!" I wiped my face quickly and held my breath, not wanting to give Cheyenne the satisfaction of seeing me this way. Josh pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared at me. His T-shirt--the very T-shirt he'd put on this morning right in front of me--was pushed all the way up to his pecs. His cords were unbuttoned, unzipped. I felt bile rise in my throat again and swallowed it back. Why had he not jumped up like Cheyenne? Why was he not begging for forgiveness right now? Was every single minute of that morning a lie? Did I really mean that little to him?

  "Calm down, Reed," Cheyenne said huffily, doing up her buttons. "I know this is hard for you, but at least try to retain some dignity." And that was when I finally did it. That was when the tenuous rope inside me finally snapped and I slapped Cheyenne as hard as I could, right across her pretty little face.

  WILLING PARTICIPANT

  'Tou pathetic, two-faced little whore!" I shouted, storming into Billings House with Sabine and Constance right on my heels. Cheyenne raced ahead of me and jogged up the stairs in her high heels. "Leave me alone, you psycho!" she shouted back at me.

  I took the stairs two at a time and followed her to her room. All the doors in the hallway were already open. Girls crowded into doors in their pajamas, watching as we tore by. "Reed! What's going on?" Rose asked. Like I could answer that right now. I had a blonde to disembowel. He'd said he loved me. He'd said he loved me. But she'd just taken it all away. Cheyenne tried to slam her door in my face, but I flattened my hand against it and pushed my way in. "Get out!" she shouted at me, backing toward the window. "Not until you admit what a fraud you are," I told her.

  "You're crazy, Reed. You've finally snapped," Cheyenne ranted, laughing nervously. "Oh, I'm crazy. I'm crazy?" I blurted. "You walk around here for days blabbering on about Billings and integrity and image and sisterhood and bonds that will last a lifetime and meanwhile you're spending every single free second you have seducing my boyfriend!" There was a general gasp and twitter behind me. I turned to look. Every single one of our housemates was either gathered near the door or out in the hall. "That's right, girls! Your fine, upstanding leader was just straddling my boyfriend in the art cemetery," I said, knowing they would all find out through the rumor mill anyway. "And yet she's the one walking around telling all of us who's good enough to be in Billings. Who has the right qualities. This backstabbing slut is passing judgment on everyone else!"

  "It wasn't just me, Reed. I didn't throw myself at him," Cheyenne said. "You saw him. He was a willing participant. He even invited me there." My vision blackened over. I honestly felt as if I might faint. When I whirled on her again, I had to grab her dresser to keep the dizziness at bay. It was one thing if Cheyenne had gone to him. If she'd known he'd be there like he was most nights and had walked in wearing her sexy little outfit all toned and blond and sex-potted out. I would still never forgive him, but it would somehow make it better to put the fault squarely on her. "I don't believe you. I've seen you. I've seen the way you're all over him all the time. This was all you."

  "Oh, yeah? Here!" Cheyenne reached into her Kate Spade and pulled out her cell, tossing it at me. "Check the first text message." She was bluffing. She had to be bluffing. I opened the text window and my vision blurred again. There was Josh's cell number across the top of the screen, clear as day. The message read: cant wait anymore. NEED u. now. 2nite. meet me. art cemetery, after cmte meeting. Every ounce of rage I had within me exploded at that moment. I reached back and hurled her phone at the wall, shattering it into a million pieces, one of which nicked Cheyenne right in the face. Cheyenne yelped and cupped her chin.

  Mrs. Lattimer chose that moment to show up. "Girls!" she shouted. "That is enough!" The shock, the horror, the disgust, was evident in her eyes as she took in the scene. Cheyenne, still haphazardly dressed. The pieces of the phone all over the floor. The mask of purple fury that I knew was covering my face. Her mouth formed a thin line of determination. I had never seen her look so grim. "To your room, Miss Brennan. Now."

  REINFORCEMENTS

  "Who the hell does she think she is? She thinks she can just do whatever she wants? Have whatever she wants?" I ranted, whisper- shouting myself hoarse as I paced in front of Sabine. She sat in the center of her bed, knees together, watching me as I walked back and forth. Only her eyes moved. It was as if she was afraid to shift position lest I pounce. Not that I could blame her. I was rabidly out of control. "Whoever she wants?"

  My voice cracked and I stopped pacing, covering my mouth with my hand as the images came rushing back to me. Josh's hand on her bare skin. That adoring look in his eyes that used to be reserved for me. He'd looked at Cheyenne the exact same way he'd looked at me this morning when I'd told him I loved him. The exact same way. My other hand went to my stomach. How could he? How could he do this to me? Was this the reason he'd wanted me to quit Billings so badly? To keep me and his other woman apart? Less chance of me finding out about her if we weren't living together, I suppose. And, oh my God. That night. That night Cheyenne had been out so late and I thought she'd been with Sabine . . . Had she been with Josh then, too? He'd been exhausted and cross and impatient the next day. Had this been going on this whole week? Had they been lying to me from day one? I couldn't believe Josh could be that manipulative. That cunning. No. Not Josh. Not possible.

  But then, I would have never thought this was possible. Never in a million years. "She is out of control," Sabine agreed. "You used to be friends, no? Even if you have had problems this year, it's no excuse." I took a deep breath to quell the nausea. Wiped a stray tear from under my eye.

  "'Out of control' is an understatement," I blurted. "You know she's been trying to force you, Constance, and Lorna out of here since that first day, right? She doesn't care if you quit Billings or get expelled. Whichever happens first is fine by her." Sabine's jaw dropped. "Expelled? She wants us expelled? My father would murder me!" "She doesn't care. As long as you're not living here," I muttered. "But . . . but I haven't done a thing to deserve it," Sabine said, standing. "I've done everything she asked. Running her errands . . . cleaning her room . . . stealing things and putting them back. I've done nothing wrong. She is the one who's manipulating everyone. It's not fair!" I leaned into my desk and stared out the window at the lights on the quad. "You're right. Cheyenne's the one who should get expelled, after everything she's done."

  My words hung in the air between us. Sabine was perfectly silent. Perfectly still. My heart started to pound anew. Cheyenne. Expelled. Cheyenne. Expelled. This was supposed to be a perfect year. New and free of drama. And it would have been, if not for her. She had ruined it all. Ruined Billings. Ruined Josh. Ruined everything. I looked at Sabine. Her eyes were wide. We were thinking the same thing. My skin tingled.

  "What if she did get expelled?" I said slowly. "It would be over then, no?" Sabine said tentatively. "God, can you even imagine how peaceful it would be here without her?" I said, looking around our room. "Without her torturing you guys? Without her
stomping and shouting and ordering people around?" "We could just be students again," Sabine said, sounding wistful. "We could be normal." She was right. If Cheyenne were gone, the newbies would be spared any more stress. They wouldn't have to go through all the crap I'd gone through last year. I was certain that without Cheyenne leading the pack, the hazing would end. Portia was too self-involved to be bothered, and Vienna and London would rather be primping and partying than plotting. Without Cheyenne, Billings would be free.

  I would just love to see her face if she got expelled. Would love to show her once and for all that she couldn't mess with me. That I wasn't going to just let her get away with stabbing me in the back. I couldn't believe I was seriously considering this. Couldn't believe I actually had it in me. But then I thought of Josh again. His face. His hands. His eyes. And I knew that I could do it. I was more than capable. "Do you think we could do it?" I said quietly. Sabine bit her lip. "I wouldn't even know where to begin." I sat down shakily on my desk chair. My computer screen was dark, but just looking at it gave me an idea. God, if only Noelle were here. She would know exactly how to exact revenge on Cheyenne, and exactly what strings to pull to get the job done. But I didn't even have a clue where she was, how to get in contact with her. She had long since changed all her numbers and e-mails, as if she wanted to cut off everyone completely. Cut me out of her life. But I had a feeling she would want to hear about this. Would want to help. She, after all, cared about Billings more than anyone. And one of her worst fears had been finding out what would happen if Cheyenne took over.