Vanished

  “Ow! Lorna! You stepped on my foot!” Amberly whined. “Ow! Owwww! Astrid! Stop! You’re smacking me in the back of the head with your brush.”

  “Sorry, love,” Astrid said. She turned around too quickly and elbowed Amberly in the eye.

  “Ow! Crap! Crappity crap crap!” Amberly blurted, doubling over.

  “Oh my God, Amberly! Are you okay?” I asked, jumping up from my desk chair. Not that it was easy to do, what with the crowd of Billings Girls milling around in my tiny single room. I shoved by Portia, got a mouthful of hair spray as I ducked by Vienna, and cornered Amberly near the door, where she clutched her hand over her right eye, bent at the waist. Normally, Amberly wasn’t my favorite person, but she was one of us now—a true Billings Girl, and I had started to see her as a kind of annoying, precocious little sister. Also, that jab had looked pretty bad.

  “No, I’m not okay!” she groused, pushing her blond mane back from her pretty, elfin face. “I miss Billings! Do you remember how big the rooms were? We could have all fit in Noelle’s room with our dates. And taken group pictures! And had champagne!”

  Around me, the other Billings girls sighed nostalgically.

  “This is pathetic,” Amberly said, throwing up a hand. “And now I have a black eye.”

  “Here. Let me see.” I tugged her hand away from her eye and she blinked a few times. “It’s not black. It’s just watery and … slightly pink,” I told her. “Hey. It matches your dress.”

  “You think?” Amberly asked, looking down at her dark pink silk frock. There wasn’t much she loved more than matching her accessories to her clothes.

  I laughed. “You’re gonna be fine.”

  “Knock, knock!” Trey Prescott stuck his head into my room. Just opening the door slightly, he practically flattened me and Amberly against the wall. “Damn. It’s like a sardine can in here. Fine sardines, don’t get me wrong. But still.” He found Astrid in the center of the mayhem and smiled. “You ready, baby?”

  “I’m always ready!” Astrid said, grabbing her sequined clutch. She had to raise her arms over her head and turn sideways to get through the bevy of girls and out the door. The multilayered taffeta and netting on the skirt of her black dress snagged on the beads lining Portia’s mini, but she twirled once and broke free. “Ta, ladies!” she sang.

  “Hey, Amberly. Hunter’s out here too,” Trey said.

  “Yeeee!” Amberly whirled around to double-check her eyes in the full-length mirror.

  “Wait. You’re going to the dance with Hunter Braden?” I asked her, a sour taste rising up in the back of my throat. Hunter and I had gone on exactly one seriously awful date last fall, an experience I didn’t exactly relish for Amberly.

  “Uh, yeah? The hottest guy in school asks you to the Valentine’s Day dance, you say yes,” Amberly replied.

  I rolled my eyes and patted her on the back as I practically shoved her out the door. “Good luck with that one.”

  She didn’t even seem to hear me as she joined him in the hallway and he helped her on with her coat. That was Hunter for you. A consummate gentleman. For five minutes. When that space of time had passed, all bets were off. I knew from experience.

  “Well, at least there’s more room in here, now,” I said, returning to the makeup mirror on my desk.

  “Hey, Reed, is this your brother?” Lorna asked, picking up a framed family portrait from atop my dresser. “He’s hot.”

  “Yeah. And unfortunately, he knows it,” I replied, reaching for a red lip gloss that looked like it would match my dress.

  “You don’t want that one. It’s got orange undertones,” Ivy said, grabbing it out of my hand. “It’ll clash.”

  My stomach turned and I avoided her gaze. She had to be here because all the BLS members had decided to come over, but I still had a feeling she had something to do with Noelle’s disappearance. Just being around her was making my skin prickle.

  “Here. Try this.”

  She handed me her own lip gloss with a smile.

  “No, thanks,” I said, tossing it back to her. “I think I’ll just go neutral.”

  Ivy eyed me for a second, as if she sensed something was up, but then shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “Your dad is cute too. For an old guy,” Lorna said. She looked at me over the top of the photograph. “But you guys look nothing alike.”

  “Everyone always says that,” I replied. “I look like my mom and Scott looks like my dad.”

  “Which is probably a good thing,” Kiki joked, leaning over my shoulder to fluff her hair in my mirror. “Otherwise you’d have a five o’clock shadow and he’d have those delicate cheekbones of yours,” she said, giving my cheek a pinch.

  “Hey, Ivy! You in here?” Gage shoved open the door, slamming it into Vienna’s foot. She fell against the side of my dresser, grabbed her injured toes, and let out a string of curses worthy of a backstage Kanye outburst.

  “Dude. Watch where you’re standing,” Gage said.

  “You suck, Gage Coolidge,” Vienna said, hopping over to my bed to check for bleeding. Her dark gray strapless dress barely restrained her breasts, and for a second there, I was sure one or both was going to pop out. Which, of course, Gage would have loved.

  “Only on certain body parts,” he replied, giving her a lecherous glance.

  “Ew!” Portia, Rose, and Tiffany exclaimed as one.

  “Ah, my date. I couldn’t be more proud,” Ivy said. She dropped her lip gloss back in her purse and joined Gage at the door. “See you guys there!”

  Portia rolled her eyes as the door slammed behind them. “If those two were any more off-again-on-again they’d be a light switch.”

  A few of the girls giggled, but I felt a knot growing in my chest. Were Ivy and Gage really back together, or was he just a beard for her real man—Tattoo Guy? Or maybe Tattoo Guy wasn’t a boyfriend at all. Maybe he was only in Ivy’s life to help her wreak havoc on mine and Noelle’s.

  I turned back to my reflection and reached for my original lip gloss again, trying not to think about it. Tonight was supposed to be fun. Romantic. It was supposed to be about me and Josh. If only I could manage to stop obsessing about Noelle’s kidnapping and my ability to save her for more than five minutes.

  There was another knock at the door. One by one, all the hottest guys of Easton showed up to squire my friends off to the dance. Weston Bright was Tiffany’s date, Jason Darlington came for Vienna, Dominic Infante picked up Portia, and Marc Alberro, much to my delight, arrived for Kiki. Finally, Carson Levere, who was a year younger than us, but smart and insanely cute, showed up clutching a dozen red roses to claim Lorna, and Rose and I were left alone.

  As Lorna closed the door behind her, I felt a thump of foreboding. Maybe Josh wasn’t coming for me after all.

  “Is Damon coming up here?” I asked.

  “Nah. New Hathaway rule. Apparently since he’s an off-campus date, he’s not allowed inside the dorms, so I told him I’d just meet him at the hotel,” Rose said, perching on the edge of my bed. “But I’ll wait for Josh with you.”

  Might be a long wait, I thought, glancing at my phone. It was already 8:15. Not hugely late. Unless you lived a thirty-second walk away from your date, of course. But the last shuttle over to the Driscoll Hotel in Easton was supposed to leave at eight thirty. What if he didn’t get here in time? Or at all?

  Then, just like that, there was a knock at the door. Both Rose and I stood, and I smoothed the skirt of my red satin dress.

  “Come in!”

  Josh opened the door with a smile. “Sorry I’m late. Would you believe some freshman outside asked me to tie his tie for him?”

  Rose and I laughed and Josh produced a single red rose from behind his back. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  “I think I’ll leave you two alone,” Rose said, reaching for her coat, which was folded at the end of my bed. “See you there!”

  I smiled and twiddled my fingers at her as she slipped out. Josh wrapped his arm
s around me and gave me a long kiss on the lips. “I hate that we’ve been fighting,” he said.

  “Me too,” I replied, letting out a sigh of relief. “Let’s not do that anymore.”

  “Deal,” Josh replied. “Tonight is not about suspects or intrigue or kidnappers. Tonight is about you.” He gave me a kiss on one shoulder. “And me.” He kissed the other shoulder. “And the dance.” Then he kissed me, once more, on the lips.

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel like going anywhere. I just wanted to stay right there in my room all night, with him. But I knew we had to at least make an appearance at the dance. Otherwise everyone would freak out, wondering where we were. Besides, I wanted to congratulate Constance on what I was sure would be a job well done.

  “Come on,” I said, taking Josh’s hand. “Let’s get this dance thing over with so we can come back here and make out.”

  He laughed. “I like the way you think.”

  We walked out of the room together. As I reached back to close the door, I caught a glimpse of my phone, sitting on my desk. My heart skipped a tense beat. I couldn’t believe I’d almost forgotten my lifeline to Noelle.

  “Hang on a sec,” I said.

  Leaving Josh in the hall, I went back inside and grabbed the phone. As I picked it up, it let out a loud beep. My pulse skidded to a stop. I had a text. Quickly, I opened the message. It read, simply:

  YOUR FINAL ASSIGNMENT: BREAK UP WITH JOSH HOLLIS. IN PUBLIC.

  Constance had done an amazing job. As Josh and I danced, holding each other close at the center of the gleaming hardwood dance floor, I looked around the Driscoll Hotel ballroom, taking it all in. Solidifying in my mind the details of what was bound to be one of the worst nights of my life.

  The ballroom had been turned into an otherworldly tunnel of love. Deep red and purple hearts covered every possible surface, in all imaginable textures. There were sequined hearts, fur hearts, lace hearts, silky hearts. Hearts made out of paper and netting and beads and dried flowers. The ceiling was home to thousands of dark red balloons and the DJ’s glass booth had been filled with millions of candy hearts. Waiters and waitresses circled the room with heart-shaped trays full of chocolate-covered strawberries, pink-frosted cupcakes, and Shirley Temple drinks. Everywhere I looked, couples danced close together, touching noses, touching lips, touching everywhere.

  It was all a cruel joke.

  “Hey. Is everything okay?” Josh said in my ear.

  I flinched, startled, and pulled back to look at him. We were surrounded by our coupled-off friends. Skirts swished, ties were loosened. Everyone was having a romantic good time.

  “Everything’s fine. Why?” I asked, my voice thick.

  “You’re kind of clutching my neck,” Josh said, tilting his head.

  I removed my hand and looked at my palm, resting my forearm on his shoulder. My fingers were red, and my palm was clammy. Guess that’s what happens when you’re trying to cling to something you have to let go of.

  Josh looked down at me quizzically. My heart seemed to pound from inside my stomach. Even though it was cool in the cavernous room, sweat prickled the back of my neck. I looked around at the smiling faces of my friends—Tiffany cracking up over something Kiki had just said, Portia looking hopefully up at Dominic as they danced, Constance over in the corner with Walt Whittaker at her side, nodding and grinning as Headmaster Hathaway congratulated her. It was so unfair. Everyone was so happy and carefree and here I was, hiding yet another deep, dark secret, being forced to give up the one person who made me feel safe and loved. The one person I could trust.

  I looked up into Josh’s incredible green eyes. This was going to be the hardest thing I ever had to do. Once again I had to wonder what these kidnappers were thinking. Why weren’t they out there trying to extort millions from Noelle’s parents? Why, instead, did they choose to torture me?

  Because this was personal. That was the only explanation. This was not about money. This was about me and Noelle. About punishing us. It was the only explanation.

  Just do it, Reed! A little voice in my head shouted—a voice that sounded a lot like Noelle’s. Just do it and get it over with.

  I swallowed hard and took a step back. Cold air rushed between us like a wall of ice.

  “Actually, everything’s not okay,” I said loudly. They had, after all, said I was to do this in public. It wouldn’t be very public if no one noticed.

  Josh blinked, understandably confused. One second I’m clinging to him so tightly I’m leaving finger marks in his skin. The next I’m backing away and unnecessarily shouting.

  “What is it?” he said, his voice considerably softer than mine. He closed the gap between us and reached for my hand. “Is it Noelle?” he asked. “Have you heard something?”

  Tears stung my eyes. He was so caring. So unselfish. We’d promised this night would not be about the Noelle drama, but here he was, bringing it up, just because he thought it was upsetting me.

  “No,” I said, yanking my hand away. “It’s not that. I … Josh, listen. I’m sorry,” I said, raising my voice again. “I’m sorry to do this on Valentine’s Day, but it’s over.”

  All the color washed right out of Josh’s face, but he still eyed me dubiously. A few people around us stopped dancing. The whispers began, starting in the center of the room and whooshing out to all corners, like ripples in otherwise calm waters.

  “You’re joking, right? This is some kind of prank.” He looked around as if waiting for a clown to step out and hit him in the face with a whipped cream pie.

  “No,” I said. “No, I’m not.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked with a strained smile. “You can’t—”

  “I’m talking about us,” I interrupted. “We’re over.”

  The smile dropped away and his face started to grow red. All I wanted to do was grab him and tell him he was right. It was a prank. That it was all going to be fine. I couldn’t bear that I was doing this to him.

  “What?” Josh blurted.

  Tiffany and West backed up a little, giving us space, as if they thought Josh was going to wrestle me to the ground.

  “I can’t … I just can’t be with you anymore,” I said.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw someone approaching. I was so surprised to see someone moving toward us rather than away, I must have flinched, because Josh turned around to see what I was looking at. It was Sawyer. He had just emerged from the crowd, and he couldn’t have picked a worse moment. The second Josh saw him he let out a strangled sort of laugh.

  “Is this about him?” he asked, his jaw set as he turned to face me again.

  “What?” I said, my voice cracking. “No. Sawyer and I are just—”

  “Then is it that Upton guy?” Josh demanded. “I saw that note he sent you. Does he always go around calling other guys’ girlfriends ‘beautiful’ and signing his letters ‘love’?”

  Actually, yeah, he kind of does, I thought automatically. And how the hell had Josh seen that note? But then my brain remembered I was in kind of an end-of-my-world drama here.

  “Josh, I’m sorry. I just—”

  “I can’t believe this,” Josh said, glancing around wildly, as if he couldn’t even look at me for a second longer. He pushed both hands into his hair, holding it back with his palms to his temples, as if he were trying to keep his brain from exploding. “You’re not really doing this.”

  He dropped his hands again and looked at me imploringly. I said nothing. I couldn’t. There was nothing in me to say. Then he blinked and for a split second my heart caught. He knew! It was right there in his eyes. He knew why I was doing this. He knew it was all a ruse. He knew the kidnappers had set me up.

  But then he covered his face for a moment and when he looked at me again, his face was red and he was fuming. I realized with a sinking sensation that I had just imagined it. Wishful thinking.

  “You’d better be really sure about this, Reed,” Josh snapped. “Because if this is it, this is really
it. You do this right now and I’m done. For good.”

  My hands were shaking. My knees quivered beneath me. Every cell in my body cried out for me to take it back. To step into his arms. To let him hold me. I loved him so much, my body was physically revolting against my words. I felt like I was going to throw up, crumble, pass out, die.

  But then I saw Noelle in my mind’s eye. Panicked. Bleeding. Possibly even dying. This was just a breakup, but she really could die. If I didn’t do this, they would kill her.

  “Is this what you really want?” Josh demanded.

  I looked around at the crowd. It seemed as if the entire school was watching. If the kidnappers wanted public, they were certainly getting public. I saw my friends huddled together—Tiffany, Portia, Rose, Vienna, Kiki, Lorna, Astrid, and Amberly—all of them watching us, gaping, baffled. Only Ivy was alone, off to the side, her expression completely unreadable.

  Is this what you wanted? I thought, glaring at her. Well, I hope you’re enjoying the show.

  I wanted to storm over there, grab her by the hair, and wrest her to the floor. I wanted to make her tell me what she knew. Make her suffer the way Josh and I were both suffering right now. But I was not going to give her the satisfaction of cracking.

  Still, I swore to myself at that moment that if she did turn out to be the kidnapper, I was going to make her pay for this. Big-time.

  “Yes,” I said firmly, looking Josh in the eye. “This is what I really want.”

  Josh’s face was slack. He was nothing but a gray, sagging mask of his former self. After everything I’d put him through, that crap with Dash, the shooting, everything, this was clearly the worst thing I could have done.

  I expected him to scream at me one last time. To tell me off. To call me a whore or a bitch or a psycho. Any one of these things would have actually made me feel better.

  But instead he simply turned around and walked away.

  Right, so, where the hell was Noelle? I’d done everything these jackasses had asked of me. Four assignments set, four assignments complete. Didn’t that mean I’d won? Didn’t that mean I was supposed to get some kind of information on Noelle’s whereabouts? I’d been up all night, sitting straight up on my bed with my phone in my lap, waiting. Waiting for the information on how to save my friend. I’d even changed into jeans and boots and a black sweater, packed an overnight bag, and charged my phone, primed and ready for a trek through the snow or a train trip to Boston or a flight to Siberia. But nothing had come. It was all silence. All night long.