Invitation Only (Private 2) - Page 83

GET­TING A LIFE

I rest­ed my tem­ple on the cool glass of the train's win­dow and watched the world come to life as the sun slow­ly rose above au­tumn-?col­ored trees. The hum of the train had long since swept most of my class­mates off to slum­ber, but I couldn't tear my eyes off the view. It was too in­cred­ibly beau­ti­ful. Beau­ti­ful and blurred and ripe with pos­si­bil­ity. I didn't want to miss any­thing.

All around me peo­ple snoozed and snored. Noelle had passed out with her head on Dash's shoul­der, her tiara askew. His jack­et had been pulled up to half cov­er his face and his arm rest­ed around Noelle's back, his fin­gers curled around her el­bow in a lov­ing, gen­tle way. Ev­ery so of­ten I glanced back at them and smiled. It was the most at peace they had ev­er been in my pres­ence.

Some­where in the back of the car, Ar­iana and Tay­lor whis­pered. Ki­ran was dead to the world, laid across a three-?seater with her fur un­der her head on Gage's lap and Whit­tak­er's jack­et over her. Whit had at­tempt­ed to get Gage to give her his coat, to which Gage had replied, 'Yeah, right. I get cold, too, you know." So

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Whit­tak­er had im­me­di­ate­ly tak­en off his own jack­et and spread it over Ki­ran's prone form. Now Whit dozed at the front of the car, hug­ging him­self, snor­ing loud­er than any­one.

I heard a sigh and glanced left. Natasha sat up straight in the far win­dow seat, her knee up, her el­bow rest­ing on it, hold­ing her fin­gers to her mouth. She stared out at the world, pen­sive and sad, and I won­dered what our re­la­tion­ship was go­ing to be like now. She had shared her biggest se­cret with me, though ad­mit­ted­ly not by choice. Would we be friends now? Re­main en­emies? I hoped it was the for­mer. Now that I knew she wasn't an ac­tu­al black­mail­er, I had a feel­ing she might be in­ter­est­ing to get to know.

Some­one stepped in­to my line of vi­sion and I blinked out of a trance I hadn't re­al­ized I was in. I looked up slow­ly in­to Josh's face and my heart thumped. That was the sec­ond time tonight. What, ex­act­ly, was my heart up to?

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey. Mind if I... ?” He ges­tured at the emp­ty seat.

“No. Go ahead.”

Josh sat down and blew out a sigh, press­ing his palms in­to his thighs and set­tling back. Of all the guys on the train, he was the least di­sheveled. Shirt still tucked in, tie on­ly slight­ly loos­ened, all but one but­ton done. It didn't es­cape me that this meant he most like­ly had kept his hands to him­self all night. Some­how, the re­al­iza­tion of this made me hap­py.

“So. In­ter­est­ing night, huh?” he said.

“Def­inite­ly. I would def­inite­ly say that,” I replied.

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“But... no Thomas.”

The train hit a turn and squealed like mad. I caught my breath and pressed my fin­gers in­to the seat back in front of me. Josh chuck­led and touched my arm.

“It's okay. Just a turn,” he said.

“No. I know,” I said.

What had freaked me out more was that I hadn't thought about Thomas once since I'd seen Leanne and Natasha to­geth­er. I had for­got­ten all about him.

And maybe that was a good thing.

“I'm sure he's okay,” I said. Most­ly just to have some­thing to say.

The truth was, at that very mo­ment, I no longer cared. He had left me. He had bailed with­out the cour­tesy of a good-?bye and left me there to fend for my­self with the Billings Girls and Whit­tak­er and the po­lice. Clear­ly he didn't care about me. I had done ev­ery­thing I could, even dat­ed a guy I wasn't re­mote­ly at­tract­ed to, in or­der to so­lid­ify my in­vite to the Lega­cy and the pos­si­bil­ity of see­ing him, but he hadn't even cared enough to show up. He had to have known there was a good chance I would be there, but he had stayed away.

No. As of that mo­ment, I was over Thomas Pear­son. As of that mo­ment, I was mov­ing on.

“Yeah. I'm sure he is,” Josh said, sound­ing none too con­vinced.

'You know what? I don't want to talk about Thomas any­more,"

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I said. “I mean, I want him to be okay and ev­ery­thing, but to tell you the truth, I'm over him. He's off hav­ing his life, and that's fine. But it al­so means that I get to have mine.”

Josh glanced at me, eye­brows raised. “Re­al­ly?”

“Re­al­ly,” I replied with a nod.

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