As soon as we were inside the closet, Noelle closed the door and sat me down on a suede bench between racks of clothes. Tears
stung my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I braced my hands on the bench at my
sides and squirmed, gasping for air. The photo and
the black marbles and the clothing and the e-mails and now this. It was all too much. "Reed, you have to breathe," Noelle told me,
kneeling in her black dress in front of me. "You're freaking me out here. Please breathe." I gulped for air, but it stopped at my throat.
It wouldn't go through to my lungs. "Put your head between your legs." She forced my head down and I saw spots, but the next breath
hit home. My lungs burned as I sucked in air and coughed, tears of pain now coursing down my face, dropping onto the thick white
carpet at my feet. "That's it. Breathe," Noelle told me in a soothing voice. "Breathe."
When I finally started to return to normal, I sat up and took in a nice, long breath of air. I wiped my eyes and came away with black
streaks. So much for my professional makeover. "Better?" she asked. I managed to nod. "What is going on?" She got up from the
floor and sat next to me. "What was that all about?" I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't. I had just earned her respect. I couldn't tell her
that someone at Easton was screwing with me. Or that I was quite possibly losing my mind. I couldn't show her just how vulnerable I
was. Not now. Suddenly, now that my head was clear, I remembered. Remembered seeing Ivy just before we left Easton, beating a
hasty retreat away from Billings. All our bags had been stacked outside for at least fifteen minutes. She could have done this. She
could have switched out my bottle of Free for a bottle of Fleur. After all, she could have easily figured out which bag was mine--my
initials were embroidered on it. It had to have been her. It was the only explanation that made any sense.
"Reed?" Noelle prompted. I looked up at my friend, at her concerned face, but I knew I couldn't tell her. Not yet. Not until I was
sure. So I did something I'd found myself doing a lot lately. I lied. "I don't know. I don't... I don't know how that perfume got in my
bag, but the second I sprayed it, I guess it just all came rushing back," I replied. "Cheyenne always wore that perfume. I guess it just
brought it all back so vividly--finding her body, how awful that day was.... I don't know." Noelle pushed my hair behind my shoulder
and ran her hand down the length of it in a comforting way. "Are you sure that's it? There's nothing else you want to tell me?" "No," I
said, sniffling. "I just lost it for a second there. I'm sorry." I stood up and squared my shoulders, trying to show her I was okay. "Are
you sure you don't mind me borrowing a dress?" Noelle stood as well and turned toward the section of her closet where little black
dresses hung in neat rows. "Take your pick. As long as you're sure you're okay."
"I'm fine," I lied. "I have to be. I have a fund-raiser to run." Noelle smiled in a proud way. "That's my little--I mean, good for you,"
she said with a nod, correcting herself. "I'll go tell them you're okay. You just get dressed and clean yourself up." She picked up a
Charles David shoe box and extracted a small gold key from the toe of a stiletto heel inside. "You can even use the special cosmetics."
"Thanks." I smiled as she slipped out and closed the door behind her. The moment she was gone, I sat down at the dressing table and
stared at myself in the mirror. Eyeliner dripped down my face, and the cream blush that had been so carefully applied was all but
gone. I looked like a sad clown who'd been caught in a rainstorm. Scary. Freakish. Insane.