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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-
