Legacy

  Noelle's expression darkened. She looked toward the opposite side of the room. The side of the room that had once belonged to Ariana Osgood. To her best friend. To the girl who had turned out to be a cold-blooded killer. "Gee. I wonder why," Noelle said. For a moment no one spoke, but then Noelle slapped her hands together to clear away the dust. "So. What else is going on around here?" she asked, dumping the contents of her massive cosmetics bag into the top drawer of the desk. "I mean, aside from this Driscoll Dinner thing that Cromwell kept spewing about at our meeting." The Driscoll Alumni Dinner. Right. I had completely forgotten about it in all the drama. The dinner was to be held at the Driscoll Hotel this Saturday, the central event of alumni weekend. Every student had been required to join a committee to help plan or work at the event. Sabine and I were going to be servers. I felt a skitter of nerves down my spine as I wondered for the millionth time if Dash was planning on attending, but I quickly and guiltily banished the thought, as if Noelle could read my mind.

  "Oh my God! We're getting a Coffee Carma!" Vienna announced, bubbling up the mood considerably. "Oh, yeah. Amberly is a freshman this year. I totally forgot. I'll have to go say hi before my mother calls me and starts badgering me to," Noelle said. "Right. You guys know each other," I said. "Oh, so you've met our little Amberly." Noelle was amused. "She gave Reed a Carma Card," London said petulantly. "Not surprising. I've told her all about Billings and you in particular, Reed," Noelle said. "She must be laying the groundwork. Smart girl." Noelle placed a jewelry box on the dresser. "What else?" "Well, you heard about the Legacy, obvi," Portia said, flinging her glossy black hair over her shoulder. "Yeah. That's such a crock," Noelle said, sifting through her makeup. She selected a tube of M.A.C. lip gloss and opened it. "Someone will step up and throw the thing. Believe me, one unfortunate incident will not stop the Legacy."

  "You think?" London asked hopefully. "I know," Noelle replied, whipping open a gold compact mirror and touching up her bottom lip. "Well, just in case, Reed came up with an alternate plan," Tiffany said. "A fabulous alternate plan," Rose added. Noelle raised one eyebrow, her lip gloss wand pausing just millimeters from her top lip. "And what's that? "We're going to throw our own Halloween masquerade!" Vienna exclaimed. "In Cheyenne's honor," Shelby added. I watched Noelle expectantly. Hopefully. I wanted her approval. Even after all this time. "Really?" Noelle continued with her makeup application. "How very industrious of you, Reed. Look at you, taking all the initiative. I'd say, 'You go, girl,' but it's just so passe."

  I smiled and shook my head. That was about right. That was about as much praise as I was ever going to receive from her. But still, it felt good. "And Reed's our new president!" London said, coming over to fling her arm around me. Noelle snapped the compact closed. My chest instantly tightened with dread. The look on her face was unreadable. Anger? Shock? Both? I felt myself backpedaling like mad. I didn't want to step on her toes. She was Noelle Lange. Who was I to be president of Billings if Noelle Lange was here? "Well, well," Noelle said, crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed me. "Glass-Licker's come a long way." "Well, I mean... now that you're back, things are different," I stammered. "Obviously you're the one who should be... I mean, if you'd been here, there's no way I would have been elected." Noelle simply looked at me. Nobody argued my point. Thanks for the support, girls. So much for them thinking I was the patent choice. Although I couldn't really blame them. This was Noelle. Even I knew she should be president. I cleared my throat. If I was going to do this, if I was going to give up the coveted presidency so soon after winning it, I was going to do it with some dignity. Not like a stammering idiot.

  "This place was not the same without you," I said evenly. "It's always felt like your house to me. So if you want the presidency, it's all yours." Everyone looked at Noelle. I tucked my hands into my back pockets and held my breath. Slowly, her lips turned up in a smile. "That's sweet of you, Reed, really, but no thanks." I blinked, stunned. Relieved, but stunned. "What?" Portia blurted, voicing the word bubble hanging above all our heads. Noelle shrugged and tossed the lip gloss back in the drawer. "Look, technically, I shouldn't even be here. I should have graduated last year, but, well, things happen. I'm only here to prove to the Ivies that I want to do the work. That I don't expect special treatment." The incredulity was obvious on my friends' faces. Noelle didn't expect special treatment? She had never known life without it. Even among the most privileged girls in the country, she was privileged. And she never let anyone forget it.

  "You're the future of this place, Reed," Noelle said, turning to face me. "All I want is to make sure that when I do finally leave here, I leave it in good hands. And I couldn't imagine better hands than yours." Whoa. Everyone looked at me, impressed. Now that was praise. Even though the girls of Billings had voted me in, even though the vote had been unanimous, this was true validation. "Thanks, Noelle," I said warmly. "You're welcome." She smiled, an unreadable--maybe teasing?-- glint in her eye. "Madame President."

  JOSH'S MANTRA

  The next morning at breakfast, Josh picked up a coffee cup and slammed it onto his tray. He held a bowl under the cereal dispenser and jammed down on the lever. I heard a crack, and was surprised when the plastic handle didn't break off. When the bowl overflowed with Apple Jacks, he cursed under his breath, grabbed a handful of cereal, and tossed it toward the garbage can behind the counter. Little orange and green Os rained everywhere. I think only one hit the actual can. All around us, students studiously avoided the topic of Cheyenne and her memorial service, and instead buzzed about alumni weekend, coming up at the end of the week. They chatted about what they would wear, about which illustrious graduates might attend, about how best to sneak alcohol out of the Driscoll Hotel on Saturday night. But it was clear that Josh and I would not be participating in such frivolous banter.

  "My woman's intuition is telling me something's bothering you," I joked, trying to lighten his mood. He looked at me like I was the enemy. "I can't believe she's back. How the hell could they let her back in?" I took a deep breath. Noelle. Of course. What else could possibly be bothering him? But I had to remind myself that he had good reason to hate her. She had been all too ready to pin Thomas's murder on him last year, even though she had suspected all along that it had been Ariana. And even if Josh had never been arrested, he would have been totally justified in hating her simply for the role she'd played in his best friend's death. She, Kiran, Taylor, and Ariana had kidnapped Thomas from his room and brought him out to the woods, where they had tied him up and basically left him scared and alone. All to teach him a lesson. All to make him feel as helpless and humiliated as he'd made me feel the evening before at a party in the woods. What they had done was awful, but it had been Ariana who had gone back and murdered him. The others hadn't known of her sadistic jaunt. In my opinion, Noelle and the others had messed up big-time, but they hadn't intended for Thomas to die. They had simply thought they were playing a prank. That was the way I justified it. The only logic that helped me sleep at night.

  "Well, apparently her parents threatened to sue and that was that," I said calmly, adding a bagel to my tray. I pushed up the sleeves of the black V-neck cashmere sweater Noelle had given me--one of many gifts, which included Miu Miu boots, a Tiffany monogrammed lock necklace, and an iPhone--hoping he wouldn't ask me where it had come from. She'd said she was making up for the fact that she'd missed my birthday last year. And Christmas. And something about Flag Day. "Shocker. Gotta love America. They should rename the country Litigation Nation," he grumbled. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose, placing his hands on his hips. "You have to get out of Billings now. With her back, it's going to be just like it was last year."

  "No. It's not," I replied. "Really? How do you figure?" he asked. "Well, for one, I'm in charge," I told him. "They elected me president, remember? Which, by the way, you haven't even congratulated me on." Josh exhaled audibly and gave me a sheepish look. "You're right. I'm sorry. Congratulations. At least they got somethin
g right over there." "Thank you," I said with a nod. It was the highest praise my Billings sisters were going to get from him. "So Noelle is not going to be running things this year. I am." "Yeah, right," Josh said, picking up his tray and turning toward the cafeteria. My face stung. Did he not realize how insulting that was? "Thanks a lot," I said, following after him. Josh looked at me and his expression softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. "He shrugged, gripping his full tray with both hands. "It's just... I know that girl. She's not happy unless she's surrounded by drama and scandal. Come on. Just transfer to Pemberly or something. It's not that big of a deal. And at least it'll get you away from her." "Not that big a deal? I can't just transfer after they elected me!" My skin burned. "And do I have to remind you that Noelle saved my life last year?"

  "No. But it wouldn't have even been in jeopardy if it hadn't been for her and her morally suspect Billings friends," Josh replied. "Why can't you see what a cancer that place is?" "God, Josh. Enough already with the 'death to Billings' riff," I snapped. "That's like your new mantra." He pulled his head back, surprised, and his brow furrowed. "I'm only thinking of you." "Yeah, well, I can handle myself, thanks." I turned and stormed away, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table from where we usually sat. He followed after me slowly and, taking my cue, grabbed a seat with Trey at a separate table. As I rather violently shook up my bottle of orange juice, a couple of girls from the freshman soccer team strolled by with their food.

  "Hi, Reed," one of them said. "Congratulations on the Billings presidency." "Totally. Congrats," the other echoed. "I love your sweater, by the way." "Thanks," I said, completely caught off guard. I'd never spoken to either of these girls before. Didn't even know their names. How had they heard about the Billings vote? "Listen, my dad works for the New England Revolution and he can get us on the sidelines when they play the Galaxy next spring. We're totally going to meet Becks. Wanna come?" the first girl babbled. I blinked. That was a lot of information. And a seriously sick offer--meeting all those pro players. "Um, who could turn down a sideline pass?" I said. "What's your name again?" The girl blushed, but gamely answered, "I'm Ava Greene. And this is Demetria Wallace." "Thanks, Ava," I said. "That's very cool of you." "I'm just so glad you're in!" Ava replied. "Well, see you at practice!" They strode off together, their heads bent close as they gabbed. "Yeah. See ya," I replied to thin air. Okay. That was bizarre. But I guess being president of Billings came with perks I hadn't even thought of.

  I glanced over at Josh as I reached for my bagel, wondering if he'd noticed. He chewed mechanically on a doughnut, staring straight ahead and looking morose. I felt a pang of both sorrow and irritation in my chest. I loved that he cared. I really did. But I was starting to wonder if there was such a thing as caring too much

  * * *

  "Did you know that George Washington didn't want to be president?" Sabine asked me that night. She turned around in her desk chair, all excited, the seashell bangles she always wore clicking together. American history was her antidrug. She was learning it for the first time, coming from a foreign land and all, and each new fact got her all starry-eyed--like the rest of Billings got whenever they heard Stella McCartney was coming out with a new line or that Jake Gyllenhaal was shirtless in some new magazine. It was kind of cool, actually, seeing someone get all fizzy about stuff I'd known since grade school.

  I placed my pencil down on my calculus notebook and flexed my aching fingers. Apparently I'd been gripping the thing too hard. A callus was starting to form on the inside of my middle finger. "Yeah, I do remember that," I said. "He didn't think he was worthy or something, right?" "Kind of like you," Sabine teased I looked down at my pencil-dented fingers. "I think I'm worthy," I lied. "Just that Noelle is more worthy," she said perceptively. My cheeks reddened. "Yeah, well, she's just... Noelle. You'd get it if you knew her." Sabine's face fell and she quickly turned back to her work. "Well, I don't." And thanks for reminding me, her tone said. But how was I supposed to explain it? How was I supposed to convey what it had been like for me last fall? I could hardly define it myself. I had worshipped Noelle. Hated her. Loved her. Feared her. Needed her. There was no way to quantify Noelle's... Noelle-ness. It was something you had to experience for yourself.

  "Sabine, I--" A knock at our door cut me off. We both looked at it, perplexed. No one ever knocked. They just barreled right in, usually with some hair crisis or vital gossip already spewing forth before the door had even slammed shut. "Come in?" I said tentatively. Noelle opened the door and stepped back to allow a distinguished- looking middle-aged woman to step inside. She was wearing a gorgeously cut power suit and a thick gold necklace, and had perfect blond highlights that even Ariana would have died for. In her hands was a large, silver-wrapped gift with a thick, silky red bow. Her smile was warm and genuine, but something about the way she carried herself was all business. Even though she was tiny, her presence somehow filled up the room. I stood up, feeling instinctively that it was the right thing to do. "Ladies, so sorry to interrupt your study session, "the woman said, with a slight Southern accent. "Oh, it's no problem," I answered quickly.

  "Reed Brennan, I'd like you to meet Susan Llewelyn," Noelle said cordially. "Suzel is head of the Billings alumni committee as well as a member of the Easton Academy board of directors." "A pleasure to meet you, Reed," Suzel said, stepping forward to hand me the large, heavy box. "On behalf of the Billings alumni committee, I'd like to congratulate you on your presidency." "Thank you," I said, surprised that news of my presidency had made it to the board of directors. Her formality made me feel flustered and warm--unsure of how to respond--and the box felt big and awkward in my arms. Sabine shifted in her seat and I cleared my throat, tipping my head toward her side of the room as I eyed Noelle pointedly. "Oh, and this is Sabine DuLac," Noelle added flatly.

  My face burned for Sabine. Why was Noelle so very disinterested in my roommate? But Sabine didn't seem to notice the tone. She was focused intently on Suzel. At the beginning of the semester, when Cheyenne had made all of the Billings newbies steal artifacts from around Easton, Sabine had chosen to lift Susan Llewelyn's valedictorian banner from the chapel. Sabine had spent hours researching Suzel in the Easton library and was fascinated by her. "It's an honor to meet you," Sabine said, getting up to shake Suzel's hand. My heart fluttered with nerves. Oh, crap. Should I have shaken her hand? But she had put this huge box right into my arms. Suddenly I wished I had paid attention when Sabine had told me all those little factoids she'd learned about Suzel, just so that I could have an interesting or insightful question to ask. I quickly turned around and placed the box on my desk, knocking over my cup of pens and pencils in the process. I was so mortified I wanted to cry. Noelle pressed her lips together at the huge clatter, but Suzel ignored it.

  "And you," Suzel said politely to Sabine. "One of our newest initiates." Sabine and I glanced at each other. She had, in fact, never been properly initiated. But neither of us was about to mention that debacle. On the night of the annual ritual, Cheyenne had made sure that the girls she had deemed acceptable--Missy, Kiki, and Astrid--had been welcomed to our circle with open arms, while Sabine, Constance, and Lorna had been humiliated and ostracized. The whole thing had been busted up by Headmaster Cromwell; Cheyenne had been expelled and had taken her life that night. No one had spoken about initiation since. "Well, that is for you, obviously," Suzel said, looking at the gift as she folded her hands in front of her. "Open it later, when you are alone," she added firmly.

  I glanced at Sabine, who seemed discomfited by the instruction. "Oh. Okay. Thank you," I stammered. "We all think you're going to be a real asset to the Billings legacy, Reed," Suzel said, her smile broadening as she looked me up and down. Thank goodness I had worn the new, expensive sweater Noelle had given me. "Thank you. I hope I live up to your expectations," I said. There. At least that was a full sentence. "It was so nice to meet you both," Suzel said. "You too," I said. "Will we see you at the alumni dinner on Saturday?" Yes! Another comple
te sentence. Suzel smiled. "Absolutely. I wouldn't miss it," she replied. "I'll see you then." Then she shook both our hands and walked toward the door. Noelle showed her out and, after a few hushed words in the hallway, came back inside. "So that was Suzel, huh?" I asked. Aside from Sabine stealing Suzel's chapel banner, I hadn't heard Susan Llewelyn's name since last year, when she had wrangled a way for all of us to get off campus for a spa day. Us being myself, Noelle, Ariana, Kiran, Taylor, and Natasha. It seemed a million years ago.

  "That was Suzel," Noelle said with a smile. "Well? Come on, Reed. Open your gift!" Sabine urged me, eyeing the package hungrily. "Oh, yeah!" I said. I turned to pickup the box. "Reed, no," Noelle said, placing her hand on top of the package. "What? Why not?" I asked. "You heard Suzel. You're supposed to open it when you're alone," she said, pointedly looking at Sabine. Sabine turned positively ashen. And why not? It seemed obvious that Noelle knew what was in the box. And soon I would know what was in the box. Noelle was basically saying Sabine was the only one in the room unworthy of knowing. "Well, yeah, but--" "Reed, you're president of Billings House. You have to take these things seriously," Noelle said sternly.