Private 12 - Vanished (12 page)

“I lost a bet with Gage,” I said, rolling my eyes and faking an embarrassed smile. The whole snake episode was just childish enough to be a brainstorm of his. “I said he couldn’t knot the stem of a cherry with his tongue. He did it five times in a row.”

“Omigod, Reed! You should know better than to ever make a bet with Gage!” Rose chided me.

“Especially when it involves his tongue,” Tiffany added, sticking hers out slightly.

“Lesson learned,” I replied. “I will never go there again.”

“What can I get for you ladies?” the waitress asked in the same hushed tone everyone seemed to use around here.

“Mango chicken salad, please,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

I took a deep breath, secure in the knowledge that neither Tiffany nor Rose would ever catch me in my latest lie. Neither of them was particularly friendly with Gage, and the whole bet story was forgettable enough that by tomorrow neither of them would care anymore. Everything was going to be fine. I was even starting to enjoy myself.

And then my cell phone vibrated.

“What was that?” Rose asked, looking around.

“My phone,” I whispered.

I fumbled it out of my pocket and held it under the table.

“Reed! You’re not supposed to have that in here,” Tiffany hissed, glancing over her shoulder at one of the waitresses.

“What’re they going to do, kick me out?” I asked. I pushed back from the table slightly to see the text on the screen. All at once, my lungs filled with relief. The text was from Josh. It read:

Hope we’re still on for tonight. I’ll pick you up at 8! XO

Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure that, on top of everything else, I could handle him dumping me on Valentine’s Day.

“It’s from Josh,” I explained.

Tiffany and Rose nodded knowingly.

I was just about to slide the phone back in my pocket when it vibrated again, startling the breath out of me.

This text was
not
from Josh.

ONLY ONE ASSIGNMENT LEFT. YOU FAIL, SHE DIES. FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS TONIGHT.

And just like that, the shoulder knots Kristianne had worked so hard to uncoil were back.

“Ow! Lorna! You stepped on my foot!” Amberly whined. “Ow! Owwww! Astrid! Stop! You’re smacking me in the back of the head with your brush.”

“Sorry, love,” Astrid said. She turned around too quickly and elbowed Amberly in the eye.

“Ow! Crap! Crappity crap crap!” Amberly blurted, doubling over.

“Oh my God, Amberly! Are you okay?” I asked, jumping up from my desk chair. Not that it was easy to do, what with the crowd of Billings Girls milling around in my tiny single room. I shoved by Portia, got a mouthful of hair spray as I ducked by Vienna, and cornered Amberly near the door, where she clutched her hand over her right eye, bent at the waist. Normally, Amberly wasn’t my favorite person, but she was one of us now—a true Billings Girl, and I had started to see her as a kind of annoying, precocious little sister.
Also, that jab had looked pretty bad.

“No, I’m not okay!” she groused, pushing her blond mane back from her pretty, elfin face. “I miss Billings! Do you remember how big the rooms were? We could have all fit in Noelle’s room
with
our dates. And taken group pictures! And had champagne!”

Around me, the other Billings girls sighed nostalgically.

“This is pathetic,” Amberly said, throwing up a hand. “And now I have a black eye.”

“Here. Let me see.” I tugged her hand away from her eye and she blinked a few times. “It’s not black. It’s just watery and … slightly pink,” I told her. “Hey. It matches your dress.”

“You think?” Amberly asked, looking down at her dark pink silk frock. There wasn’t much she loved more than matching her accessories to her clothes.

I laughed. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“Knock, knock!” Trey Prescott stuck his head into my room. Just opening the door slightly, he practically flattened me and Amberly against the wall. “Damn. It’s like a sardine can in here. Fine sardines, don’t get me wrong. But still.” He found Astrid in the center of the mayhem and smiled. “You ready, baby?”

“I’m
always
ready!” Astrid said, grabbing her sequined clutch. She had to raise her arms over her head and turn sideways to get through the bevy of girls and out the door. The multilayered taffeta and netting on the skirt of her black dress snagged on the beads lining Portia’s mini, but she twirled once and broke free. “Ta, ladies!” she sang.

“Hey, Amberly. Hunter’s out here too,” Trey said.

“Yeeee!” Amberly whirled around to double-check her eyes in the full-length mirror.

“Wait. You’re going to the dance with Hunter Braden?” I asked her, a sour taste rising up in the back of my throat. Hunter and I had gone on exactly one seriously awful date last fall, an experience I didn’t exactly relish for Amberly.

“Uh, yeah? The hottest guy in school asks you to the Valentine’s Day dance, you say yes,” Amberly replied.

I rolled my eyes and patted her on the back as I practically shoved her out the door. “Good luck with that one.”

She didn’t even seem to hear me as she joined him in the hallway and he helped her on with her coat. That was Hunter for you. A consummate gentleman. For five minutes. When that space of time had passed, all bets were off. I knew from experience.

“Well, at least there’s more room in here, now,” I said, returning to the makeup mirror on my desk.

“Hey, Reed, is this your brother?” Lorna asked, picking up a framed family portrait from atop my dresser. “He’s hot.”

“Yeah. And unfortunately, he knows it,” I replied, reaching for a red lip gloss that looked like it would match my dress.

“You don’t want that one. It’s got orange undertones,” Ivy said, grabbing it out of my hand. “It’ll clash.”

My stomach turned and I avoided her gaze. She had to be here because all the BLS members had decided to come over, but I still had a feeling she had something to do with Noelle’s disappearance.
Just being around her was making my skin prickle.

“Here. Try this.”

She handed me her own lip gloss with a smile.

“No, thanks,” I said, tossing it back to her. “I think I’ll just go neutral.”

Ivy eyed me for a second, as if she sensed something was up, but then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“Your dad is cute too. For an old guy,” Lorna said. She looked at me over the top of the photograph. “But you guys look nothing alike.”

“Everyone always says that,” I replied. “I look like my mom and Scott looks like my dad.”

“Which is probably a good thing,” Kiki joked, leaning over my shoulder to fluff her hair in my mirror. “Otherwise you’d have a five o’clock shadow and he’d have those delicate cheekbones of yours,” she said, giving my cheek a pinch.

“Hey, Ivy! You in here?” Gage shoved open the door, slamming it into Vienna’s foot. She fell against the side of my dresser, grabbed her injured toes, and let out a string of curses worthy of a backstage Kanye outburst.

“Dude. Watch where you’re standing,” Gage said.

“You suck, Gage Coolidge,” Vienna said, hopping over to my bed to check for bleeding. Her dark gray strapless dress barely restrained her breasts, and for a second there, I was sure one or both was going to pop out. Which, of course, Gage would have loved.

“Only on certain body parts,” he replied, giving her a lecherous
glance.

“Ew!” Portia, Rose, and Tiffany exclaimed as one.

“Ah, my date. I couldn’t be more proud,” Ivy said. She dropped her lip gloss back in her purse and joined Gage at the door. “See you guys there!”

Portia rolled her eyes as the door slammed behind them. “If those two were any more off-again-on-again they’d be a light switch.”

A few of the girls giggled, but I felt a knot growing in my chest. Were Ivy and Gage really back together, or was he just a beard for her real man—Tattoo Guy? Or maybe Tattoo Guy wasn’t a boyfriend at all. Maybe he was only in Ivy’s life to help her wreak havoc on mine and Noelle’s.

I turned back to my reflection and reached for my original lip gloss again, trying not to think about it. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Romantic. It was supposed to be about me and Josh. If only I could manage to stop obsessing about Noelle’s kidnapping and my ability to save her for more than five minutes.

There was another knock at the door. One by one, all the hottest guys of Easton showed up to squire my friends off to the dance. Weston Bright was Tiffany’s date, Jason Darlington came for Vienna, Dominic Infante picked up Portia, and Marc Alberro, much to my delight, arrived for Kiki. Finally, Carson Levere, who was a year younger than us, but smart and insanely cute, showed up clutching a dozen red roses to claim Lorna, and Rose and I were left alone.

As Lorna closed the door behind her, I felt a thump of foreboding. Maybe Josh wasn’t coming for me after all.

“Is Damon coming up here?” I asked.

“Nah. New Hathaway rule. Apparently since he’s an off-campus date, he’s not allowed inside the dorms, so I told him I’d just meet him at the hotel,” Rose said, perching on the edge of my bed. “But I’ll wait for Josh with you.”

Might be a long wait,
I thought, glancing at my phone. It was already 8:15. Not hugely late. Unless you lived a thirty-second walk away from your date, of course. But the last shuttle over to the Driscoll Hotel in Easton was supposed to leave at eight thirty. What if he didn’t get here in time? Or at all?

Then, just like that, there was a knock at the door. Both Rose and I stood, and I smoothed the skirt of my red satin dress.

“Come in!”

Josh opened the door with a smile. “Sorry I’m late. Would you believe some freshman outside asked me to tie his tie for him?”

Rose and I laughed and Josh produced a single red rose from behind his back. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I think I’ll leave you two alone,” Rose said, reaching for her coat, which was folded at the end of my bed. “See you there!”

I smiled and twiddled my fingers at her as she slipped out. Josh wrapped his arms around me and gave me a long kiss on the lips. “I hate that we’ve been fighting,” he said.

“Me too,” I replied, letting out a sigh of relief. “Let’s not do that anymore.”

“Deal,” Josh replied. “Tonight is not about suspects or intrigue or kidnappers. Tonight is about you.” He gave me a kiss on one shoulder. “And me.” He kissed the other shoulder. “And the dance.” Then he kissed me, once more, on the lips.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel like going anywhere. I just wanted to stay right there in my room all night, with him. But I knew we had to at least make an appearance at the dance. Otherwise everyone would freak out, wondering where we were. Besides, I wanted to congratulate Constance on what I was sure would be a job well done.

“Come on,” I said, taking Josh’s hand. “Let’s get this dance thing over with so we can come back here and make out.”

He laughed. “I like the way you think.”

We walked out of the room together. As I reached back to close the door, I caught a glimpse of my phone, sitting on my desk. My
heart skipped a tense beat. I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten my lifeline to Noelle.

“Hang on a sec,” I said.

Leaving Josh in the hall, I went back inside and grabbed the phone. As I picked it up, it let out a loud beep. My pulse skidded to a stop. I had a text. Quickly, I opened the message. It read, simply:

YOUR FINAL ASSIGNMENT: BREAK UP WITH JOSH HOLLIS. IN PUBLIC.

Constance had done an amazing job. As Josh and I danced, holding each other close at the center of the gleaming hardwood dance floor, I looked around the Driscoll Hotel ballroom, taking it all in. Solidifying in my mind the details of what was bound to be one of the worst nights of my life.

The ballroom had been turned into an otherworldly tunnel of love. Deep red and purple hearts covered every possible surface, in all imaginable textures. There were sequined hearts, fur hearts, lace hearts, silky hearts. Hearts made out of paper and netting and beads and dried flowers. The ceiling was home to thousands of dark red balloons and the DJ’s glass booth had been filled with millions of candy hearts. Waiters and waitresses circled the room with heart-shaped trays full of chocolate-covered strawberries, pink-frosted cupcakes, and Shirley Temple drinks. Everywhere I looked, couples danced close together, touching noses, touching lips, touching everywhere.