I knew everyone would be coming up the front, so I raced for the safety of the back stairwell. Once inside, I slumped down on the steps and struggled to catch my breath.
They had framed Leanne because of me. It was my fault Leanne had been booted. My fault Natasha was so upset she was willing to blackmail people and sneak around behind their backs. It was all for me. So that I could live here. So that I could be a Billings Girl.
It was sick. It was twisted. It was evil. But it was also for me. No one had ever done anything like this for me before. They had risked their own futures to get me into Billings and solidify mine. As disgusted as I was, I was also more than a little bit flattered.
And how had I repaid them? I had snooped through their rooms. Uncovered their most embarrassing secrets. For a moment I was overcome with shame. These were my friends, and I had betrayed them.
But I still had one question. Why were they my friends? Why had they brought me to Billings at all? What were they getting out of it? Why did they even want me here? Just so they could order me around? It didn't make any sense. None of this made any sense.
164
A door slammed right above me and I was on my feet again, racing down the stairs fast enough to keep up with my pulse. I had to get back to my room anyway. Get back there and think. I had the evidence now. I had what Natasha needed. The question was, would I ever share it with her?
165
SUSPICIOUS EYES
The next morning while Natasha was in the shower, I threw on jeans and a sweatshirt, tossed my hair into a ponytail, and snuck out, closing the door as quietly as humanly possible. I had risen early and had already redone all the first-?floor windows in an effort to avoid being in the room when her alarm went off. Now was the perfect chance to bail before she could ask me if I'd found anything and before the other girls could strong-?arm me into more chores.
It was a cool, cloudy morning and I shrugged into my coat as I quickly dialed Thomas's room on my cell phone. I hurried away from Billings, hoisting my bag over my shoulder as I held the phone to my ear. The campus was as silent as a graveyard. My breath made steam clouds in the cold morning air. The marigolds that lined the walk to Billings were bent from the weight of the frost that covered their petals. I struggled to button my coat with one frigid hand. Josh picked up on the fifth ring.
'“Lo?” he asked. He was still asleep.
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“Josh, I'm so sorry to wake you.” “Who is this?” he asked.
“It's Reed,” I said. Suddenly I felt as if someone was watching me. I paused at the intersection of the path to the girls' dorms and the path to the library and looked around. The quad was completely deserted except for a squirrel zipping here and there under one of the benches.
“Reed. What's wrong?” he asked me. “Is it Thomas? Did you hear from him?”
“No,” I said, squirming at the mention of the name. “I just have to talk to you about something. Can you meet me in the caf in, like, fifteen minutes?”
“Uh... sure,” he said. “I'll be right there.” “Thanks,” I told him.
The moment I hung up the phone, I felt a chill down my back. I whipped around and my heart rocketed into my throat. I gasped, startled, and then choked. Detective Hauer was three feet behind me. His brow creased as he approached me, his black trench coat billowing behind him.
“Are you all right, Miss Brennan?” he asked me. I pounded on my chest with my free hand and tried to get control of my cough. Miss Brennan. He'd remembered my name. He'd met about five hundred kids over the past two weeks and he'd remembered my name. That could not be good. “I'm fine,” I said. “Fine. You just scared me.” “Sorry,” he replied, though he didn't look it. “I like a stroll in the morning. Clears my head.”
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He looked like he was waiting for a response, so I gave him one. “That's .. . nice.”
“And you?” he said.
“And me what?”
“What are you doing out here so early?” he asked. “It was a long time ago, I admit, but I sort of remember liking my sleep as a teenager.”
“Yeah, well, I'm an individual,” I said with a laugh, throwing my hands out. I was acting like a derranged scarecrow.
“Who were you talking to?” he asked, eyeing my phone. He rubbed his hands together and blew into them.
“Oh, uh . . .” There didn't seem to be any reason to lie. “Josh. Josh Hollis. He's meeting me at breakfast.”
“Thomas Pearson's roommate?” he said, raising his bushy eyebrows. “That Josh Hollis?”
Why did he have to make it sound suspicious? What the heck was wrong with me meeting Josh?