Scandal (21 page)

KISS A WUSS

That evening, studying alone in my room, I decided to call another meeting of the Billings Literary Society for Wednesday night. Between Noelle’s sarcasm, my fight with Ivy, the growing crowd at the anti-Billings table, and our encounter with the Billings alumnae, my brand-new secret society was already on seriously shaky ground. I needed to know that everyone was still with me. That Noelle wasn’t going to bail. That the others weren’t going to get skittish.

And I wanted to talk to Ivy. All day I’d only seen her from afar. She always seemed to be in a rush to get wherever she was going, her cell phone, permanently attached to her ear. Even though I was sending her telepathic messages to talk to me, to look at me, to feel me watching her, she never glanced at me once. It was as if I’d become invisible.

It wasn’t that I didn’t understand. I had done something awful. Something that was maybe even unforgivable. But at least I’d owned up to it. I’d never done that with Noelle after my five minutes of debauchery with Dash. Although that had been slightly different, since technically they were broken up at the time and technically we’d both been drugged. Josh and I had known exactly what we were doing, and he and Ivy were definitely together when we were doing it.

Yeah. She was never going to forgive me.

Still, her name was on the e-mail that went out to all the sisters of the BLS, asking them to meet at the chapel at 11 p.m. on Wednesday night. I had to know if she would come. If the society mattered more to her than my stupid actions did.

The moment I clicked “send” there was a knock on my door. I jumped to answer it. Josh slipped inside, his hair glistening with snow. My heart instantly slammed into overdrive. He looked … excited. It was amazing how his very presence made me forget all about my guilt, my regret, my hope for winning Ivy back.

“You have to stop coming here after hours. You’re going to get me in trouble,” I said with a grin, not meaning a word.

“Ivy and I broke up,” he whispered.

“Really? Oh.” I took a breath, trying to edit the four thousand questions and comments fighting for the tip of my tongue. I glanced in the direction of her room.

“She’s not here,” he said, reading my thoughts. “She’s at the solarium.”

“Okay.” I crossed my arms over my stomach, trying not to think of how Ivy must have felt at that moment. “I guess you know I told her.”

“Yeah. She wasn’t happy.” He slipped his coat off and dropped it on the back of my chair. I suddenly realized the “sent” list was still up from my BLS e-mail and I casually closed my laptop. As much as I loved Josh and wanted to share everything with him, the Billings Literary Society was going to remain a secret, even from him.

“I’m sorry,” I said, kneading my palm between my thumb and forefinger. “But if I were in her position, I would have wanted to know.”

“I get it,” Josh said, running his hands through his hair. He sat down on my bed and looked up through his curls. “Honestly, I was kind of glad I didn’t have to break it to her. I mean, I would have. I know I should have, but …” He hung his head. “Does that make me a wuss?” he asked sheepishly.

“Kind of, yeah,” I joked.

Josh reached up, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me onto his lap. My heart swooped over and over like a paper airplane tumbling through the sky.

“Care to kiss a wuss?” he asked.

“Eh, why not?” I replied.

And then he kissed me. And kissed me and kissed me and kissed me until I forgot where we were, forgot to wonder what it might mean, forgot about who we might hurt.

He kissed me until all that mattered was us.

THE HATHAWAY MEN

Josh was waiting for me outside Pemberly the next morning. The sky was a perfect bright blue and the air was still. I paused when I saw him there, looking freshly showered and adorable, his green wool turtleneck grazing his chin above the collar of his coat. He reached for my hand. I took it. Nothing had ever felt so amazing as his warm, rough fingers closing around mine.

“So, we’re doing this?” I said, my heart pounding erratically.

“We’re doing this,” he replied firmly.

I grinned. “All right then.”

We turned up the path toward the dining hall and I had to concentrate to keep from skipping. No one in the world was happier than me at that moment. I wished I could float in the feeling for days. Josh squeezed my hand and smiled and I knew he felt the same. This was the way it was supposed to be. Josh and Reed. Together.

Then Graham and Sawyer walked out the back door of Ketlar. The bottom of my stomach dropped out. They were about to turn toward the dining hall as well, but as soon as Sawyer saw us—saw my fingers entwined with Josh’s—he turned on his heel and stormed off in the opposite direction, taking the path that ran along the dorms. Graham looked furious as he followed after his brother. I knew why Sawyer was mad, but for the ten millionth time, I had to wonder about Graham.

“Josh, can you please just tell me what happened between you and Graham Hathaway?” I asked. “Why does he get all clenched every time he sees you?”

We had come across one of the many stone benches that dotted the campus. Josh blew out a sigh and checked his watch. “Let’s sit.”

Whoa. I needed to sit down to hear this?

“Okay.”

We sat on the cold bench. My butt froze instantly. I shifted and crossed my legs so only one cheek was resting fully on the frigid surface. Josh kept his grip on my hand and looked at his lap.

“The thing with Graham is … I used to go out with his twin sister, Jen,” Josh said.

My throat closed over. Didn’t I know someone else who had once dated Jen Hathaway? Oh yeah. Upton Giles. The
last
guy I’d kissed. I guess Sawyer had been right that morning at Shutters—Jen and I did have a lot in common. Including our taste in men.

“You know about Jen?” Josh asked, looking me in the eye. “You know how she …”

“Yeah,” I said. “I didn’t know she and Graham were twins, but … Sawyer told me how she died.”

On the island. He’d told me about how his sister had committed suicide over the summer. How she hadn’t left a note. How I reminded him of her. How we both should have steered clear of Upton.

Just like that my brain was off on a whole new tangent. Should I tell Josh about Upton? The two of us were still texting and e-mailing, but we were just friends now. Did it matter that a few weeks ago we were more than that?

“We were together for a few months my sophomore year,” Josh was saying, toying with my fingers. “But things did not end well.”

He let out a rueful scoff that begged a thousand questions, but my brain was too crowded to ask them.

“Anyway, Graham blamed me and I think that now that Jen’s gone it’s even harder for him,” Josh continued. “I don’t know if he’s pissed at her or pissed at the world in general, but…”

“That sucks,” I said finally, recrossing my legs so my right butt cheek could defrost. “I mean, I guess I get it, but it still sucks. I really like Graham. When he’s not, you know, beating up on my man.”

Josh let out a short laugh. “I do too,” he said, staring off in the direction in which the Hathaway boys had disappeared. “Or I did. We used to be pretty good friends.”

“How long had it been since you talked to Jen?” I asked. “I mean, did you ever talk before she—”

The sound of jaunty whistling distracted me and I stopped midsentence. Good thing, because coming down the path was Jen’s father, Headmaster Hathaway, his hands in his pockets as he strolled along. When he saw me sitting there, he started to smile his headmastery smile, but then he saw who I was with and he just kept walking. Just like that. No “hello.” No “good morning.” No attempt at playing the BFF headmaster. Josh averted his eyes as Double H passed us by, and my stomach turned.

It was a clean sweep. I had officially lost all three Hathaway men as friends and allies. I looked at Josh and we both smiled tentatively. It was an awkward situation, no doubt—our headmaster being the father of the boys who hated us.

But at least we were in it together.

LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED

I waited outside the chapel on Wednesday night, freezing under my wool coat, my feet jittery inside my snow boots, though that was more from nerves than the cold. Kiki and Astrid were the first to arrive, followed by Amberly and Lorna. Tiffany and Rose emerged from the trees together, blankets folded over their arms. Portia and Vienna toted a bag full of clinking bottles. I was going to have to talk to them about this. We couldn’t have champagne at every meeting or the Billings Girls were going to start flunking out of school.

Soon everyone was safely tucked inside except Noelle and Ivy. I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes past the meeting time. I took a breath and tipped my head back, watching the cloud of steam billow against the bare branches overhead. I would give them five more minutes. Then I was cutting my losses.

I heard a crunch and my head snapped down again. Noelle was walking purposefully toward me, carrying a white bakery box by its strings.

“I heard about what happened with Ivy,” she said, lifting the box. “Figured a Fat Phoebe party was in order.”

I smiled. It was the first moment since we’d returned from the islands that things felt absolutely normal between me and Noelle. Had I been wrong all along about the source of her attitude shift? Maybe it wasn’t that some Billings alumna had chosen to share the book with me and not her. Maybe she was simply jealous of my friendship with Ivy. It made sense. Because now here we were, smiling and comfortable—now that it seemed my relationship with Ivy was kaput.

I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about that. I was glad Noelle was offering an olive branch, but why did it have to come at the expense of my friendship with Ivy? “Thanks,” I said finally.

“So, I guess she’s not coming, huh?” Noelle said, turning to look out at the trees.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“I wouldn’t count me out just yet.”

The voice startled both of us so much that Noelle and I grabbed each other’s arms. Ivy emerged from the trees in a long black coat and black wool hat, her hands in her pockets. She hadn’t brought a thing with her—not a bag, a pillow, or anything—and the lack of bulk made her seem even slimmer than usual. Her pale skin practically glowed against the black sky, her high cheekbones severe with her hair pulled back from her face

“Ivy! Hey,” I said tentatively. My pulse raced with nervous anticipation as she paused in front of us. Was she here to hear me out or tear me to shreds? Her expression was so impassive it was impossible to tell.

“I’ll be inside,” Noelle said, slipping away without so much as a nod in Ivy’s direction.

Ivy didn’t seem to notice, however. Her gaze was fixed on me.

“Ivy, I’m so—”

She held up a black-gloved hand. “Don’t. I feel bad enough as it is.”

I almost fell over. “
You
feel bad?”

“I overreacted,” Ivy said, taking a step closer. Her slick black boots slid under the upper layer of hard snow, her toes disappearing beneath the surface. “The truth is … things with Josh weren’t right. I was trying too hard, you know? I should have broken up with him weeks ago, but I just … I didn’t want to be alone. Not yet.”

I swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be alone after the shooting. That was the implied meaning. Again, it all came back to being my fault.

“And I guess I also didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t in love with me,” she said. “He was still in love with you.”

I looked down at my feet, my toes hovering off the edge of the crumbling redbrick steps. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. It’s fine,” Ivy said. “It was fun while it lasted, but I’ve never really been a long-term relationship person anyway.”

I couldn’t have dreamed up a more serendipitous direction for this conversation if I tried. Ivy didn’t hate me. She had come to apologize to
me.
If I was dreaming, I just hoped I wouldn’t get pinched any time soon.

“So … we’re okay?” I asked, finally looking up again.

Ivy lifted a shoulder. “I don’t love the way you went behind my back, but I think I can get past it. Eventually.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Are you coming in, then?”

Ivy glanced past me at the chapel. I could sense her hesitation and wondered what was causing it. If she was okay with me, why wouldn’t she be okay with our sisters?

“Yeah. Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

She gave me a tight smile as she walked past me up the steps. I felt like I should try to hug her or pat her on the back or something, but everything I thought of felt awkward, so I just let her go. As she got to the doorway, a stiff wind blew the skirt of her coat up and out around her and for a moment my heart stopped. Her dark silhouette against the white wall of the church was like something out of a gothic novel. Or a horror movie.

I took a breath and the moment passed. I knew I was just feeling antsy about the tentativeness of our relationship. About the inkling that someone might be out there watching us. That at any moment the Billings alumni might storm from the woods and try to shut us down again.