Page 16 of Ambition

sions this weekend, so she set up a problem so that she could fix it. Now she looks like the hero." "It's perfect, really," Missy added as

  Mr. Crandle entered the room, dropping his leather briefcase on his desk. "Diabolical, but perfect." "No. I can't believe she would or-

  chestrate something like this," I said. "I just--" "You're clouded by your friendship," Sabine whispered, leaning toward me. "But I can

  see her for what she really is, and trust me, that girl doesn't care about anyone but herself."

  Before I could respond, she turned and resolutely faced the front of the room, unwilling to hear more. I glanced at Constance, who

  simply shrugged. "Everyone kindly open your books to page one hundred fifteen," Mr. Crandle announced as he started writing an

  equation on the board. "I hope you're all ready to concentrate, because this is going to be an intense day." Tell me about it. I sighed

  and opened my book, trying to put thoughts of Noelle and the fund-raiser out of my mind, but I couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about

  Sabine's last words. That Noelle didn't care about anyone but herself. I was starting to think she might be right.

  * * *

  After classes I walked slowly across the quad, taking my time on my way back to Billings. I thought about stopping for coffee, but

  didn't want to feel more jittery than I already did. I thought about going to the library, but I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on

  studying. Besides, I was supposed to be helping my friends with the fund-raiser. There was no avoiding it. I had to go home.

  But maybe I would just stop for my mail first. And read it all in front of my P.O. box. Even the catalogs. Anything to avoid

  Billings. Avoid the merriment. And, of course, my room. Even though there was a murder investigation going on, Billings had sud-

  denly become the most animated space south of the North Pole. My friends, it seemed, had chosen to ignore the morbid and throw

  themselves into the fund-raiser. To deal with the problem they could actually solve. I should have been happy to see them rushing

  home to put together gift bags and make place cards and schedule makeover appointments. I should have felt gratified that everyone

  was behind my plan. But I wasn't. I was depressed.

  It no longer felt like my plan--it felt like Noelle's. It no longer felt like my night, considering I couldn't even bring the guy I wanted

  to bring. At least I knew that Ivy and Josh wouldn't be attending the event. No one was more anti-Billings than those two, so I couldn't

  imagine either one of them putting up the funds for admission. Luckily, I wouldn't have to watch them canoodling all night. Of course,

  that also meant they'd be back here at Easton, with practically the whole campus to themselves. They could canoodle all over the place

  if they wanted to. Great. Now I was even more depressed. Part of me was actually looking forward to going home for Thanksgiving

  next week. Go figure. I shoved open the post office door and walked over to my mailbox, quickly working the lock. Inside there was

  only one envelope, large, red, and square--with my name and address printed in gold. Intrigued, I tore right into it. The lining of the

  envelope was purple, and the invitation inside was round and black.

  An invitation to Kiran Hayes's eighteenth birthday party. My heart leapt as if I'd just been accepted to Harvard. Kiran remembered

  me. She had actually included me in her plans. I went to shove the invite back in the envelope and noticed a piece of heavy white card

  stock nestled inside. The initials K. H. were stamped at the top. Underneath was a handwritten note from Kiran. Reed, It's been TOO

  long. Please come. Would love to catch up. x's, Kiran

  Okay. So maybe things were finally starting to look up. Grinning from ear to ear, I walked back to the doors. Standing at the

  counter near the exit was Marc, picking up a rather large package. His face lit up when he saw me. Which was nice. "Hey!" he said,

  sliding the box off the counter and wrapping both arms around it in front of him. His fingers barely made it around the sides. "What's

  up?" Nothing. Just picked up my mail," I replied. "That's a big box." "My grandmother. She thinks I'm going to freeze to death up

  here, so every winter she sends me a whole mess of homemade sweaters. She even took a knitting class so she could make them look

  more professional, since I go to school with all those, quote, 'fashion plates.'" God, he was so normal. And sweet, actually appreciating

  his grandmother and all. If I couldn't go to the fund-raiser with Josh, this was the person I wanted to go with. Someone who wouldn't

  spend all night seeking my attention or looking down my dress or getting drunk off his ass and being an embarrassment. And so I just

  said it. "Marc, do you want to be my date for the fund-raiser?" I asked.

  His eyebrows shot up and he readjusted the box, tossing it up to get a better grip near the bottom. "Seriously?" "Seriously." "I'd be

  honored," he replied with a grin. "Escorting the woman of the hour. It would be my extreme pleasure." I laughed. It was nice to hear

  that someone I actually respected thought of me that way. "Thanks. I'll, um... I'll give you all the info tomorrow." I would have e-

  mailed it to him, but I had that whole computer- avoidance issue. "Sounds good," Marc replied, starting past me, awkwardly managing

  the box and his hefty backpack, which had slid down and now hung from his elbow. "Thanks for asking me." "Thanks for saying yes,"

  I replied with a smile. As Marc hobbled out, I felt about ten times better. I was invited to Kiran's party, and I had a date for the fund-

  raiser, with someone I might actually want to talk to, at that. I knew the Billings Girls wouldn't approve--they would have preferred a

  Hunter Braden, even if he was a jackass--but at that moment I didn't care. Maybe it was time for this Billings president to start doing

  things her own way.

  * * *

  When I walked into Billings, Noelle was standing near the fireplace in the foyer with Tiffany and the Twin Cities while Sabine,

  Constance, Kiki, and Astrid pored over a printout of the guest list. Noelle turned and her eyes went right to the invitation, which was

  still clutched in my hand. "Oh, good. You got one. I thought I was going to have to text Kiran and remind her to invite you," she said.

  All the blood in my body rushed right to my head and started to boil. Like I needed her help to land an invite. Like I would be

  nowhere without her. "So, Reed," Noelle continued, as if she hadn't just insulted me, "since the whole night is about glamour, we were

  talking about maybe hiring some models to just circulate around the room and look hot. What do you think of--" Without a word, I

  turned and stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I could practically feel the hushed surprise at my rudeness following me

  all the way up to my room, but I didn't care. I was so sick of Noelle. So sick of her constantly trying to put me in my place. As if she

  could define what my place was. Maybe last year. Maybe last year I had let her do that. But not anymore.

  The door opened behind me and I whirled around, expecting to find Noelle walking in without a knock as always. But it was

  Sabine. A very timid-looking Sabine. "What was that?" she half-whispered. "Are you okay?" "Actually, no. I'm not," I blurted, throw-

  ing my coat down on my bed. "I'm starting to think you're right about Noelle. I mean, I always just figured that her little digs and stuff

  were just part of her personality, and I let them roll off my back or whatever, but now I'm starting to wonder why I need to be friends

  with a person who treats people like that. When does it stop? When do we become good enough friends t
hat she stops wanting to

  make me feel like shit?" I had no idea there was so much venom inside of me until it started spewing out. I took a deep breath and

  looked at the floor. "Maybe you're right. Maybe the only person she cares about is herself."

  "Well, have you ever seen her be consistently nice to any of her friends?" Sabine asked. I thought back to last year. Back to her

  random jabs at Taylor and that whole incident with Kiran and her Dreck boy. She certainly hadn't treated either of those so-called

  BFFs with much respect. But then there was the other. "Ariana," I said bitterly. "She's the only one Noelle never put down." Sabine

  stared at me. I knew the name didn't hold as much power with her as it did with me, but she had heard the story. She knew enough to

  know that Ariana was an interesting choice when it came to showing loyalty. "If one of your friends has you paranoid... constantly

  walking around wondering when she's going to choose to backstab you... then that person isn't much of a friend," Sabine said finally,

  biting her lip. And she had a very good point. Last year I had needed Noelle and the other Billings Girls. Their friendship had seemed

  so important to me--to helping me leave my old life behind and become the person I wanted to be here at Easton. But now I was that

  person. I was Billings president. And all those other girls were gone. Everyone but Noelle. Did I really need her hanging around, con-

  stantly reminding me of how lucky I was to know her?

  Definitely not. The door opened. "Reed, we have to talk," Noelle said. I looked at her. Looked at Sabine. My chest was heaving

  from all my running and ranting. My heart pounded in my ears. What to say? How to handle this? "Do you mind?" Noelle said to

  Sabine. "She can stay," I snapped. "This is her room, not yours. This house is not yours. I may have thought it was once, but I was

  wrong. It doesn't all belong to you. We don't all belong to you." Noelle took a deep breath. She crossed her arms over her chest and

  looked at me. "Okay. So obviously you're pissed off about something." My skin tingled as I faced off with her. I felt like I was about

  to go into battle. Like I was Russell Crowe in that gladiator movie my brother was so obsessed with, standing just outside the gates of

  the Colosseum, listening to the crowd that was salivating for my blood. "Try a lot of things," I replied.

  "You still think I'm trying to take over," Noelle theorized. Sabine quietly moved away and sat down on the edge of her desk chair

  from the side, watching us. "You're not?" Noelle rolled her eyes and tipped her head back. "Reed, we both have the same goal here.

  We're both just trying to save Billings. God, this is more for you than me. You're still going to be here next year. Do you want to

  spend your senior year in Pemberly?" "That's not what this is about. This is about you trying to sabotage me," I replied, crossing my

  arms as well. "Sabotage you?" Noelle's face screwed up in confusion. "What are you smoking?" "Did you or did you not call back

  Cheryl after we left and convince her to say the place was booked? " I demanded, my face hot at my own audacity. Noelle appeared

  shocked. But was she? "What?" "I think you did. I think you knew all along that the St. Sebastian was going to fall through and that's

  why you booked Loft Blanc," I told her. "It's vintage Noelle. Not only do you get your way, but you get to swoop in and look like the

  hero to everyone in the process."

  "You're cracked!" Noelle said sharply. "I would never do something like that." "Oh, wouldn't you?" I shot back. Noelle took a deep

  breath and pushed her hands through her hair, lifting it back from her face. "Okay. Don't get me wrong. There's a lot I'd do to get my

  way, but do you have any idea what a huge waste that would have been? My family may have a lot of money, Reed, but we didn't get

  where we are by burning huge piles of it for no apparent reason." "Yeah. Right." "Look, I only booked Loft Blanc because I've been

  through this before," Noelle told me, lifting a hand. "Two summers ago, my cousin's wedding got canceled the week before the cer-

  emony because the place she booked went under. It was a total nightmare. Ever since then my mother has booked two venues for ev-

  ery important party we've hosted. And I think you know that this is one hell of an important party."

  I stared at Noelle's face. For once her expression was completely without guile. She looked almost desperate. Desperate for me to

  believe her. And, to be honest, I'd never heard her try to explain herself so vehemently in my life. "Swear you didn't book the St. Se-

  bastian," I demanded. Sabine shifted in her seat, and I knew she was annoyed that I was caving, but I ignored her. "Reed, I swear,"

  Noelle said. I tipped my head forward and covered my face with my hands. Crap. I believed her. I so wanted to be all indignant and

  right, but I believed her. "So are we okay?" Noelle asked. "No," I blurted. "No. We're not." Her brow creased as I looked up at her

  again. "Why not?" "You have to stop, Noelle," I said, rounding my shoulders. "You have to stop treating me like I'm some moronic

  little peon to be mocked. I'm not Glass-Licker anymore. I'm the president of this house. And I'm supposed to be your friend. You have

  to stop... picking on me. As lame as that sounds." I expected her to smirk. To say something condescending about how cute I was or

  something. But she merely looked stricken.

  "I'm not going to take it anymore," I told her. "We're either friends... equals... or we're not. So which is it gonna be?" Noelle blew

  out a sigh. She walked past me and sat on the edge of my bed. She looked so confused and displaced. Like she was going through an

  out-of-body experience. Which maybe she was. There was a good chance no one had ever called her on her behavior before.

  "Noelle?" I prompted. "We're friends," she said, looking up at me, her eyes huge. "Equals." "You're sure about that." "Reed, you and

  I... we've been through so much together. Thomas and Ariana and all that crap around the Legacy last year and this thing with Dash..."

  I glanced over at Sabine, who looked at me curiously. Yeah. That was the first time she'd ever heard about any "thing with Dash."

  "Honestly? I would have annihilated anyone else who pulled what you pulled, but I forgave you without a blink. Think about that,"

  Noelle said firmly. "How could you ever doubt that we're friends?"

  My heart expanded so quickly I thought it might fill up my chest and crack my ribs. I had never heard Noelle sound so sincere. So

  vulnerable. I was starting to regret having let Sabine stay. I knew that in the light of day, Noelle was going to hate the fact that anyone

  other than me had seen her like this. "So... why do you treat me the way you do? What's with all the backhanded comments and put-

  downs?" I asked. Noelle stood up again and hugged herself, as if she'd just gotten a chill. "I don't know. Maybe it's because you're

  kind of like the little sister I never had. You're supposed to mess with your little sister, right?" she joked halfheartedly.

  "True," I said, thinking of Scott. "Or in the case of my family, torture them, steal their tooth fairy money, and blame them for ev-

  erything." Noelle chuckled. "I really have to meet your brother sometime." Now that would be interesting. She took a deep breath.

  "But anyway, I'll stop if you want me to stop. Or at least I'll try. I can't guarantee a total personality overhaul." "Thanks." We both

  stood there for a moment awkwardly, not knowing what to do. I felt deflated. Exhausted. All that adrenaline and anger had been

  sucked right out of me so fast I was almost light-headed. "So, should we hug or something?" Noelle suggested finally. "Sure." So we
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  did. And for the first time in a long time, I felt safe. I still had Noelle on my side. I hadn't realized how uncertain the threat of breaking

  free of her had made me feel. If there was anyone at Easton I needed, it was her. The girl who had taken me under her wing. The girl

  who had saved my life. The girl who had convinced me to come back after I'd decided to drop out. I could never let myself forget that

  again.

  BECAUSE OF ME

  The rest of the week passed in a whirlwind of phone calls from florists and caterers and drivers and alumni. There was some insan-

  ity when we discovered that London and Vienna had taken it upon themselves to run with the models - as - moving- art idea and had

  each hired twenty guys--and no girls--by luring them into working for free with the promise of the amazing contacts they could make.

  Luckily we managed to fix the problem in time and hire twenty girls. Somehow in there I managed to write a paper for Spanish and

  ace a history test. Apparently, I was a good multitasker.

  The best part of the whole week was that the stalking had stopped. Maybe Ivy had gotten bored or busy or scared after her trip to

  the police station, but whatever the reason, the whole week passed without another incident. On Wednesday, I went to the administra-

  tion office and changed my e-mail address for the second time, promising myself that I would give this one only to teachers and fam-

  ily. My friends could text my phone if they wanted to--I didn't care. All that mattered to me was never seeing Cheyenne's name in my

  in-box again. As for Dash's e-mail, it was just going to have to go unread. And so what? He was Noelle's boyfriend now. If she was

  going to try to change for me, the least I could do was quit her man cold turkey.

  By the time Saturday morning rolled around and we were all piling our luggage and makeup cases and garment bags outside the

  front door of Billings for our chauffeurs to take to the cars, I was feeling pretty damn good about myself and about the house. I gath-

  ered everyone into the foyer, climbed to the third step of the staircase, and shouted for everyone's attention. They fell silent instantly.

  Fifteen pairs of interested eyes looked up at me, riveted. This was power.

  "I just wanted to thank everyone for all your hard work these past couple of weeks," I announced, gripping the banister. I lifted my

  blue folder, which contained the guest list and all the spreadsheets breaking down received donations and pledged donations. "And al-

  though my father always says, 'Never count a chicken before it's hatched,' I think it's safe to say that with all the money we've already

  made, and all the money we stand to make at Tassos's silent auction tonight, we will more than reach our goal." Everyone cheered and

  hugged and congratulated one another. I watched it all from my perch, feeling like I'd really done it. I'd saved our home. This was all

  because of me. As I watched my friends giddily trail out the door to head for our waiting limousines, I even had a stray thought of

  Cheyenne and how proud she would be. I felt warmed by the idea.

  "Reed! Reed!" Rose jogged back inside with a vase full of white roses. "These were just delivered for you!" Vienna, London, Rose,

  and Noelle all gathered around while I read the card.