Vanished (Private 12)

I was an awful human being.

“Hey. Great necklace!” Diana Waters said to me as we slid our trays down the food line at dinner that night. Diana was one of my few friends outside the Billings circle. With her athletic, tomboy style, jewelry wasn’t something I ever would have thought she’d notice. But of course she noticed my one stolen item. “Where’d you get it?”

“I … it … was a gift,” I lied. My heart pounded in my ears. Was that cafeteria lady with the ladle staring at me? Did she know something?

Looking away, I grabbed a big bowl of mashed potatoes and added it to my tray, which was already loaded down with marinara-sauce-covered spaghetti and garlic bread. Comfort food at its finest.

“WTF, Reed? Are you carbo-loading for some marathon I don’t know about?” Portia asked, glancing over her shoulder at me. Her tray held only a small salad, a bottle of water, and a plain piece of grilled chicken. All the better to fit into that size 00 houndstooth Chanel skirt she was sporting.

“Sorry if it’s not my goal to disappear when I turn sideways,” I replied.

Portia smirked. Clearly, she was proud of the fact that she had wrists so skinny she could practically wrap her fingers around them twice.

“See you in class, D,” I said to Diana.

She gave me a wave, still eyeing the necklace admiringly. Part of me wanted to just tear it off and give it to her, but my instructions were clear. I had to be seen wearing my stolen item on campus. So I grabbed a Sprite and fell into step with Portia, lifting my chin high to ensure the necklace was on full display as we walked into the dining hall. Already the tables were jam-packed with students, noshing, talking, laughing, and even—in the case of one of the guys’ tables—pinging grapes off one another’s heads. Portia turned toward the tables at the center of the room where the rest of the Billings Literary Society members sat, but I paused when I saw Josh waving me down from the far side of the room.

“I’ll catch up,” I told her.

She rolled her eyes slightly. “Ah, young love.”

I rolled my eyes back. Maybe that was Portia’s problem. Maybe that was why she didn’t want to go to the Sweethearts Dance. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since I’d known her. In lighter times, I would have immediately focused on finding her one to curb her acerbic tendencies and make Valentine’s Day fun for her, but I kind of had a lot on my plate right then.

“Hey,” I said, hovering at the end of Josh’s lonely table.

He used his toe to nudge the chair across from him out from under the table. “Saved you a seat,” he said with a grin.

There was nothing I would have liked better than to sink into that chair and hang out with him for the next hour, but I’d been kind of neglecting the BLS girls lately. Besides, if anyone was going to actually notice the illegal bling around my neck, it was my girlfriends. And the more people who noticed it, the better. Somehow it had to get back to this mysterious kidnapper that I was sporting my stolen goods.

“Actually, I promised

the girls I’d sit with them tonight,” I said, biting my lip. “But maybe I’ll come over and join you for dessert?”

Josh’s face fell. He glanced past me at the Billings table and I saw his jaw clench and unclench. There wasn’t much in this world Josh hated more than he hated the Billings Girls. He thought they were shallow, obnoxious, and self-serving, and even though I knew them better than he did, I’d never been able to convince him otherwise. As a result, my friends had always been a bit of a thorn in the side of our relationship.

“Fine. Yeah. Whatever,” he said.

“Don’t be mad,” I implored. “I promise I’ll come over later.”

Josh forced a smile. “I’m cool. I’ve got some reading to catch up on anyway.”

“Thanks.”

I walked over to my usual table and sat down in the last chair, next to Portia, trying not to dwell on the fact that Josh was clearly pissed. Tiffany was sitting across from Portia, her short, dark curls pushed back from her forehead by a dark red headband. She was scrolling through pictures on her digital camera with Rose hanging over her shoulder to better see the frames.

“Hey, ladies,” I said, trying for a light tone. “What’re you looking at?”

“Shots from St. Barths,” Tiffany replied.

Rose laughed at something on the screen, her red curls shaking. “Check out this one of you and Noelle.”

She turned the camera around so I could see. There, on the screen, were me and Noelle, clad in bathing suits, our arms looped around each other as we model-posed for the camera. Noelle’s lips were pursed and my tongue touched my top lip, in what I thought at the time was a sexy pose. Now it just looked ridiculous. As my friends laughed and teased me, a bubble choked my throat.

I reached down and fiddled with my necklace.

Noelle. Where are you?

“Hey,” Ivy said, dropping down across from me. She put her tray down and her eyes instantly went to my necklace. Not surprising, considering I was now twisting it tightly around my pinky. “Wow. Reed, that’s beautiful,” she said, reaching out to finger the beads. I let it uncurl and it lengthened out again. “Did you get that at Sweet Nothings this afternoon?”