Vanished (Private 12)

“Cool,” Lorna said, grinning. “I think it’s so awesome that you did all this, Reed. It would have sucked if the whole Billings thing had just died because the dorm got torn down.”

“Thanks,” I said, a flutter of pride masking my sadness for a moment. Part of me wondered what, exactly, she meant by “the whole Billings thing.” I thought most people just saw Billings as a cool place to live, but clearly it meant more to Lorna than that—just like it did to me–which made me like her more.

Lorna took a deep breath of the crisp winter air and squinted across the quad. “Who’s that guy with Ivy?” she asked.

I followed her gaze and saw that Ivy was standing near the library steps with the shaved-headed, leather-coat-wearing dude I had come to refer to in my mind as Tattoo Guy, due to the extremely intricate tattoo on the back of his neck. I had seen them together the month before, having an early-morning snowball fight on campus. She and Josh had still been together at the time, and I remembered thinking that she was acting kind of flirty with Tattoo Guy. Inappropriately flirty. And now, here he was again, and they seemed to be having some kind of intense conversation. Ivy gestured angrily with her hands, while he had his own hands stuffed under his armpits, looking like he was about to explode.

“That guy does not go here,” Lorna said, wrinkling her nose.

“No. He definitely does not.”

There was an odd, twisting sensation in my gut as we drew closer. We were a few feet away, about to pass them on our route to the dining hall, when Tattoo Guy glanced in our direction. I thought he was just looking away from Ivy, but when he saw me, he simply stared. Stared as if he knew and hated me. As if he could tear me to shreds with that one glance.

Stop it, I told myself. You’re just being paranoid because of everything that’s going on. He’s clearly arguing with Ivy and you just happened to be in his line of sight.

Ivy touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her. She gave me a quick, almost apologetic wave. Lorna and I kept walking, but all the way to the dining hall, my spine felt tingly and cold, like he was still staring at me.

Like at any second he was going to drive a knife into my back.

“First order of business,” Portia Ahronian said, standing up. Everyone else settled in among the pillows and blankets strewn on the floor of the old Billings Chapel. We’d just finished the oath, and I was more than happy to let her take over. My eyes were dry with exhaustion and my brain was fuzzy and tired, even as my heart continued to race with nervousness. “Is anyone going to this lame V-Day dance?”

“You make it sound so attractive,” Tiffany joked, reaching for the package of chocolates at the center of the circle. Portia sat down next to Tiffany, her signature gold necklaces glinting in the candlelight, and snagged the chocolate right out of Tiff’s hands. Tiff sighed indulgently and chose another piece.

“I thought Billings Girls don’t do school dances unless they’re mandatory,” Ivy put in. There was a touch of disdain in her voice. Before she became one herself, Ivy had never been a big fan of the Billings Girls and their ways.

“We don’t. Usually,” Rose Sakowitz said. She took a sip of sparkling cider, which we’d decided to bring in lieu of champagne to prevent Vienna from showing up to any more classes hungover. “But I want to see Damon on Valentine’s Day and he wants to come to the dance, so …”

Rose’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, Damon Hazelton, attended The Barton School, another private school nearby.

“Really? You’re going?” Amberly asked, wrinkling her pert little nose. Her blond hair was back in a tight bun, and her pink turtleneck sweater made her look like a prima ballerina.

“Maybe we should all think about going,” Lorna said, pulling her wide-weave wool sweater tighter around herself as a cold wind whipped through one of the broken stained-glass windows. “I mean … it could be fun … if we all go.”

Kiki and Astrid exchanged a look and rolled their eyes.

“What do you think, Reed?” Lorna asked.

Everyone turned to me expectantly. Once again I felt the weight of responsibility, of my position as leader of the BLS, pressing down on me.

“Yeah. You’re strangely silent tonight,” Ivy said, sitting up straight and dusting off her hands. Guess we hadn’t gotten the floors completely clean on our recent work night.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just tired.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think we should go.”

“You do?” Vienna blurted. “No way.”

“Did you guys know that Constance and London are planning the dance?” I asked.

r /> Dumbfounded stares greeted my question. Guess that would be a “no.”

“Oh, please. No way,” Vienna said, flipping her thick hair over her shoulder. “First of all, London would never participate in something so pedestrian. And secondly, if she did, she would tell me about it.”

“Apparently not,” I said, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but seeing that it was inevitable. “I saw Constance’s planning notebook and asked her about it. She said she and London are doing it together.”

There was some uncomfortable shifting in place as everyone eyed Vienna, waiting for her reaction. She and London had been inseparable until the whole BLS thing.

“Oh. Okay,” Vienna said, her tone detached as she stared at the floor. “That’s that, then.”

She reached for the bottle of sparkling cider and brought it to her lips, kicking her head back to down half the contents as if she were trying to drown her sorrows in the nonalcoholic drink. Then she dragged the back of her hand across her lips, smearing her dark red lipstick.