Vengeance (20 page)

Ivy lifted her shoulders. “Things change.”

“Man, do they ever,” Kiran said, slinging her arm over my shoulder as Mr. Hathaway and Sawyer walked by, huddled together, and approached Detective Hauer. “I used to think Graham was hot.”

I laughed, turned toward Kiran, and hugged her, then felt Noelle’s arms go around my back. Soon Taylor and even Ivy had joined in on the group hug—one big mess of tangled hair, designer perfume, and chilled skin. I ducked my head inside the cocoon my friends had formed for me and smiled.

Maybe I wasn’t so unlucky after all.

“This is definitely one of the best ideas you’ve ever had,” I told Josh a week later, cuddling back into his arms under the shade of our favorite oak tree at the center of the Easton Academy campus. I tore off a bit of the croissant I was holding and reached it up over my shoulder. He opened his mouth and snatched it from my fingers with his teeth.

“Agreed.”

Laid out in front of us was an old-fashioned picnic basket, overflowing with more croissants, fruit salad, one thermos of orange juice, and another of coffee. It was the morning of graduation, and all across the sunlit campus seniors strolled with their parents in suits and dresses, taking pictures in front of dorms and pointing out places of interest. There was this odd sense of finality in the air, mixed with the overwhelming, airy feeling of new beginnings. Flowers bloomed along the stone walks and bees buzzed from bud to bud. Birds chirped merrily overhead as a warm breeze tickled my bare arms. As much as I
knew I would miss having Josh here with me next year, I couldn’t help feeling happy, hopeful. I didn’t want that feeling to ever end.

“I have a surprise for you,” Josh said, shifting his weight behind me. I turned my head to look up at him.

“Yeah?”

He extricated a piece of folded paper from his back pocket and handed it to me. I traded my croissant for the heavy paper stock, my pulse giving a little thrill. I had a feeling I knew what this was, and as soon as I unfolded the page, my hopes were confirmed.

Dear Mr. Hollis,

Welcome to Cornell University! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted off the wait list and we have reserved a space for you in this fall’s freshman class.

“You did it!” I cried, throwing my arms up. My cast caught his chin with a crack.

“Ow!”

“Oh God. Sorry!” I circled my arms around him anyway and kissed the spot I’d bruised. “I’m so happy for you!”

“I know, but you don’t have to beat me up over it,” Josh joked, hugging me back. He buried his face in my shoulder and kissed the tip of my collarbone. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Actually, you probably would have gotten in the first time if not for me,” I said pragmatically.

Josh pondered this, then clutched the back of my hair with one hand. “Possibly. But life would have been a lot less interesting.”

We both smiled and he leaned in to kiss me. I touched my fingertips to his face as we moved in to each other, savoring each and every last touch and sigh and breath. Everything felt crisper this morning. More real. More significant. I suppose that’s how everything feels at ends and beginnings.

Then someone cleared his throat nearby. Seriously nearby. Josh and I both looked up. Headmaster Hathaway glowered down at us. His skin looked almost gray, and his normally coiffed hair had a scraggly look about it. It was the first time I’d laid eyes on the man in a week, and Sawyer had been absent from campus all that time as well.

“Pardon me for interrupting.”

“Headmaster Hathaway,” I said, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say, couldn’t imagine what he wanted.

“I came over here to say I’m sorry. For what happened with Graham.” He lifted his eyes and looked out across campus toward the Billings construction site. “I had no idea he was so troubled.”

“What’s going to happen to him?” I asked.

“We’re not sure yet,” he replied. “Possibly jail time, definitely treatment . . . it’s too soon to say.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Josh offered. “For everything that’s happened to your—”

The depth of pain that flashed through the headmaster’s eyes as he looked at Josh stopped my breath. I put my hand on Josh’s arm and he stopped talking. Clearly, talking to Josh reminded the
headmaster of Jen, and that was the last thing he needed to be dwelling on right now.

“We just both really hope that things get better for you,” I said, hoping it didn’t sound trite. “You and Sawyer . . .
and
Graham.”

“Thank you. Considering the circumstances, that’s very kind of you,” the headmaster said. “Obviously we won’t be back here next year.” He cleared his throat and turned to face me fully. “I wish you luck, Miss Brennan. With all your . . . endeavors.”

In the background we all heard a crash, and the headmaster flinched. I held my breath, but no shouts or screams came. Apparently it was a run-of-the-mill construction noise, nothing more.

“Thank you,” I told the headmaster.

“Well, then.” He tried for a smile, but it came out as a grim frown. “Have a good day.”

Then he turned on his heel and speed-walked away. I wondered if he was going to attend the graduation ceremony that afternoon. From the looks of it, probably not. He was practically leaving a fire track behind him as he hoofed it for Hull Hall. I was sure he couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

“Is it just me, or have we gone through a lot of headmasters?” I said, trying for levity as I leaned back into Josh’s waiting arms again.

“Three in two years? Yeah, that’s not normal,” Josh agreed, handing my croissant back to me.

“I wonder who it’ll be next year,” I said, taking a small bite. “If tradition holds, it’ll be someone who’s offended by my very existence and will do everything in their power to make my life miserable.”

“Nah,” Josh said with a smirk. “Fourth time’s the charm.”

I laughed and followed the headmaster with my eyes until he had disappeared inside Hull Hall. If he wasn’t coming back next year, that meant Sawyer wouldn’t be here either. I felt a pang of loss deep inside my chest and let out a sigh. So many people had come and gone out of my life lately. . . . It was getting old. But it also reminded me of who was truly important.

I tilted my head up and looked Josh in the eye.

“What?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing. I just love you,” I said.

Josh smiled and softly kissed my lips. “I love you, too.”

“Tiffany Roxanna Goulbourne!”

I cheered as Tiffany strolled across the stage in her dark blue graduation gown. While most students had a few cameras trained on them as they accepted their diplomas, Tiffany lifted her camera out from the inside of her bell sleeve, held it above her head, and snapped off a few shots of her own as Dean Marshall attempted to hand her the scroll. Everyone cheered as Tiffany shook the dean’s hand and accepted her diploma, moving her gold tassel from one side of her cap to the other as she descended the stairs on the far side of the stage.

“I can’t believe they’re actually graduating,” Constance said, lifting a tissue to her nose in the chair next to mine.

“I can’t believe they got such a bloody gorgeous day,” Astrid added, squinting up at the sun from behind her thick sunglasses. “You know that when we graduate it’ll be the rainstorm to end all rainstorms.”

“No negativity today,” I admonished. “It’s going to be beautiful. Even better than this.”

My friends all eyed me, surprised, but I ignored them.

“Shh! Josh is next!”

“Joshua Matthew Hollis!”

Josh strolled up to stage, looking confident and handsome and happy. His parents and brothers and sisters were a cheering section unto themselves on the other side of the aisle, giving him a standing ovation. I stood up too, clapping as best I could with my cast, and smiled at Josh’s brother Lynn across the way. Josh shook the dean’s hand, took his diploma, and held it in his fist above his head. I laughed, my chest welling up with pride and happiness and sadness all at once. He found my eyes as he walked off stage and I blew him a kiss before sitting down again.

“I just can’t believe I’m not going to be a freshman anymore,” Amberly said, touching up her berry-colored lip gloss. “Is it just me, or has this has been the longest year ever?”

“It’s not you,” I agreed.

“It’s going to be so weird around here without them, isn’t it?” Lorna said, leaning forward at the far end of the aisle. “Portia, the Twin Cities, and everyone?”

“Weird, or just really, really awesome,” Kiki put in, snapping her gum.

I looked up and down the line at the five of them—Constance with her red hair back in a bun, her white-and-pink striped shirt buttoned and pressed; Astrid in her black boatneck T-shirt with about a
hundred silver chains around her neck and her boots spattered with paint; Kiki, growing out her short blond hair so that it now stuck out from behind her ears as if she’d had an electric shock, wearing a floral baby-doll dress no one else on campus could pull off; Lorna in a dark pink shift dress, beaded necklace, and straightened black hair. I had even cleared a special place in my heart for matchy-matchy Amberly in her blue-and-white striped boatneck tee, wide-legged white pants, and blue slingbacks. Next year, we were the returning Billings Girls. Next year, we would set the tone.

“I’m thinking awesome,” I said.

Then a movement on the other side of campus caught my eye. The doors of Pemberly were thrown open and two uniformed police officers dragged Missy Thurber out, her hands cuffed behind her back. Most of the crowd didn’t notice, as their backs were to the dorms, but my friends and I saw.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

“I heard she knew all about Cheyenne and Graham’s plans,” Constance whispered, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear.

“I’ll bet they’re arresting her as an accessory,” Kiki put in.

The police quickly and discreetly hauled Missy around a corner and out of sight, before all the influential alumni and proud parents could catch a glimpse. I thought it would feel satisfying, having my oldest and most annoying nemesis finally expunged from campus, but I just felt hollow. Was that it? Were my enemies finally and truly all gone?

“Are you all right, Reed?” Amberly asked as we all faced forward again.

I nodded, blinking in the sunlight. “I’ll be fine.”

“Noelle Theresa Lange!”

All six of us jumped to our feet to cheer for Noelle, and I did my best to applaud the negative feelings away. On the other side of the aisle, Dash and his family stood up as well, along with Noelle’s mother and grandmother. A lump of sorrow gathered in my throat, realizing it must have been killing Noelle that her father wasn’t here to see this. Tears gathered in my eyes as I applauded, but Noelle showed no such emotion. She walked right up to the dean, her chin up, her dark hair loose down her back, her gold and white valedictorian tassels hanging over her shoulders. When the Easton photographer was ready, she clasped the dean’s hand, took her diploma, and smiled her perfect, winning smile into the lens. Then she turned toward her family and Dash, then toward me. The look in her eye was half amusement, half pride. And then she walked off stage.

Two seconds later, my phone beeped. For a split second I thought it might be another menacing message, another warning, another confusion, but when I whipped out my phone, the text was from Noelle.

IT’S ALL YOU, GLASS-LICKER. DON’T SCREW IT UP.

I covered my mouth with my hand. Classic Noelle.

Just like that, it was over. The end of Noelle Lange’s era at Easton. As I sat down again, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

So I did a little bit of both.

“I can’t believe Gage’s parents own this place!” I shouted to Ivy, trying to make myself heard over the music. Kiran, Taylor, and Natasha Crenshaw all danced in our small circle at the center of the dance floor as well, and every time one of us spoke, we all smiled and nodded, but I hadn’t heard a word anyone said all night and I was sure they hadn’t either.

Ivy leaned in toward me, resting her hands on my shoulders as we danced and leaning toward my ear. “I know! They have seaside resorts all over the country!”

“And one day it’ll all be mine!” Gage announced, appearing at our sides with two bottles of champagne clutched in each hand, his fingers woven around their necks. He spread his arms wide, his linen jacket opening to reveal the tight white T-shirt underneath.

Ivy rolled her eyes as he slung one arm around her shoulder under the huge, crystal chandelier. “I got two for you and two for me.
Whaddaya say we go up to my personal suite and have a chug contest?”

Shoving him away with both hands, Ivy shook her head. “We practically just got here!”

He winked at her. “I’ll be back in an hour then.”

With that he plunged into the crowd, kissing a few cheeks and hugging it out with some guys as he went, clearly in his element. Suddenly a pair of slim arms encircled my neck from behind.

“Hey, Tiff,” I said as she rested her chin on my shoulder. “What’s up?”

“We’re going outside for a breather,” she said, tilting her head toward a crowd of Billings Girls behind her. “Wanna join?”

I glanced at Ivy and she nodded, out of breath. “We’re in.”

Together we wove our way through the dancing throng on the marble floor, eventually coming to the huge French doors, which opened up onto a wide, wooden plank deck overlooking the ocean. We all tottered in our heels over to the stone railing, laughing and trying to catch our breath. Down below, more Easton students milled on the beach, hanging out on the cushy lounge chairs set up to face the water. The ocean crashed, and out near the horizon lights twinkled on the decks of distant boats.

“Champagne, ladies?” A handsome waiter in a light blue shirt and white pants paused nearby with a tray full of glasses.

“You know us
so
well,” Vienna trilled, selecting one for her and one for London.

Rose and Portia giggled as we all took our own glasses. I looked around at the circle of my friends—Kiran, Taylor, Natasha, Ivy,
Tiffany, Rose, Portia, London, Vienna, Shelby, Constance, Lorna, Kiki, and Astrid—everyone dressed in their colorful cocktail gear, everyone smiling and glowing, and felt completely and utterly at peace. The only people missing were Noelle, who was off with Dash somewhere, and Amberly, who was a freshman and therefore not eligible to attend the party.