Ambition (Private 7)

dossier." "It's not so ancient, from what I understand," I replied, thinking of the photo of Ivy and Cheyenne on their first day at Easton.

That was only three years ago. They had come here as best friends. "Reed, as long as I knew those two they were like polka dots and

plaid," Noelle said, taking a step toward me. "They never got along. What is your sudden obsession with Ivy Slade anyway? She eats

one meal with Hollis and suddenly you're on the warpath?" "No warpath," I replied, ignoring the pang in my chest at the mention of

Ivy with Josh. "Just natural curiosity." "Well, bag it," Noelle said. "We have more important things to focus on. Like saving your rep

as Billings president. Unless you want to go down in history as the person responsible for bringing this place down." Satisfied that she

had put me in my place, Noelle turned and strode out of the room. But she hadn't put me in my place. Not by a long shot. I was more

convinced than ever that Ivy's past and her current icy demeanor were somehow entwined with Billings and even more so with

Cheyenne.

Standing there alone, I suddenly saw something move out of the corner of my eye. Something outside the window. Heart in my

throat, I raced over and shoved the lace curtain aside. Someone was just ducking around the corner of Billings, and I could have sworn

I saw a dark ponytail being tossed in the breeze. Determined to catch Ivy at her game--whatever that game was--I started toward the

lobby, but then I realized I didn't have my key on me. If I went out there, I'd have to shout up at the front windows to get someone to

let me back in. So instead, I took a deep breath and told myself to chill. I didn't have to chase her. I knew it was her. But what was she

doing lurking around Billings after dark? Was she waiting for us all to go upstairs? And if so, why? Whatever Noelle said, it was clear

that Ivy had a major interest in Billings. And I was going to find out what it was.

DEFENSIVE

It's difficult to research a paper on World War II when your ex-boyfriend may or may not be starting up a relationship with one of

the people you loathe most. The only invasion of enemy territory I could think about was Josh potentially invading Ivy's. Not a pleas-

ant thought. After an hour and a half in front of my computer later that night, I had exactly three sentences, all of which sounded as if

they could have been written by a third-grader. I kept endeavoring to focus, sit up straight, pay attention to my notes. Then five min-

utes later I would find myself staring out the window, thinking about the art cemetery nightmare--with Ivy playing the Cheyenne part

this time--and flinch. Only then would I realize I had stopped working. Again.

I had just woken up from one such reverie when I heard Sabine let out a mournful sigh. Propped up against her pillows on her

white bedspread, she lazily turned a page in her chemistry book. Then she blew out a loud breath. Clearly, something was on her

mind. I closed my laptop and turned toward her in my chair. Not like I was getting anything done here anyway. "Hey, Sabine?"

"Yeah?" she asked, eyes trained on her book. "Everything okay?" I asked. "I guess." Not exactly a positive tone. She toyed with

the silver ring on her left hand, turning it around and around with the pad of her thumb. "What's the matter?" I hooked my elbow

around the back of my chair. "Nothing." Her gaze flicked in my direction. "You'll just get angry if I tell you." She turned the page

again, not fooling anyone. The girl was getting about as much work done as I was. "Did I do something?" I asked, dreading the an-