arms out at his sides as if to give me a good look at what I'd be missing if I said no. "You know where to find me." He turned on his
heel and strode off toward the Ketlar tables, the eyes of every non-geriatric female in the room trained on him. Vienna pulled back and
kicked me again, right in the same spot.
"Vienna! Ow!" I said through my teeth, rubbing my leg. "Do I have to start wearing my shin guards to breakfast?" "What the hell
was that?" London demanded, tossing her fork down with a clatter. "What? Guys, I told you. I am not ready to go out with anyone
right now," I said. "Hunter Braden is not 'anyone,'" Portia hissed, leaning across the table. "Hunter Braden is..." She turned her palms
up and searched the skylights in the high ceiling as if God might provide a word worthy enough to describe him. "He's Hunter
Braden." "Exactly," Vienna said. "Besides, Reed, the best way to get over a breakup is to A, get back on the horse and B, make it a su-
per-hot horse so that C, the last horse gets very, very jealous." "And there is no horse hotter than Hunter," Tiffany put in from a few
seats down. Wow. Even levelheaded Tiff was behind this. Did no one understand what it was like to lose the love of your life?
"I appreciate the concern, you guys, as disturbing as the horse metaphor is," I said, spearing a strawberry with my fork. "But I'd
rather focus on saving Billings. You do realize that if we don't figure out how to raise five million dollars in the next month, life as we
know it is history. We're talking no more Billings, no more Friday night movies and mojitos, no more Fat Phoebe parties, no more
Billings alumni-funded outings... nothing. We'll be living in, like, Pemberly or something."
My friends all exchanged serious glances and I knew that I had, at least for the moment, gotten their attention. For the rest of the
period, we discussed ideas for the fund-raiser and I forced myself not to look over at
the Ketlar table. Not to look at Josh or at Hunter
Braden. I can't say I wasn't intrigued by Hunter's proposal. He was practically a celebrity. But he wasn't Josh. I didn't want anyone
who wasn't Josh. I was still clinging to the hope that Josh might wake up one morning and forgive me. Might realize that I was beyond
drunk that night and that technically I couldn't be held responsible for my actions. Just like I hadn't held him responsible for his ac-
tions with Cheyenne, because he had been drugged. Yes, I had fantasized about being with Dash before it had happened, but Josh
didn't know that. Therefore, he could not hold it against me. He could, however, hold a date with Hunter Braden against me. As we
moved on to the chapel for morning services, I grabbed Rose and pulled her aside just outside the cafeteria doors. We hung back until
all our housemates had strolled on, caught up in their own conversations.
"Everything okay, Reed?" she asked, ducking her head slightly so that her red curls fell forward over her cheeks. Rose was one of
the more discreet girls in Billings and I knew she was intimately aware of how everything worked. At the moment she was the only
person I felt comfortable asking what I had to ask. What I had been wanting to ask all through breakfast. "Just a random question," I
said under my breath. "You know all that stuff we used for the inner-circle ritual--the lantern and the... the marbles and everything?"
"Yeah?" Rose looked surprised. "Where do we keep all that stuff?" I asked. "Is it in the basement somewhere, or..."
Rose blinked. "Actually, I think Cheyenne had all that stuff in her room. Crap, I never even thought of that. It must have gotten