Paradise Lost (Private 9)

"We were?"

"Yes. Noelle?" I said pointedly.

"Right." She got up and grabbed her clutch. "We need to go shopping. Reed was not prepared for the tropics."

"So not prepared," I agreed, rolling my eyes. "Taylor? You're coming, right?"

"Sure. Why not?" Taylor said through a mouthful of tart. "There's nothing to do around here anymore."

Noelle linked arms with Taylor and me as Kiran finished off her drink. "Boys, we'll be seeing you," she said.

"I hope s

o," Upton said, looking right at me.

And even though I was so not playing the Upton Game, I liked to think that he was watching me appreciatively from behind as we strode away.

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CHAPTER 6 ON THE BEACH

That night, when I came down off the high of the day's excitement--the private jet, the natural beauty of the island, meeting Upton, shopping with the girls--I came down hard. I felt as if someone had emptied a vat of concrete over my head and let it harden. Exhaustion set in around nine p.m. and the negative thoughts returned with it. Why hadn't Josh called me? Was my relationship with Noelle ever going to be the same? What about the rest of the Billings Girls--the ones who had voted me out of the house? And would it even matter if Easton closed forever? As these questions crowded my mind, all I could think about was crawling into the cushy bed in the Lange family's guest room and passing out until morning.

Unfortunately, nine p.m. was the exact moment the guests started to arrive at the Langes'. Of course, Noelle had to host the first no-adults-allowed party of the vacation, thereby establishing herself as the female in charge. And I, of course, was so not in the mood.

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I heard Kiran squeal her hellos as she joined the revelers in the great room at the center of the house. Knowing that there was no way Noelle was going to let me go without a fight, I pulled on a sweatshirt and slipped down the hallway, waiting until she went into the kitchen to deal with some sort of snack food snafu. Then I slunk along the wall and out the patio doors, quickly racing down the flagstone steps to the beach.

The moment I walked out onto the sand, my phone beeped, indicating I had a text. My heart jumped into my throat, and I fumbled in my pocket for the phone. There was no doubt in my mind that the text was from Josh. It had to be. He had gone radio silent for far too long. Was Ivy okay? Had she been released from the hospital? Did he have something more to say to me about us?

But the moment I saw the message, the anticipation died. It wasn't from Josh. It was a photo message from Constance Talbot, one of my best friends at Easton. A pic of her and Kiki Rosen taken backstage the night before at this huge pop music fest called Jingle Ball, which Constance's father had some part in promoting. Their tongues were stuck out at the camera, and Chris Daughtry was in the background, looking at them like they were a couple of drunken groupies.

Which they probably were.

The caption read: you wish you were here. I dropped the phone back into my pocket, disappointed. Why hadn't Josh contacted me yet? Didn't he want to talk to me?

I kicked off my flip-flops and stood there, digging my toes into the soft, cool sand. Taking a deep breath, I looked out at the vast,

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seemingly unending ocean. I listened to the crashing of the waves and waited for all the Zen sensory experiences to calm me. Waited for some kind of divine sign that everything was going to be okay.

"It's a bit intense in there, isn't it?"

I jumped at the nearness of the voice. Upton's voice. He had snuck up behind me without a sound.

"Intense?" I asked, turning around to face him. My breath caught at the sight of his utter perfection in a cable-knit white sweater and jeans. A. Mazing.

"Crazy .. . loud . .. packed out," he explained with a smile.

"I guess."

I turned back toward the ocean to prevent myself from drooling on his feet. Also because I had to absorb the fact that he had seen me leave. That he had come after me. That instead of partying with his friends on the first night of vacation, he had chosen to be alone on the beach. With me.

"Anything I can help with?" he asked, stepping up next to me.

"Help? Do I look like I need help?" I asked.