Legacy (Private 6)

"Josh!" I gasped, gripping his hand. "What? What's the matter?" "Cheyenne," I told him, breathless. A crowd of men in dark suits moved in between myself and Cheyenne, and when they moved away again, she was gone. I scanned the crowd like a crazy person, but she had disappeared. Was she a figment of my imagination? "Cheyenne what?" Josh asked. "Reed, take a breath."I did as I was told, and my brain cleared a bit. A figment of my imagination. Of course she had been. Cheyenne was dead. Her parents had just sent her ashes into the wind. I was just tired. Just imagining things. "What is it?" Josh asked again as I clutched his hand.

"Nothing. I just..." I glanced up at him and forced a strained laugh. "You're gonna think I'm crazy. I seriously just thought I saw Cheyenne." Josh blinked. "Oh. Okay, I could see why that would freak you out," he said with an understanding smile, briefly cupping my cheek. "You probably just saw one of her cousins or something. Someone who looks like her." I looked into his eyes and my panic dissipated. A cousin. Right. Someone who looked like her. Of course. I wasn't crazy. I'

d merely spotted a look-alike. What would I do without him? "Okay?" he asked, loosening his grip a bit. I nodded. "Okay. "You're sleeping in the car on the way home," he told me, slipping his arm around my waist as we started walking again. "Like Gage and Trey are gonna let me sleep," I said with a forced laugh. "I'll kick them out. You can sack out in the backseat," he told me. "How're they gonna get home?" I asked. "They'll find a ride. Everyone we know is here. All I care about is you," he added with a smile.

God, he was perfect. What had I been thinking, flirting with a hot billionaire real estate heir? Did I really need to create drama in my life when it seemed to have a way of finding me quite easily on its own? Answer? An emphatic no. I tipped my head to the side and rested it on Josh's strong shoulder as we made our way down the beach to his car. I loved him. I did. Him and only him. From this moment on.

* * *

"It's like a morgue in here," Astrid said that evening, hugging her purple sweater closer to her body. She shivered and sat down next to me on the settee in the foyer. Sabine leaned against the wall under the framed photos of illustrious Billings alumni, many of whom had been present that morning to pay their respects to their lost sister. In the parlor most of our fellow Billings Girls sat in pensive silence. The TV was on, but I was sure no one was paying attention to it. In the hour we'd been back on campus, not one person had even approached Cheyenne's room to take her parents up on their generous, if morbid, offer. "So much for that whole moving on thing." "Give it time," I said. "We did just scatter her ashes this morning." The moment we'd returned I'd run directly up to my room and stuffed the photo Cheyenne's mother had given me into one of my textbooks from last year, then shoved it in the very bottom of the bottom drawer of my desk. Out of sight, out of mind. Except that it wasn't, since it kept flashing across my mind's eye every other second. Yeah, moving on was not going to be easy. Especially not for me.

"My mum always says death is a natural part of life," Astrid said, looking down at her black-and-white checkered shoes. I noticed she had picked off most of her bright yellow nail polish and had eschewed her usual glitter eye shadow today, going for a more subdued gray. "But this doesn't feel natural, does it?" "That's because it's not. It's not natural when it's suicide," I said glumly. "We have to do something," Sabine said suddenly, pushing herself away from the wall. Being a true island girl, she owned no black clothing, and she looked awkward in my black skirt and gray top. Like she was a little girl playing librarian or something. "It's too depressing." Astrid and I glanced at each other. "Like what?" I asked. "I don't know. Something," Sabine said, pacing in front of us. "All of us together. Like you've said you all did last year. Something to cheer us up and help us to... you know... what's the word?" "Bond?" I suggested.

"Yes! Exactement!" Sabine's eyes were bright with excitement. "But what could we do?" Astrid asked, sitting up straight. "I'm not sure. Reed, you know these girls better than we do," Sabine pointed out. "What would they all like to do?" "I don't know... shop?" I joked. It was, after all, the universal Billings Girl pastime. "Brilliant!" Astrid said. "Yes! That's it!" Sabine added, clasping her hands together and pointing her index fingers at me. "Shopping. We should all go shopping together!" I blinked up at her. I'd been kidding, after all. I mean, was this really an appropriate moment for shameless acts of consumerism? "You think?" I said. "Definitely!" Sabine replied, pulling me up off the settee. "It's a perfect idea, Reed." A spark of something akin to excitement filled my chest. It would be so nice to do something normal. Something distracting. Something fun. The last few weeks had been so bleak, a few hours off from that would be such a relief.

"Well, we do have a free pass off campus all weekend...." Normally anything but flexible, Headmaster Cromwell had granted us all the passes because of the memorial service, knowing some families would be around and that some students would likely stay up at the Cape overnight. I suppose he assumed it would be easier just to give everyone a universal "get out of jail free" card than to deal with people coming in and filing requests every other second. "Good! You should go tell them. Cheer them up," Sabine said, pointing at the parlor. She and Astrid both looked so stoked by the idea, I could hardly say no. I walked over to the parlor door and peeked in. The other Billings Girls were all sitting on the U of couches, staring into space or whispering to each other. London twirled her hair around her finger, then let it go, then twirled it again. Portia toyed idly with her necklaces. Constance texted on her phone, undoubtedly to Whittaker. Other than the occasional whisper and the sound of her fingers punching the keys, the room was fairly silent.

"You guys? We kind of had an idea we wanted to run by you," I began. I had their attention instantly. "It was really Reed's idea," Sabine said, coming up behind me. "I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could all go shopping," I suggested. "Walk into town... hit those cute shops on Main Street? Maybe we could even have lunch at the Driscoll." "Really?" London and Vienna popped up like those moles in the Whack a-Mole games at the Jersey Shore. The whispering intensified into excited murmurs. "I am totally in," Portia said. "I am the Q of retail therapy." A few people laughed and the murmurs turned to chatter. Who needed what? Who was going to burn out Daddy's credit card first? The morgue had suddenly morphed into a cocktail party. Without the cocktails, of course. "This was a fab idea, Reed," Portia said, double air-kissing me. "I'm going to go do a shoe inventory right now." Tiffany, Rose, London, Vienna, Kiki, and Lorna were all smiling at me, and I suddenly felt an enormous sense of satisfaction. Felt very Noelle Lange. I had taken charge. I had just completely changed the vibe from depths of despair to excited anticipation in about two seconds flat.

Later that night everyone but me had been to Cheyenne's room. Shelby was the first to tentatively approach, but once the seal had been broken, all the other Billings Girls had been through there, whispering like they were in a museum. Only I stayed in my room, alone. I knew Cheyenne wouldn't want me to have anything of hers, and the last thing I needed was some token to remind me of my guilt each time I saw it. Finally, when they were all done, I heard everyone adjourn to the parlor to hang out, but I didn't join them. I felt heavy. Like I couldn't move. Bed was the only place I wanted to be.

I have no idea how long I lay there, staring at the ceiling--brooding about everything that had happened that day--but when the door opened, I sat up, more than ready for a distraction. Sabine struggled in with a large box covered in airmail stamps. She paused when she saw me. "Oh. I thought you were downstairs with everyone else," she said. "Nope. What's that?" I asked, gesturing at the box. "Care package from home," she said, dropping it on the floor of her closet. "I left it downstairs before." "Cool. Aren't you going to open it? " I asked as she closed the closet door. "Maybe later. My mother always puts in these sentimental notes and cards," she said, pushing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "I'm sort of not in the mood."

I could understand that. There had already been way too much emotional spillage around here today. "What did you take from Cheyenne's?" I asked. "Nothing," Sabine said, picking at some unseen speck on the back of her desk chair. "I don't want anything of hers." Then she pulled a small pink jewelry box from the pocket of her jeans. "Tiffany made me take this, though. She made Constance, Lorna, and me all take them." She cracked the box open. Inside was a very familiar diamond Bona gold chain. My heart thumped extra hard when I saw it: the symbol of Billings membership Cheyenne had given to each of us at the beginning of the year, but had withheld from Sabine, Constance, and Lorna--the girls she had deemed unworthy. Tiffany must have found them in her room. I hadn't worn mine in days. Thinking about it now, I realized I hadn't seen any of the Billings Girls wearing them. When had they stopped?

"Are you going to wear it? " I asked. "No." She snapped the box closed and tossed it unceremoniously on her desk. "Diamonds are so tacky," she joked, smiling wanly. I exhaled a laugh. For a long moment neither of us said a word. "Do you want to... I don't know... play cards or something?" I asked finally. Sabine's green eyes lit

up. "Definitely!" She came over and bounced down on my bed as I fished a deck of cards from my top desk drawer. From that moment on it was all Spit and Rummy and Go Fish, which Sabine had never played. Neither of us mentioned Cheyenne again, and for a couple of hours I actually felt close to normal. Not completely. But close.

BEST IDEA EVER

"You must let me buy it for you, Reed," Portia said. "It is so you."

It was a gorgeous dress. A red Nicole Miller, sleeveless and slim, with a skirt that hit just above the knee and a sophisticated boat neck. It accentuated my long legs and defined arms, and was sexy without being slutty. Kind of a perfect Billings Girl dress. It had been a long time since I'd felt anything this luxurious touch my skin. Not since I'd gotten rid of all the stuff Noelle and the others had given me last year. I'd even trashed that frothy, shimmery gold gown they'd chosen for me to wear to the Legacy--perhaps the only move I regretted. I had felt so beautiful that night. So... not me. Sort of how I felt looking at myself right now. Part of me would have loved to have just said, "Sure, Portia. Ring it up." But it was a six-hundred-dollar dress. And also red. A little bit "look at me!" for my taste.

"It's too expensive," I told Portia, checking my reflection from the side. "BFD. Besides, 'expensive' is a relative term," Portia said with a sniff. Ew. "I wasn't expecting to buy anything. I only tried it on for fun." "Isn't that what this day is supposed to be all about? Fun?" Tiffany asked, leaning back in the large dressing room to snap my picture. She was wearing a silver minidress with a halter collar. Her appearance would have caused accidents on any major freeway in America. "Let the girl buy it for you. She has money coming out of her--" "Don't finish that sentence!" Portia demanded, throwing up a hand. "Like I really need the visual of money coming out any of my orifices. Why do people think that's amusing?" She forcibly turned me to the side and undid the zipper. "Take it off. We're putting it on the card. What's another six bills gonna matter anyway? Look at my pile."

I looked. Sweaters, skirts, scarves, dresses. The pile was the size of a VW Bug. "Well, maybe. But if I'm going to get it, I'm going to get the green one," I said. "Uh, no. Green is my color," Portia said. "Excuse me?" I asked. "Green. It's my signature color," she replied, blithely fluffing her hair in the mirror. She did, come to think of it, wear a lot of green. "I'm only buying it if it's the red." Tiffany and I looked at each other and laughed. "Guess the fairy godmother gets to pick out the clothes," Tiffany joked, earning a scathing look from Portia, which she ignored. "But you should get it anyway, Reed. Red is a good color for you. It's a power color." A power color. Huh. I looked at my reflection again. It did sort of highlight my brown hair and still semitanned skin. If red was a power color, maybe I should get used to wearing it. That was the whole point of being at Easton, after all. To breakout of the Croton, Pennsylvania, rut and live life the way these girls lived it. Live life as someone who was going somewhere. Someone who got noticed. "Come on, Reed. Decision time," Portia said, flicking out her American Express Black and holding it up between two fingers. "This offer expires in five... four... three... two--" "Okay! Okay, I'll take it," I said. "But I owe you one." I stepped out of the dress and added it to Portia's pile on the bench, then pulled my jeans and sweater back on. Portia smirked. "Great. Can't wait to see how you pay me back." I wasn't sure if that was a dig or not--or maybe a threat, considering all the not-so-pleasant things I'd had to do for the Billings Girls in the past--but I didn't get a chance to ask. London and Vienna chose that moment to barrel into our room all flushed with excitement, their arms full of clothes. "What're you guys getting?" London asked, eyeing Portia's armful. "Just a few things," Portia said. "It's really too bad about the Legacy. They have some gorge gowns in that back room." "I know. God. Halloween is going to be such a downer this year," London pouted. "I'm totally wearing my gown anyway. I'll wear it to class if I have to." Just like that, an idea hit me like a smack to the head. An idea so obvious I was shocked it hadn't occurred to anyone before now. The perfect way to give the Billings Girls what they wanted, but to do it in a totally unshallow, socially acceptable way. "What if we had our own masquerade party?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Portia asked. "I mean, if the Legacy isn't going to happen, maybe Billings should throw its own masquerade ball," I said. "It would just be Easton students, but it would be something to do. And someplace to wear your gowns." "Interesting," Tiffany murmured, her bottom lip protruding. "Wait a minute. I thought you were all 'how can we party when Cheyenne SFU,'" Portia said, unburdening herself of her clothing pile again. "What's with the one-eighty?" "Well, I was thinking we could do it as a fund-raiser in Cheyenne's name," I suggested. "We can establish a scholarship in her honor and sell tickets to the ball. All the proceeds could go into the scholarship fund." "The Cheyenne Martin Scholarship Fund!" Vienna cheered, bouncing up and down as she clapped her hands.

"Oooh. I like that idea!" Tiffany said. "Like it? It's effing brill," Portia said. "And now I can go try on gowns!" Portia gave me a double air-kiss before twirling out of the room. Tiffany patted me on the back and London and Vienna whipped me up in a three-way hug. "Reed, you are totally my savior!" Vienna said. "Best idea ever," London agreed. They all ran out of the room on Portia's heels, knocking on dressing room doors and spreading the news to the other girls. I was left behind to revel in my moment of glory. It was a good idea. And it felt good to be doing something in Cheyenne's name. Something she never would have expected me to do. Like maybe I was proving her wrong about me somehow. "Reed! I just heard about the fund-raiser! What an incredible thought! Her parents are going to freak!" Constance rambled, bounding into my room with Sabine on her heels.

"Definitely. It's absolutely perfect," Sabine added. "Yeah, go you," Missy grumbled as she walked by. "Like no one's ever created a scholarship fund before." I rolled my eyes and ignored her, choosing to bask in the glow of praise. I just hoped that my new red dress would be special enough for the party. But then, I was the one throwing it, wasn't I? For once I was going to be able to set the standard. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled. I really felt like a whole new Reed.

LADIES WHO LUNCH

The restaurant at the Driscoll Hotel was all old-world elegance. Gleaming oak tables, gold fleur-de-lis wallpaper, gleaming crystal stemware, white linen napkins, sun-streaked windows overlooking a beautiful pond where actual swans cut sleek lines across the smooth surface. It was the type of place that would have made a girl in jeans and boots feel out of place... if she hadn't been surrounded by fourteen of the most impeccably dressed and groomed girls on the East Coast.

The atmosphere at the table was convivial as we all chatted over finger sandwiches and iced tea. My Billings Masquerade idea had upped everyone's moods considerably, and all anyone could talk about was where it should be held, who should be invited, and who might need to be paid off to keep the liquor flowing and the authorities at bay. I hadn't heard this much laughter in days. "Nice work, Reed," Sabine whispered in my ear as she refolded her napkin in her lap. "What do you mean?" I asked. She draped her arm over the back of my chair and leaned in. "Look around. Your day trip plan definitely worked. No one here looks depressed about Cheyenne." My heart contracted at the sound of her name, but I let it pass. She was right. Everyone was clearly starting to move on. Mrs. Kane would be so pleased. Tiffany stood up, tapping her fork against her glass. Everyone instantly fell silent and looked up at her expectantly. "I'd like to make a toast," Tiffany said, lifting her glass. "To our friend Cheyenne." Heart squeeze. "We'll miss you. And we hope that wherever you are, you're happier than you were here."

Tiffany raised her glass higher and everyone did the same. "To Cheyenne." We all clinked and everyone fell silent for a moment, each thinking her own private thoughts. I just hoped Cheyenne was, in fact, out there somewhere and that she would appreciate our gesture in her name. That it might somehow make things right. Finally, London stood and cleared her throat. "There's a... a... what is it? A point of business we need to take care of!" she announced, seeming pleased that she'd used such an important-sounding phrase. "Billings needs a president. I think we should elect one now." "Is that really appropriate?" Missy asked, her face screwing up in consternation. If she wasn't careful, she was really going to give herself premature wrinkles. "Cheyenne's only been gone a week." A few people murmured their agreement. "Yeah, and if she were here with us now, I think she'd say that Billings needs a leader," Vienna put in, standing next to London. They looked as Twin Cities as ever, one in a purple knit minidress, the other in a black knit minidress, and each with a colorful scarf holding back her teased hair. "Besides, we all know who it's going to be. What's the point in putting off the inevitable?" Wait. We all know who it's going to be? Who? I didn't know. I looked up, curious, and saw that everyone aside from Missy was staring at me. I pushed back from the table, overcome by a sudden wave of extreme heat. "What? No way."

"Are you saying you don't want to be president of Billings?" Portia demanded. Like the very idea was just unimaginable. "No, I'm not. I just... why me?" I asked, flabbergasted. "Reed, it's totally obvious," Rose said gently, leaning into the table so I could see her.

"Look at all you've done this year. You were the only one who stood up to Cheyenne during initiation--" "You've shown everyone here what it really means to be a strong Billings role model," Tiffany confirmed. "You stood up for what you believed in, even when all your sisters didn't agree." "You stood up for us," Lorna clarified, earning an irritated look from Missy. "And then coming up with this retail therapy idea... and the masquerade and scholarship fund," Rose said. "All you." "You're already our leader. It's just not official yet," Astrid said.

"Besides, you're a junior, so you can hold the post for two years," Tiffany added, lifting her camera to snap my picture and preserve my stunned expression for posterity. "If there's one thing Billings needs right now, it's a little stability." My palms were sweating in my lap. I didn't deserve this. I didn't. Cheyenne would still have been there if it wasn't for me. Or so she said. I couldn't take her place. Could I? "I don't know what to say," I blurted. "You don't have to say anything," Tiffany replied. "All in favor of Reed Brennan for president?" she said. "Aye!" came the general reply. They all raised their hands. All fourteen of them. Even the ever-silent Shelby Wordsworth. Even Missy, though her hand didn't make it quite as high as the others. Everyone applauded politely so as to not disturb the other ladies-who-lunch, and suddenly I couldn't stop smiling. I felt so honored. So stunned. So floored that they would want me. That they would all want me. This was just what I needed. A united house. The confidence of my friends. A real new beginning. Reed Brennan. President of Billings House.