Ivy looked up at me through her long lashes. “What? That makes no sense.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. That’s what she said,” I replied, rummaging through my closet for a pair of sneakers. I wondered if she’d noticed that I’d yet to really look her in the eye.
“But then why did she disappear from the chapel? And why did she leave her bag and cell phone there?” Ivy asked, dropping her coat and bag on my bed.
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah. That,” Ivy said acerbically. Clearly she was annoyed, but I knew her annoyance was directed at Noelle and not at me. Ivy was perpetually irritated with Noelle. Or angry with her. Or full-on furious with her. It just depended on the day and the situation.
“That was a prank,” I told her, looking up briefly. “She was trying to make it look like she was grabbed or something, just to mess with us. After all the candles went out, she snuck out the back door and came down to campus to wait for us, but when she got there she got a call from her mom on her backup phone and she had to leave right away.”
Ivy’s eyes narrowed as she pondered this. My ribs rattled with each pound of my heart. She had to buy the story. She had to. It was the best one I had. The only one.
“Unbelievable,” she said finally, shaking her head. “She scared the crap out of us. God. What a total bitch.”
“I know! I know,” I said, breathing a slight sigh of relief. “I told her how everyone was freaking out. She felt really bad about it.”
“I’ll bet,” Ivy said sarcastically.
Something inside of me snapped. “I know you don’t like her, but do you really have to call her names all the time?” I demanded. “She is one of my best friends.”
Ivy looked stunned for a moment. Not surprising. I wasn’t normally big on the outbursts. But Noelle didn’t deserve to be called a bitch. Especially not now. Especially when she might already be …
I swallowed hard and looked at the floor. Ivy threw up her hands in surrender. “Sorry. I’ll try to control myself from now on. But if she keeps pulling crap like this I make no guarantees.”
She crossed to my bed, which was still made since I hadn’t slept at all last night, and sat down. As she leaned back on her hands she knocked my phone across the bed toward the wall. My heart flew into my throat as she turned to pick it up. The “game on” text was still up on the screen.
“I got it!” I said, lunging at her and snatching the cell away before she could look at it.
“Wow,” Ivy said. “Grab much?”
I forced a laugh that sounded more like a strangled cough, and shoved the phone into the depths of my bag.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing my coat off the back of my desk chair. “I’m starving.”
“Me too. I hope they have French toast this morning,” Ivy said, bouncing off my bed. Her total lack of sadness, foreboding, and fear made me feel even more miserable and more alone. “I seriously can’t believe Noelle, though,” she said as she slipped past me out the door, shrugging one arm into the sleeve of her coat. “Although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. When has she ever given a crap about anyone other than herself? Sooner or later that girl is going to get hers.”
So much for controlling herself.
She shoved her other arm into her coat as I banged the door closed behind us, biting down on my tongue to keep from lashing out again or crying, or both. Laying into Ivy was not going to help Noelle. I had to try to stay calm and in control. I had to make sure I was ready for whatever was coming next.
Josh Hollis sat alone at a corner table in the dining hall, his shoulders hunched, his doughnuts untouched. But the moment Ivy and I emerged from the buffet-style food line, his posture straightened. My heart thumped extra hard. He was waiting for me. Waiting for news. Josh was the only person who knew about what had really happened to Noelle. He’d been with me when the text had come in, and from the looks of his rumpled blue sweater and waxy skin, he’d spent the night in much the same way I had: sleeplessly.
“Are you guys going to go to the Valentine’s Day dance next weekend?” Ivy asked casually.
I blinked. Dances and chocolates and flowers were about the furthest thing from my mind right then. But now that I looked around the stone-walled room, I saw that a few glittery red and pink hearts dangled from the ceiling here and there. A big white banner had been strung across the back wall, inviting us all to the annual Sweethearts Dance next Saturday night, and there was a distinctly flirtatious vibe in the air—lots of blushing and giggling and whispering.
“I don’t know,” I replied, trying not to wonder whether Noelle would even be alive next Saturday night. “I didn’t even realize it was February.”
Ivy laughed. “You need coffee. Go ahead. He’s waiting for you.” She nudged me with her elbow, carefully balancing her tray of French toast and fruit. “I’ll sit with the girls and tell them what happened with Noelle.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Try not to bash her in the process.”
She smirked. “I’ll try.”
Normally, I might have made sure that Ivy was truly okay with me going over and sitting alone with her ex-boyfriend, who was now my current boyfriend. But today, I didn’t have it in me to be overly solicitous. I walked over to Josh’s table, dropped my tray of Cheerios down across from his tray of doughnuts, and sat.
“Anything?” he asked hopefully, raising his eyebrows.