Poser (21 page)

“No, you didn’t give him the drug, but friends look out for each other. You weren’t ever Ivy’s friend, were you? The only thing you’ve ever cared about is your status, and you had a lot of it when you were friends with Ivy, because she came with Rimmel and Romeo.”

“You’re a son of a bitch.”

“No, I’m just an asshole. But you? You’re way worse than I’ll ever be.”

She dashed a hand up by her eye. Was she crying? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. “I didn’t tell her. Not yet. But I’m going to because she deserves the truth. I won’t lie for you, Missy. So you might want to start thinking about what you’re going to do when everyone knows what kind of person you really are.”

I turned away but then glanced back.

“At least I’m giving you a warning, to know what to expect. Ivy didn’t get that courtesy when you blasted her all over the Buzzfeed and branded her a slut.”

“I’m sorry!” she yelled as I was getting into the Toyota.

“It’s too little, too late.” I slammed the door, turned over the engine, and drove the short distance to park in front of the store.

When I got out of the car, I saw Ivy standing at the counter, gathering up her things. I looked back down the street.

Missy was gone.

Ivy

With Black Friday just around the corner, the boutique was gearing up for a big sale. Several of us girls were working today, helping prep. I was in the back, putting signs into display cases to be clipped onto the racks the morning of, when the phone rang. I knew the girl out front was busy. I could hear her talking to a customer. So I dropped the sign I was working with and rushed to answer the phone.

It was one of the girls that had been in here yesterday that I helped style an outfit. Word had gotten around that Rimmel’s fashion successes were because I was picking her clothes. Occasionally, someone would come in and ask me to pick stuff out for them too. It was fun, so I did it.

Anyway, I put together a totally adorable sequined skirt outfit with black tights and a silk top because she wanted something to wear to some fancy dinner her parents were having over the holiday. She loved it but didn’t have enough money.

So I promised I’d hold it for one day so she could get what she needed and come back.

“Is Ivy there?” she asked after my usual greeting.

“It’s me!”

“This is Sarah. I was in yesterday,” she said.

“Hey, girl, you coming back in for the outfit? It’s waiting right here.” I glanced over my shoulder at it hanging behind the counter.

“I can’t,” she practically wailed. “My ride totally bailed on me, and it’s way, way too cold for me to walk over. Can you hold it ‘til tomorrow?”

I made a noise. “I’m sorry. Per our policy, we can only hold things for twenty-four hours.”

She acted like her life was over. I had to suppress a laugh.

“Okay,” I said after I composed myself. “How about I bring it by the dorm? Like a delivery service. You have the cash for the outfit?” I read her the total just to be sure.

“Yes! I have it right here.”

“Okay, what dorm?”

“Cypress Hall. Second floor, room 202.”

Rimmel and I used to live on the second floor, and it made me smile. “I know the place. I’ll be there in a bit!”

After I hung up, I told the other two girls where I was going and offered to make a coffee run while I was out.

It was cold today, in the thirties. I wrapped up in my plaid pea coat and ran out to my car, grateful I was wearing boots today. It only took a few minutes to drive to Cypress Hall, and the second I pulled in, I remembered all the fun we used to have here.

Missy had been part of almost all of it.

Pushing away the thought, I grabbed the garment bag with the boutique logo on it and ran to the door. One of the residents was coming out, and she let me in so I didn’t have to stand there and wait for Sarah to buzz me in.

I saw a few girls I knew, so I stopped to say hi (not stopping would be rude) and then I passed by a few who only wanted to look at me and whisper. You’d think people would be over it all by now.

Geez.

Didn’t Alpha U have a new campus slut yet?

Ugh.

Being slut-shamed had been almost worse than sleeping with Zach. Hell, at least I couldn’t remember some of that.

As I walked by all the little Miss Gossip Pants of the floor, I gave them a bright smile and wave. They only stared in return.

I jogged up the stairs like I had thousands of times before and pushed through the door onto the second floor. The second I was inside the hallway, I stopped.

Missy was standing there. Her room was one of the closest to the stairwell. Well, I assumed it was her room because she was standing in the half-open door, staring down at something.

Her hair was in a super-short (and, I grudgingly admit, cute) ponytail, and she was wearing yoga pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

I hesitated because she had yet to see me, and I really didn’t want her to. I didn’t feel like dealing with Missy today. Actually, not any day. Especially not here where she pretended to be my friend.

I watched as she bent down to pick up what she was staring at. It was a single red rose. She put it up to her nose and inhaled, a small smile playing on her lips. Then she pulled it back and looked at the plain tag hanging from its stem.

Whatever she read there made her smile slightly. Then she smelled it again.

God, she had a boyfriend? I freaking felt bad for him. Someone should warn him. Poor guy was gonna end up the subject of the Buzzfeed.

But wait? Missy had a boyfriend? It didn’t seem right. That day on campus when we traded hostile sentences, she still seemed jealous about Braeden and me. A girl who was happy and in love wouldn’t be jealous of someone else’s relationship.

Would they?

Did she have a secret admirer?

I must have stood there staring too long because she turned in my direction and we locked eyes. Surprise danced across her face, and she lowered the rose a little so it was against her chest.

I cleared my throat and started moving. How unlucky for me the room I was delivering to was just two doors down from hers.

This was gonna be the last time I offered to do a good deed and deliver an outfit.

I walked past without a word, and she watched me unabashedly. I knocked on the door and in two seconds, it was flung open and Sarah was standing there with a huge grin on her face.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed and flung her arms around me for a big hug.

I laughed. “You’re welcome.”

She bounced back and took the garment bag to her bed. “Let me grab the cash,” she sang out.

Aware of Missy still staring, I stepped a little farther inside the room.

Sarah handed me the exact amount she owed, and I handed her a receipt. She promised to come back after break to get some more outfits, and she promised this time she’d have more money.

After we chatted for a few minutes about which shoes of hers would work best with the skirt, I waved bye and backtracked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

There were a few more girls in the hallway now. I felt them watching me, and it made me so incredibly glad I didn’t live here anymore.

Missy was still standing in her doorway, like she was waiting for me.

I flicked her a glance and then started walking.

“Hey,” she said like I was her friend and she was glad to see me.

“Hey,” I echoed in a way less enthusiastic tone.

“You have a minute to talk?”

I stopped in my tracks, aware some people were watching us. I realized then people probably wondered why we didn’t hang out anymore. I wondered how she explained that around here. I wondered if the #BuzzBoss ever got any questions about that, since he was so “on point” and “in the know” with the gossip.

“Can’t,” I said brusquely. “I’m on the clock.”

“You work there?”

“Yep,” I replied.
Like she didn’t know.
I pushed through the door and into the stairwell. For some reason, I felt out of breath, and I leaned against the wall and sucked in some air.

The stairwell was always colder than the floors in this place. Probably because there were very few heat vents in here and this old building had poor circulation. The lighting in here was kind of crap too, something everyone always complained about, but no one ever fixed.

But the cool felt good against my heated cheeks. It bothered me that it bothered me to talk to Missy. Maybe I should just confront her. Tell her what a bitch I thought she was and how awful her betrayal felt. Maybe avoiding this situation was only making it harder to get over.

I had told Braeden to talk to his father. Not because he’d asked, but because it would be good for B.

Wasn’t that sort of the same concept here? Didn’t my advice apply in my own situation?

Sometimes it just amazed me how linear life could sometimes be. Everyone had their battles. Oftentimes, they weren’t as different as everyone else’s. Just like a Christmas present. Most people got them, but they rarely looked the same.

‘Course, everyone liked presents.

No one liked a terrible person.

I snorted and it reminded me again of Rimmel. I laughed and the sound floated up into the stairwell, echoing a little.

You know what?
Screw this. Screw her.

“Just confront her,” I said out loud, an audible push for me to turn around.

I stopped midway down the stairs and turned back around. There were two flights of steps between each floor, and I was at the top of the bottom one. With purpose, I strode back up, stomping a little because it made me feel like a badass.

(You know it does.)

I was almost to the door, reaching out for the handle, when I heard a sound.

Faint.

Elusive.

Creepy.

I paused but didn’t turn around. I listened, thinking it had only been my imagination. Above me, there was a faint scuffle. Like someone was up on the next landing.

It was probably someone coming down the stairs, probably a guy who wasn’t supposed to be in here and he was creeping around so he didn’t get caught.

I rolled my eyes at the thought and started forward again.

“Ivy…”

What. The. Hell?

Did someone just whisper my name?

Was I hearing things?

I spun around so fast my hair whipped around before me and hit me in the face. It stuck to my lip-gloss, and I spit a little and used my hand to pull it all out of my face and clear my vision.

He was standing on the stairwell landing.

His body was only a barely there shadow, but his face, much paler than the rest of him, was unmistakable. I gasped, the sound bouncing off the walls and pressing into me.

It was a face I knew well. One I thought I’d never have to see again.

“Zach,” I croaked, my hand going up to my neck.

He smiled.

That’s all he did. He stood there in the shadows, looking like a ghost, and smiled. He had this look in his eyes, the kind murderers in movies always wore.

I blinked, thinking it was just my imagination. That my mind was playing some kind of cruel joke on me.

But he was still there.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. His voice was so low I had to strain to hear.

My skin crawled and a cold sweat broke out over my forehead. Completely horrified, I rushed through the door and burst into the second-floor hallway.

Missy was standing there talking to a few other girls.

I stumbled and leaned against the wall, gasping for breath and trying to clear the sound of his raspy voice from my head.

I can still hear him breathing.

It was a god-awful sound.
Why am I hearing it?
He hadn’t been breathing like that just now.

I am losing it.

No. I’ve officially lost it.

“Ivy?” Missy said from just beside me, her voice low and totally concerned. “Are you okay?”

“He’s in there.” I gasped.

“Who?” Her eyes went to the door.

“
Him
.”

She seemed freaked out, and before I realized who exactly I was talking to and that we weren’t BFFs anymore, she pushed through the door and stepped into the stairwell.

I rushed after her, the word
no
forming on my lips, but not making it out.

I skidded to a stop behind her.

Her eyes met mine over her shoulder. “There was someone here?”

Confused, I looked up to where Zach had been standing.

The shadows were just that, dark, empty space with no lurking crazy guy.

Utter relief surged through me but so did embarrassment. I straightened and made sure to look her in the eye. “Just some booty call racing down the steps, trying not to get caught.”

Her eyes narrowed like she didn’t believe me. “A booty call scared you?”

“His junk was flapping in the wind. He needed some Nair. And some zit cream.” I made a face. It wasn’t even hard. That was a nasty thought.