hugged her notebooks to her chest and curled her slim shoulders in against the wind, her chin tucked down so it was almost hidden behind the books. “But if you're going to put something on a page and ask people to read it, you have to be able to handle the criticism.”
“I guess,” I said as we reached the front door to Billings. “It just seemed mean.”
Ariana stopped and stared at the door. The sky chose that moment to open up. A fat raindrop plopped right in the middle of my forehead.
“Look, Reed, if you can't handle it then maybe you shouldn't come back,” Ariana said rather harshly. She placed her hand on the door handle and gripped hard enough for her knuckles to turn white.
“I never said I couldn't handle it,” I told her. “I just--”
“No. You don't have the stomach for it,” she said, looking me in the eye. “And that's fine, but just don't pretend to be something you're not. It's a waste of your time. And mine.”
Whoa. Okay. Where had that come from?
Ariana whipped open the door to Billings and strode inside. For a long moment I stood there, feeling as if I'd just been slapped. Who the hell did she think she was, talking to me that way? She didn't know me well enough to know what I was or was not capable of.
Anger seared my skin as I walked into Billings after her. I couldn't just let this one go without saying anything. First the implication that I had something to do with Thomas's disappearance and
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now this? What, exactly, was Ariana's problem with me? As I entered the foyer, I expected her to be on her way upstairs, but the place was deserted. Then I noticed that all the lights in the common room off the entryway had been dimmed. I slowly pulled off my scarf and shook it out as I went over to inspect the situation. The half-?dozen couches and chairs had been pulled together to face the big-?screen TV, and there were all my dorm mates, gathered together with snacks and drinks, watching the latest Orlando Bloom movie.
It was a very cozy scene and, after all the stress of the past few days, looked like the perfect antidote to my two tons of stress.
“Hi, Reed,” Taylor whis?
?pered from her spot on the first couch. Kiran glanced over her shoulder and fluttered a wave. Rose looked up and smiled.
“Hey,” I replied, already scoping out a spot.
Across the room near the fireplace, Ariana was just settling in on an overstuffed pillow at Noelle's feet. Noelle pulled a throw off the back of her chair and passed it to Ariana, never taking her eyes from the screen. She lifted an hors d'oeuvre--some kind of cracker, cheese, and black gunk combination--from a platter on the table next to her and placed the entire thing in her mouth.
“What's all this?” I asked.
“Movie night,” Rose whispered. “We do it once a month.”
“Sweet,” I said.
“Not for you, glass-?licker,” Noelle said in full voice. “You need to get back to the windows.”
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I blinked. “But I finished the windows.”
'Yeah. And they have more streaks than my mom's last dye job," Cheyenne said.
“Go to it,” Noelle said. “Maybe you'll be able to catch the last five minutes. But I doubt it.”
Everyone laughed. All fifteen of them. Fifteen times the humiliation. Ariana looked at me with those eerie eyes and smirked.
“Would you bring my bag upstairs for me, Reed?” she asked, holding out her messenger bag. “Thanks,” she added sweetly.
Then I saw Natasha was watching me, too, with a meaningful stare. I gave her a nod, feeling very CSI. There couldn't have been a more perfect opportunity to get back to my project. Back to that computer. And little did Ariana know she had just handed me the one thing I might need to finally break her password wide open. Her bag. Which undoubtedly had her planner inside.
Ariana thought I had no stomach? Just watch me.
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SUCCESS