mind was on Josh and Hauer and a million other things. It took a lot out of me. Noelle stood, selected a small tart, and wrapped it in a
linen napkin to bring with her upstairs. I had been hoping for a moment alone with her and was glad she had hung back from the
crowd. "I swear, with the amount of crap we've been consuming at these meetings, the eating disorders in this place are about to sky-
rocket," she joked. "Noelle," I said, wiping my palms on my wool skirt, "have you heard anything about Detective Hauer meeting
with Josh this afternoon?" Noelle smiled sympathetically. "Worried about the boy who dumped you? You're so sweet."
The boy who dumped me? I'd never told anyone that was how it had happened. Did she know, or did she just assume? Did she
know more about that night than she had let on? "I didn't-" "I'm just messing with you," Noelle said, stepping toward me. "I heard it
was just a routine questioning. Because apparently she used the same stuff to off herself as she used to mess with him. There's an ob-
vious connection." Obvious. Obvious that Cheyenne was a nut job who was capable of anything. Why wouldn't they just chalk her
death up to suicide and let it go? "Besides, didn't you say you both left campus before they had a chance to question you?" Noelle
asked, arching her brows. "Maybe they're just now catching up with Hollis as well. If, of course, that was really the reason for your
visit with the police the other night." My face turned warm. I felt as if she could see right into my brain. "Right. That makes sense."
Noelle smirked, then instantly shifted gears. "Don't worry, Reed. He'll be fine," she said kindly, soothingly. "He can take care of
himself." "I know." Or maybe Ivy was taking care of him. "Come on. You can help me with my Spanish. You're one of those dorks
who love homework, right?" she joked, knocking me with her arm as she passed me by "I'll be right up," I told her. I hoped she was
right--I hoped Josh was fine without me--but the idea that he could be only made my heart ache worse. As much as I was trying to
move on and cling to my anger with him over Ivy, I hated not knowing what was going on with him. I hated not being able to be there
for him. I hated myself for doing this to us.
LIFE AFTER HOLLIS
I had never been inside a Drake Hall common room before. It was nice. Cozy. There was a fire in the old stone fireplace, big
leather chairs all around the room, and the walls were paneled in dark wood. It had the feel of a mountain lodge. Not that I'd ever been
to a mountain lodge, but I imagined this was how it would feel. Unlike the common room on Josh's floor in Ketlar, there was no big-
screen TV or boys shouting over a round of Guitar Hero in the corner. The few guys dotted around the room were studying, carrying
on whispered debates. This was where the real students lived.
"So, where are you from, anyway?" I asked Marc. I leaned over the open Tupperware box on the table between us, chose one of the
flaky, homemade desserts his mother had sent him, and leaned back in my comfy leather chair. "We're supposed to be interviewing
you," Marc reminded me. "I'm bored of me," I replied. "Let's talk about you for a while." Marc smiled and turned off the recorder,
which sat next to the Tupperware. "I have one more question first, off the record," he said. "Sure," I replied, licking some powdered
sugar from my lower lip. Whatever I was eat
ing was damn good. "Is this an interview or a date?" he asked. My heart skipped a sur-