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Besides, it wasn't like I would have much else to do now that Josh had made it clear that we were over. My heart constricted as
fuzzy flashes of last night suddenly assaulted my brain. Dash McCafferty's lips on mine. Josh's face when he found us in that private
tent. The way he'd practically spat in my face as he told me it was over. How could someone who supposedly loved me so much look
at me that way? And how was my heart ever going to heal when every time I thought about Josh, it broke a little more? "Are you all
right?" Noelle asked me. "You just went all visage blanc."
I blinked and tried to look normal. It wasn't like I could confide in Noelle about what had happened. After all, she and Dash had
gotten back together last night, and she had no clue that I'd gotten horizontal with him. Had no idea that this indiscretion was the cause
of my breakup with Jos
h. All I had told her was that Josh had ended it out of nowhere. Big, big lie. "I'm fine. Just an adrenaline
crash," I told her. "Reed!" Amberly shouted, hustling over to me with her two ever- present lackeys at her sides. Her loose blond curls
bounced around her angelic face and she wore a light pink coat with a white-and- pink plaid scarf over white thin-wale cords. As
matchy-matchy as ever. "We just wanted to let you know that if you need any help with the fund-raiser--anything whatsoever--we're
here for you," she said, clasping my arm. "Thanks," I said vaguely. "I'll keep that in mind."
I turned around to search the crowd for Josh. Maybe I'd focus on saving Billings after I talked to him. I had to talk to him. Had to
try to explain. Try to make things right. Try... something. Most of the student body had divided into klatches that now dotted the lawn
around Mitchell Hall. Gage Coolidge, Trey Prescott, and some other guys from Ketlar Hall stood about ten feet away, huddled togeth-
er against the cold, since guys were too cool for outerwear, but Josh wasn't with them. Then, from the corner of my eye, I spotted him.
Alone. Head down. Skulking toward the edge of campus. Toward the Jonathan Arthur Montgomery Building, which housed the art
studios, the Chronicle newspaper office, the literary magazine office, practice rooms for the choir and orchestra, and several other
venues for artistic pursuits. The J.A.M. Building was one of Josh's two favorite spots on campus, the other being the art cemetery,
where we used to rendezvous before he rendezvoused there with Cheyenne. God, that seemed like ages ago. When Cheyenne was
alive, when I had caught her trysting with my boyfriend, when I had almost lost him over her. A lot had happened this year. So much
had changed. And it was only the first of November.
"Reed? Where are you going?" Noelle asked me as I turned away from my friends. "We have a lot to do if we're going to make this
fundraiser happen." I paused. "I know. I just have something I have to take care of." One step away and a dark blue sweater blocked
my path. I looked up. Hovering over me was an unreasonably tall guy with brown eyes and a preppy haircut that screamed Young
Wall Street. Weston Bright. West for short. Ketlar Hall. Senior. Lacrosse captain. My brain recited these things, though why it knew
them or cared, I had no idea. "Reed, what you did in there... that was amazing," West said, speaking the first words he'd ever spoken
to me. He pushed his hand into the pocket of his gray slacks. His smile was genuine, affable. "How'd you do that? I think if I tried to
stand up to Cromwell, I'd keel over drooling."
