The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (120 page)

BOOK: The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance
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“Constance, I’m sorry,” I said.

“For what?” she asked loudly.

“I’ve been—” I wanted to say
neglecting you
, but it sounded too egotistical. “Really busy lately,” I finished. “But don’t worry, I’m going to remedy that.”

Constance grinned so brightly I was temporarily blinded. “Well, at least we’ll all get to hang out together at the Legacy!”

That was my bright-side girl.

“Yeah. We will,” I said proudly.

“And Whit! And Josh! Omigod. This is going to be sick!”

And Whit. And Josh. And Dash. Oh, my.

I was about to take another sip of my coffee, but pushed it away instead. The boy I’d used, the boy I was dating, and the boy I was flirting with behind everyone’s back. Suddenly, all of us hanging out together started to feel a tad complicated. In fact, “sick” didn’t even begin to cover it.

CREDIT

Sunday dawned crisp, clear, and cool—a perfect day for hanging out on the quad, admiring the changing leaves, and showing off new fall wardrobes. Led by our intrepid social chairs, the Billings Girls found a spot in the dead center of the action and staked our claim with cashmere Burberry throws. We settled in with all the books we weren’t going to study and got right down to the real business of the hour: people-watching and gossiping.

“Can you believe Gage and Ivy are hooking up again?” Vienna said, unscrewing the top of a big silver thermos. She’d had several filled for us at Coffee Carma. “Isn’t that sort of been-there-donethat? Get yourself some fresh meat already.”

“Gage and Ivy?” Sabine gasped.

“How can you miss it?” Portia sneered, glancing across the quad. “They are all about the PDA.”

We all turned to look. Sure enough, Gage was practically crawling
on top of Ivy on the steps of Hell Hall. Tongues flashed. Her fingers gripped his sweater. His hands trailed under her skirt. I had to give them points for sheer idiocy. Didn’t they know that any of dozens of teachers or administrators could trip over them at any moment?

“That’s disgusting,” Tiffany said, focusing her zoom lens on them nonetheless.

“Why her?” Sabine asked, clearly upset.

“Because she’s got no standards,” Noelle sniffed as she accepted a cup of coffee from Vienna.

“Don’t let them bother you, Sabine,” I said under my breath, squeezing her hand. Ever since my conversation with Constance the night before, I had been the perfectly attentive best friend. “I told you, you can do so much better.”

Sabine smiled slightly, and turned her body so she’d have no chance of glimpsing the low-grade porn without sprouting a third eye. Good girl.

“Speaking of standards,” Portia said, lifting her heavy hair over her shoulder. She was wearing an emerald green turtleneck sweater that, in the sunlight, brought out her eyes and made her dark hair pop. For the first time I could see why green was her signature color. “Is it true we’re all going to the Legacy?”

“It’s true,” Noelle said, sipping her coffee.

“That’s so incredible, you guys,” Rose said, beaming. She smoothed her brown suede skirt under her legs as she adjusted her position on the blanket. “I’ve always hated the fact that we couldn’t all go together.”

“Well, now we can. If, of course, we can find out where it’s being
held,” I reminded them. “Which reminds me, I have to make a call. Be right back.”

I pushed myself up and walked a few paces over to a stone bench nearby. I had saved all of Jenna Korman’s numbers in my iPhone, just in case, and wanted to put the last cog of our plan in motion sooner rather than later. I hit her cell phone number and sat on the cold bench while it rang.

“Reed Brennan! To what do I owe the pleasure?” her gravelly voice asked.

“Hi, Ms. . . . Jenna,” I said. “Sorry to interrupt your Sunday.”

“Not at all. Just golfing with my husband,” she said brightly, then lowered her voice. “Boring as sin. Man couldn’t beat me if Tiger was his caddy. So what can I do for you? You got the invitation, I understand?”

“Yes, thank you so much,” I replied. “And we have almost everything we need.”

A group of girls walking past my friends paused when they saw how close they had come to brushing by Noelle, then gave her a wider berth. I rolled my eyes. What did they think she was going to do? Bite their ankles?

“Good. Good to hear,” she replied. “Walter! Bend your knees! You never bend your knees properly,” she shouted off the phone. “Sorry about that,” she told me. “You were saying?”

I stifled a laugh as the wind tossed my hair back from my face. “Well, all we need now is to get a copy of the last e-mail—the one that will reveal the time and place of the party. None of us are on the list, obviously.”

“Not a problem. I’ll have my daughter forward it right to you when she gets it,” she replied.

I bit my lip. “Well, that’s the thing. Apparently the Legacy planner is threatening to keep out anyone who helps Easton get in.”

Jenna laughed wryly. “Well, good. The girl should learn to handle disappointment. She should have gone to Easton to begin with, instead of siding with her father. Lesson learned, I’d say.”

My jaw dropped and I saw Noelle eyeing me quizzically. I couldn’t believe that Billings was more important to this woman than her own flesh and blood. Maybe I still had something to learn about the significance of our house.

“Okay. Well, thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

“Not a problem. I hope we get to meet in person someday,” Jenna replied. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go save my husband from another double bogey. Good-bye, Reed.”

“’Bye.”

Behind me, there was a commotion as Gage and Ivy got dragged off the steps by Mr. White, our resident disciplinarian. Gage was protesting loudly, but Ivy simply went along with a content-looking smirk on her face. Girl was such a freak.

“Well? What did she say?” Noelle asked as I strolled back to my friends.

Here was where Sabine would be proven wrong. I was the one who was really getting us into the Legacy. No one else could take credit for these phone calls with Jenna Korman. And everyone was here for me to deliver the good news. Credit, mine.

I was about to share when I saw Josh walking toward us across the quad, all fresh-faced and handsome in a white fisherman’s sweater and cords, his overnight bag still slung over his shoulder. He looked at me almost uncertainly, and my heart gave a pang. It was all I needed to make a snap decision. The credit could wait.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said to Noelle.

“Reed. Come on! What did she say?” Noelle asked as everyone else grumbled.

But I didn’t turn back. Josh waited for me as I skirted our picnic area and crossed the quad. Seconds later I was in his arms. As he held me, he let out a sigh that sounded a lot like relief. He smelled like salty air and firewood smoke.

“I’m sorry,” I said over his shoulder.

“I missed you,” he replied.

And then we went off to find someplace a little more private than the steps of Hell Hall.

GRATEFUL

The tokens arrived on Wednesday afternoon. I couldn’t wait to hand them out, but considering Cromwell’s anti-Legacy decree, we knew that the last thing we should do was open up a table in the cafeteria with a sign that read
GET YOUR LEGACY TOKENS HERE
! Instead we opted for a more secret locale. Just before the post office closed that evening, we delivered a stack of envelopes to the window, one for each Easton legacy, plus all the Billings Girls. We realized we could have just given them their rings in the house, but why should our friends miss out on the intrigue?

Then, Thursday evening after dinner, Noelle and I stole off to Gwendolyn Hall, hunkered down on the bench under the old, crumbling entryway, and waited. Gwendolyn was the original Easton class building—the oldest structure on campus along with the chapel—but it had been boarded up for years. All the windows and doors were covered with wooden planks and hand-painted
KEEP OUT
signs. Last spring I had asked Natasha why the administration hadn’t torn it down, considering it was kind of an eyesore now, and
she’d laughed at my naïveté. Apparently you didn’t mess with tradition at Easton, even if it was covered in weeds and probably infested with critters.

“Check it out,” Noelle said, pressing her finger into the wooden surface of the bench on which we sat.

I leaned over her knees to see which of the hundreds of etchings she was pointing at. There, carved into the wood grain, was a heart containing the initials DM + NL. It looked newer than most of the etchings, but definitely older than the freshest of the bunch. I forced myself to smile.

“When did you—”

“Dash did it. Freshman year,” she said with a self-satisfied smile. “So not like him. Mr. Play by the Rules.”

I wondered if it would surprise her to know that Mr. Play by the Rules had now almost kissed me twice, when clearly she believed that his heart belonged only to her. Of course, the moment I thought it, I felt guilty. Noelle was my friend. How could I have such traitorous thoughts while sitting right next to her?

“Ever come here with Josh?” Noelle asked.

“No,” I said, the memories of Thomas that I always tried to keep at bay suddenly rushing in. “Not with Josh.”

I looked away.

“Oh,” Noelle said.

An uncomfortable silence fell over us. Thank God she spotted the first of our customers a moment later. Everyone had been given a specific time to show up, spaced at three-minute intervals. We had given Gage the earliest time, so we could get him in, out, and over with.

“Well,” Gage said, grinning lasciviously as he climbed the steps. “This little scenario breeds all kinds of possibilities. Do you want to go one at a time or both at once? Because I’m down with either.” He rubbed his hands together and practically licked his chops.

“Ew. Just stop,” I said. I whipped out one of the small black boxes and handed it to him. Gage, who was apparently still entertaining the idea that his invitation to meet us here was some kind of sexual overture, looked confused. Until he cracked open the box.

“No way.” He popped the money clip out, tossed it, and caught it. “Is this what I think it is?”

“You’re going to the Legacy. Congratulations,” I said, then looked at Noelle. “Although I’m now wondering why we included him.”

Gage didn’t seem to have heard me. He dropped to his knees and kowtowed at my feet. “I take back everything I ever said about you, Reed Brennan. Clearly you learned a few tricks back in the barn.”

“Thanks. I think,” I said.

Lance Reagan was the next to show. He glanced at me and Noelle and Gage, who was still on his knees, and looked a tad disconcerted. Maybe we shouldn’t have chosen the most notorious make-out spot on campus for our transactions. But then, it was the number-one spot for a reason—it was private, hidden, and off the beaten trail.

“Dude! We’re going to the Legacy!” Gage announced, jumping up and slinging his arm over Lance’s wide shoulders.

“Seriously?” Lance asked, his eyes suddenly hungry behind his glasses.

“You can go now,” Noelle said to Gage.

“What? Why? I want to play,” Gage said, pouting.

“Because the whole point of this was to not draw a crowd and arouse suspicion,” I said.

“Well, if you didn’t want to
arouse
anything . . . ,” Gage began, looking down at our legs, bare thanks to our skirts. I had dressed up for the occasion.

“Just go!” Noelle and I said at once.

Gage finally took the hint. Over the next hour Noelle and I handed out rings and money clips, enjoying the gushing gratefulness of our peers. Then, finally, Josh climbed the stairs. He was wearing a broken-in Harvard T-shirt under his houndstooth jacket and jeans with tiny holes in the knees. So cute my heart skipped a beat. I stood up and smiled as I handed him his money clip.

“Thanks,” Josh said, not even opening the box.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” I asked, disappointed.

“Oh, I know what it is. Gage is out there telling everyone.”

Noelle and I rolled our eyes. “Unbelievable.”

Noelle got up and trudged down the stairs to check on the situation. I was glad she had left us momentarily alone.

“Aren’t you excited?” I asked, reaching for Josh’s hand. “We’re all going! Even me.”

Josh smiled slightly. “Well, that part’s good.”

My heart thumped extra hard. Where were the thanks? Where was the pride over a job well done?

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, stashing the box in his pocket. “It’s just . . . more drunken depravity? I think I’m kind of over it.”

I felt like he’d just punched me in the gut. Here I was, running all over the place trying to get us into the Legacy—trying to save face for Easton and keep him and everyone else from missing out on the biggest party of the year—and he wasn’t even going to thank me. Worse, he didn’t even want to go. If Dash had been standing here, he would have been psyched. He would have thanked me for real. I was sure he would have.

God, what was wrong with me? I had to stop doing that. I had to stop comparing them.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” Josh said, holding my hand. “Of course we’re going and of course it’s going to be fun. And you should see how psyched everyone is out there. You’ve made a lot of people really happy, Reed.”

Okay. That was slightly better. But I still wished that had been his first response.

“Idiots were all standing out there in a clump,” Noelle said, reappearing. “Do they not get the point of the secret meetings? I swear, it’s amazing any of them even got into this school.”

She stormed by us and sat down again to consult our list of who was yet to come. Josh stepped closer to me.

“And I like that you’re using your power for good instead of evil,” he whispered in my ear. As he pulled back, his eyes darted to Noelle.

Message? Noelle was evil. So much for getting over it.

“Thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes. And I forced a laugh. Because I
knew he wanted me to take it as a joke, and I didn’t feel like prolonging this.

“I’ll see you guys,” Josh said, acknowledging Noelle for the first time.

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