Ambition

have such an enemy on campus? What had I done to deserve this?

  I paused outside the door and leaned back against it. What if it was someone inside Billings? What if it was more than one person?

  What if everyone knew what was going on and they were all laughing at me behind my back. What if- No. Stop. This was my dorm. I

  was not going to be intimidated. I was not going to be afraid to walk through the door. These were my friends. They wouldn't do this

  to me. And whatever my mystery stalker wanted to throw at me next, I would just deal with it. Like I'd dealt with Cromwell. I'd deal

  with it like I knew I could. And whoever was doing this to me would be sorry. Taking a deep breath, I turned around and strode inside.

  * * *

  Everyone was gathered in the parlor. For a fleeting moment I considered just going in there and asking if any of them was behind

  the black marbles and the clothing, and maybe even how that picture of Cheyenne and me had made it out of my desk drawer and onto

  my bulletin board a few weeks back--which I was starting to think was part of all this. Or if any of them was helping someone on the

  outside. Just call them out. But then I realized that revealing what was going on to the general Billings population would be a mistake.

  It would make me look weak. It would bring up questions about why I was the only one being targeted. I would have to tell them

  about the e-mail. About my guilt. And I was not about to do that.

  No, I was just going to have to figure this out on my own. Once the fund raiser was over. Once everything started to normalize

  again. Then I would deal with my tormentor. Decision made, I walked over to the parlor door and instantly my blood started to boil.

  Noelle was standing in front of the fireplace, addressing a rapt audience of Billings Girls. Clearly, this was a formal meeting and clear-

  ly, Noelle was in charge. "So if your parents want to fly in anyone from the West Coast, let me know by Friday. Daddy's going to let

  us use his jet for one cross- continental run, so we'll need to make sure everyone knows where to be and when," Noelle was saying. A

  few people made a note of this and Noelle glanced at the next item on her agenda. She had an agenda. "Okay, now--" "What's going

  on?" I said loudly, announcing my presence to the room. Everyone turned around. My irritation must have been evident, because

  many of them looked quickly, guiltily away.

  "Reed! Good. There you are. We were just going over some of the details for the fund-raiser," Noelle said, unfazed. "I went to

  Cromwell about the off-campus passes and he said four is the limit, so we're back to the original plan." She turned to Sabine and

  shrugged. "Sorry, Frenchie. You're out." Sabine's face fell, which made me want to scream. Or hit something. Possibly Noelle. "Actu-

  ally, I just talked to Cromwell and secured the extra pass," I said pointedly, my skin burning with barely suppressed ire. "So Sabine,

  you're still in." Everyone looked from me to Noelle, as if we were volleying in a tennis match. Noelle's lips screwed up in something

  that vaguely resembled a smile. "Well. I guess your powers of persuasion are improving." All the faces swiveled to me. "Yeah. I guess

  they are," I replied. Silence. I had silenced Noelle. Cool. I walked into the room, dropping my bag and coat on the window seat, and

  joined Noelle up front. "So, has anyone had any new ideas about the theme?" I asked.

  Everyone looked at everyone else. There was so much tension in the room, I was surprised any of us could breathe. "Reed, can I

  talk to you for a second?" Noelle said through her teeth, but maintaining a sunny tone. "Alone?" "Sure," I replied, just as sunnily.

  "Why don't you guys brainstorm while we're gone? Constance, would you take notes?" As Noelle followed me out of the room, I

  knew there would be no talk of the fund-raiser. All they were going to talk about was me and Noelle, and take bets on who might

  throw the first bitch slap.

  THE TRUTH

  I led Noelle right into my room and whirled on her the moment she closed the door behind us. I was so full of pent-up emotion that

  I was able to shove my fear of being there all the way to the back of my mind. "What the hell was that? You're calling meetings be-

  hind my back now?" I demanded. God, it felt good to yell. It felt like all the confusion and stress were pouring right out of me. "This

  is not about the fund-raiser. Screw the fund-raiser," Noelle replied, stepping toward me. "This is about Cheyenne." Instantly, my bal-

  looned-up ego deflated to nothing. Determination, gone. Anger, gone. I glanced at my closed closet door. "What about Cheyenne?" I

  asked quietly. "I'm only going to ask you this once, Reed," Noelle said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did you have anything to

  do with Cheyenne's death?" My heart dropped through my body so quickly I felt faint. "What?" I breathed.

  "I need to know the truth. I'm not going to go through what I went through last year," Noelle said coolly. "Not again." I turned

  away from her accusing eyes, my mind reeling. I couldn't focus on anything, and the details of my room seemed to circle in front of

  me. The window, the desk, the photo of me and Scott, my bedspread, my lamp, the window, the desk--everything swirled. "You can't

  really think... you can't really think that I could do something like that." "That's not an answer, Reed. I know you were the one the po-

  lice brought in for questioning. Don't even try to deny it," she said. "So what the hell was that all about?" "It was nothing," I lied. My

  back was to her and I started to empty my bag just to give myself something to do. Give me an excuse not to look her in the eye. "It

  was just... they never interviewed me after Cheyenne was found. I left campus with Josh and they questioned everyone else in the

  dorm, but they never questioned me. They just wanted to make sure they had everyone's accounts of what happened. You know, for

  the file." "And that was it," Noelle said, sounding unconvinced. "They didn't say anything about Cheyenne being murdered. Didn't ask

  if you had anything to do with it."

  Her doubtful tone caused something to snap inside of me, and I turned around. "How could you think--" "Allow me to quote from

  an e-mail you sent to a certain someone we both know," she replied, as still as stone. "'Cheyenne has lost it. We need to find a way to

  get rid of her. I need your help.' Now what was that all about? "

  Holy. Holy. Crap. Had Noelle just quoted to me from one of my e-mails to Dash? That was it. I could no longer stand. I fell back

  onto the edge of my bed and put my head between my knees, fighting for breath. The past few months flashed before my eyes. E-

  mails with Dash. Phone calls. His desperation that night at the Driscoll dinner. The longing in his brown eyes as he pulled me to him

  at the Legacy. Was it all lies? One big game? Had he told Noelle everything? Had he been betraying me at every turn? "How did

  you... ?" I lifted my head. Noelle's expression was a mask of disgust. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting an extreme head rush

  pass. "You know about... you know I e-mailed Dash?" Suddenly I no longer cared about Noelle's power-tripping. All I cared about

  was making it up to her. Explaining it to her. Keeping her from hating me.

  Noelle scoffed, looking up at the ceiling like she just couldn't figure out what to do with me. "Reed, try to remember who you're

  talking to. I read every last one of your pathetic e-mails and every one of his," Noelle replied. "Dash and I have no secrets. Even when

  we're broken up, I know his every move. This isn't just some high school crush. Dash and I are meant to be together. One little

  breakup is not going
to derail that. And you"--she paused to laugh derisively--"you, Glass-Licker, are certainly not going to derail

  that." "So... what? He showed them to you?" I said, finding some indignation toward Dash in the midst of all my mind-bending panic.

  Did she know about the Legacy? Did she know?

  "Please. No. I've known his password since freshman year. He never changes it," she replied. "So while we were apart, I kept an

  eye on him. Had to make sure my man was staying out of trouble." Wow. I knew the girl liked to have her control, but wasn't spying

  on her ex-boyfriend's e-mails going a little far over the line into complete paranoia? Although, in this case she'd had every reason to be

  paranoid. "So, yes. I know all about your little flirtation," she told me with a superior glint in her eye. "You should know by now,

  Reed, that you can't keep secrets from me." "Noelle, it didn't mean anything," I told her quickly, standing. "It was just stupid and--"

  Noelle laughed merrily. "Please. I'm not worried about you and Dash flirting on your computers like some pathetic fourth-graders.

  Could you be any lamer?" My face burned as if I'd just been slapped. "He just missed me and you were a distraction. I know neither of

  you would ever have the balls to actually do anything," she added. "Neither one of you is that stupid."

  Implication? If we had "done something," she would have made us pay. So she didn't know every move he made. She didn't know

  what had happened at the Legacy. As relief flooded through me, so did an intense desire to tell her everything we had done--to wipe

  that superior certainty off her condescending face and show her that she did not know everything. But I bit my tongue. Even in all the

  trauma of the moment, my self-preservation instinct kicked in. Leave well enough alone. "Let's get back to the point," Noelle directed,

  walking over to my desk. She picked up my plastic box of paper clips and toyed with it, dumping the contents back and forth slowly,

  like a rattle. "You wanted to get rid of Cheyenne, so tell me... what did you do?" "I wanted to get her expelled, not killed," I replied,

  turning my palms out at my sides. "She was out of control... treating the new girls like dirt... trying to get them thrown out of school. I

  was actually e-mailing Dash to see if he could get in touch with you for help. Since you--"

  I paused, not wanting to dredge up any more unpleasant memories. Noelle's brown eyes lit with understanding. "Since I got Leanne

  expelled last year," Noelle finished, placing the box down again. "That was really more Ariana's thing." "I know, but Noelle..." I

  gazed at her, on the verge of desperate tears. "Honestly, did you really think I could ever kill someone? I mean, you know me." She

  glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "I knew Ariana too," she said. "Or so I thought. I'm not making that blind-trust mistake

  again." Okay. She had a point. But it wasn't fair that Ariana's insanity should prejudice Noelle against me. I hadn't done anything

  wrong. Well, not anything that could get me arrested, anyway.

  "Cheyenne and I were not getting along toward the end. Everyone knows this," I told her. "But I had nothing to do with her death. I

  mean, just look at it logically. The girl was out. She was expelled. I was never going to have to see her again. Why would I kill her? "

  Noelle turned to face me fully and studied my face for a long moment. I couldn't believe she was still doubting me. Me. Her best

  friend. "Noelle, please. You have to believe me," I said, my voice cracking. "I can't lose you, too." Finally, Noelle rolled her eyes and

  gave me a genuine smile. "Aw, Glass-Licker, you're such a sap," she said, tilting her head to the side. "Could you please stop calling

  me Glass-Licker?" I asked, grasping at levity. "No," she replied. "You flirted with my boyfriend. I get to call you whatever I want for

  as long as I want."

  Right. I guess I couldn't argue with that. "But we're okay?" I asked uncertainly. "We're okay," she replied. "Let's go back down-

  stairs before those girls decide on a slumber party theme without our direction." "Good idea." She walked ahead of me out of my

  room and I paused for a moment to collect myself. My heart was racing, my mind felt numb, and there was a cool sheen of sweat all

  over my skin. The only question in my mind right then was how long we would be okay. How long could a person like Noelle Lange

  be kept in the dark about what really happened at the Legacy? And how long would I survive if she ever found out?

  THANK NOELLE

  I had to focus on the task at hand. Focus. Not on Josh, not on Noelle, not on the Cheyenne investigation. On the fund-raiser. Focus

  on the fund-raiser. It was about all I could do to keep myself sane. So after English lit class on Tuesday, Sabine and I speed-walked to

  lunch to go over our short list of theme ideas, which we had narrowed down at the meeting the night before. By the end of the day I

  was going to make a decision. By the end of the day something was going to be set in stone.

  We grabbed sandwiches and bottled water and got to our table before any of the other Billings Girls arrived. In fact, the place was

  as still as the library. Only a few of the faculty and some of the foreign exchange students--who always seemed to arrive early to ev-

  erything-- were present, and their conversations were whispered, hushed. "I think 'indulgence' is a perfect theme," Sabine whispered

  as we sat down. "All those ideas London had about serving only sweets and champagne and having private massage rooms and cash-

  mere blankets on every seat as favors--it sounded divine." "I like it too, but it might be too expensive to pull off. It'll all depend on

  whether or not the Twin Cities can really get all that stuff for free or at cost," I replied, opening my notebook to the theme list. "What

  about the green theme? The environment is so trendy right now and we--" "Ladies! I've got it!"

  I stopped talking as the door to the dining hall flew open and Noelle made her announcement. She strode over to our table, her

  cheeks flushed from the cold, tugging her camel-colored suede gloves from her fingers. Tiffany, London, Vienna, Portia, and Shelby

  were at her heels, looking like very excited ladies-in-waiting. "You've got what?" I asked, looking up at Noelle as she paused at the

  end of the table. "The most perfect fund-raiser idea ever!" She shrugged her thick hair off her shoulders and spread her fingers wide.

  "We are going to make so much money for this school, the Crom will not only leave Billings alone, he'll bow down to us for the rest

  of our scholastic lives." I glanced warily at Sabine, whose expression had turned hard and cold. No surprise there. I was sure she saw

  this as yet another attempt by Noelle to seize control of Billings. But even if I did feel a twinge of foreboding myself, I had to ignore

  it. I owed Noelle that much, after last night's conversation. Besides, I was kind of psyched to hear about this plan of hers. In my expe-

  rience Noelle's plans were generally fabulous. "Don't keep us in suspense," I prompted.

  "Right. So we have the big, extravagant dinner for the per-plate donation we talked about, but we also offer a special platinum tick-

  et," Noelle said, pulling a chair over to sit at the head of the table. "And what do they get with a platinum ticket?" I asked. "Patience,

  Reed. I was getting to that," Noelle said with a condescending smile. "Anyone buying a platinum ticket will be invited to a salon earli-

  er in the day to be styled by the one and only Frederica Falk, stylist to the stars." London and Vienna clasped hands and squealed at

  the sound of the name. Like Noelle had just announced that Brad Pitt was going to be teaching their afternoon art histor
y class. "And

  photographed by Tassos, world-renowned fashion photographer," Tiffany added, grinning. "Really? That's amazing," I said. I had

  never heard of Frederica Falk, but all the other girls seemed beside themselves at the mention of her name. And I knew from the rever-

  ent way the Billings Girls talked about Tiffany's father, Tassos, that landing a shoot with him was one of the most sought-after prizes

  of the rich and famous. We could make a killing with this.

  "And Dad has offered to donate a whole slew of his old photos and cameras and equipment so that we can auction them off at the

  dinner," Tiffany added, dropping into the chair next to mine. She whipped her heather gray scarf off and opened her coat. "He can't

  wait. Said the studios are long overdue for a purging." "Are you sure he's okay with this?" I asked, turning to her. "I know he's usually

  pretty busy." "Yeah, but he knows how much Billings means to me, so he's going to clear his weekend," Tiffany said with a shrug of

  her slim shoulders. "He even said he'll donate all the film and developing, so his involvement won't cost us a thing." "Wow. This is

  amazing," I said, dollar signs floating through my head. "Frederica's donating her time too," Noelle added as the other girls took off

  their coats and slung them over various chairs with their bags. "Kiran had major dirt on the woman, so it wasn't exactly difficult to

  convince her to go along." "Wait a minute. Kiran's involved? You talked to her?" I asked, nearly breathless at the thought. Kiran

  Hayes had been one of my best friends last year before the whole Thomas scandal went down, and I hadn't heard from her since. Sud-

  denly I was practically salivating for news. "How is she?"

  "She's fine. She's Kiran," Noelle said with a blase wave of her hand. "Living with some male model on the Left Bank... planning

  some psychotic birthday bash for herself in Amsterdam or something. The usual." My friends chuckled knowingly, but I couldn't be-

  lieve that was all I was getting. The girl had dropped off the face of the earth, except for the occasional appearance in a perfume ad or

  magazine spread. Had she finished school? Did she care? Was she still drinking like a fiend, or had she gotten her crap together? Info,

  please! "Anyway, Frederica is going to bring along five assistants to make sure everything runs smoothly, and since she owns her own

  makeup line, supplies won't be a problem," Noelle said, shrugging out of her cashmere coat. "This is going to be the event of the sea-

  son." "Try the year," Portia corrected. "I don't know what to say, you guys," I told them, feeling awed by their abilities, their connec-

  tions. "This is going to be incredible." "Well, thank Noelle," Shelby said, tucking her iPhone away and shaking her blond hair back.

  "It was all her idea." I glanced at Sabine again. She could have incinerated the entire dining hall with the fire in her eyes.

  "Come on. I'm starved," Portia said, grabbing a potato chip off my plate. "Let's motor." As Noelle, Tiffany, Portia, Shelby, and the

  Twin Cities scurried off to secure their lunches, I found myself alone with Sabine--and I didn't relish it. I had a feeling I was in for an-

  other overly concerned lecture. " Please don't tell me you think Noelle is trying to oust me again," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.