Ambition (Private 7)

ly, Noelle was in charge. "So if your parents want to fly in anyone from the West Coast, let me know by Friday. Daddy's going to let

us use his jet for one cross- continental run, so we'll need to make sure everyone knows where to be and when," Noelle was saying. A

few people made a note of this and Noelle glanced at the next item on her agenda. She had an agenda. "Okay, now--" "What's going

on?" I said loudly, announcing my presence to the room. Everyone turned around. My irritation must have been evident, because

many of them looked quickly, guiltily away.

"Reed! Good. There you are. We were just going over some of the details for the fund-raiser," Noelle said, unfazed. "I went to

Cromwell about the off-campus passes and he said four is the limit, so we're back to the original plan." She turned to Sabine and

shrugged. "Sorry, Frenchie. You're out." Sabine's face fell, which made me want to scream. Or hit something. Possibly Noelle. "Actu-

ally, I just talked to Cromwell and secured the extra pass," I said pointedly, my skin burning with barely suppressed ire. "So Sabine,

you're still in." Everyone looked from me to Noelle, as if we were volleying in a tennis match. Noelle's lips screwed up in something

that vaguely resembled a smile. "Well. I guess your powers of persuasion are improving." All the faces swiveled to me. "Yeah. I guess

they are," I replied. Silence. I had silenced Noelle. Cool. I walked into the room, dropping my bag and coat on the window seat, and

joined Noelle up front. "So, has anyone had any new ideas about the theme?" I asked.

Everyone looked at everyone else. There was so much tension in the room, I was surprised any of us could breathe. "Reed, can I

talk to you for a second?" Noelle said through her teeth, but maintaining a sunny tone. "Alone?" "Sure," I replied, just as sunnily.

"Why don't you guys brainstorm while we're gone? Constance, would you take notes?" As Noelle followed me out of the room, I

knew there would be no talk of the fund-raiser. All they were going to talk about was me and Noelle, and take bets on who might

throw the first bitch slap.

THE TRUTH

I led Noelle right into my room and whirled on her the moment she closed the door behind us. I was so full of pent-up emotion that

I was able to shove my fear of being there all the way to the back of my mind. "What the hell was that? You're calling meetings be-

hind my back now?" I demanded. God, it felt good to yell. It felt like all the confusion and stress were pouring right out of me. "This

is not about the fund-raiser. Screw the fund-raiser," Noelle replied, stepping toward me. "This is about Cheyenne." Instantly, my bal-

looned-up ego deflated to nothing. Determination, gone. Anger, gone. I glanced at my closed closet door. "What about Cheyenne?" I

asked quietly. "I'm only going to ask you this once, Reed," Noelle said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you have anything to

do with Cheyenne's death?" My heart dropped through my body so quickly I felt faint. "What?" I breathed.

"I need to know the truth. I'm not going to go through what I went through last year," Noelle said coolly. "Not again." I turned

away from her accusing eyes, my mind reeling. I couldn't focus on anything, and the details of my room seemed to circle in front of

me. The window, the desk, the photo of me and Scott, my bedspread, my lamp, the window, the desk--everything swirled. "You can't

really think... you can't really think that I could do something like that." "That's not an answer, Reed. I know you were the one the po-