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must have spotted Ivy. "Oh. Yeah. That's not good," he said, knowing Ivy was the leader of the anti- Billings brigade. "She. Cannot.
Be here." I started forward, my eyes trained on Ivy. I was going to throw her out. I didn't care if she'd paid to get in. She was the en-
emy. "If I can have your attention, please?" Tiffany said into the microphone on our small, makeshift stage.
People started to quiet, to turn. I stayed my course. I was on a mission. "My name is Tiffany Goulbour
ne, and I'd just like to start
out by thanking everyone for coming out tonight." I was ten steps away. Ten steps away from vindication. From revenge. And then,
Josh pulled Ivy to him--pulled her whole body into his--ran his hand over her cheek, and leaned in to kiss her like there was no one
else in the room. I stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped being. Her eyes fluttered closed. He deepened the kiss, his fingertips
now resting lightly on her shoulder. So it was true. They were together. I had been so hoping it was all a lie. Some out-of-control ru-
mor with a life of its own. So much for hope. My heart took over. Took over my whole body. Pounding and slamming and panicking.
Those were my hands. My lips. My fingertips. My tongue. My body. He was mine. Mine, mine, mine.
And yet there he was right in front of me, giving himself to her. "And now I'd like to bring up the person who is responsible for this
fabulous event!" Tiffany's voice boomed through the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, Reed Brennan!"
AND THE WINNER IS
I couldn't move. Could not make my limbs bend. Josh and Ivy pulled apart and looked into each other's eyes, their mutual affection
blatant, and all I could do was watch. My head swam. The floor heaved beneath my feet. I was going to faint. Actually going to faint.
"Reed? Where are you, Reed? I know you're out there somewhere!" Tiffany chided, earning polite laughter from the crowd. Marc
stepped up behind me and nudged my arm. "Reed, you have to go. They're waiting for you." Then Ivy turned and looked up at the
stage. She whispered something to Josh and was off, weaving her way with determination through the maze of waiters and guests and
models. Where was she going? But wait, who cared? Josh was alone now. All that mattered was-- "Reed! Let's go!" Suddenly the
Twin Cities had me by either arm and were walking me toward Tiffany. The moment I moved, my knees gave out and they had to
hold me up for a few steps. The people right around us stared, probably thinking I was drunk. But all I could think about was Josh and
Ivy. Josh and Ivy. Josh and Ivy.
How could he kiss her? How could he look at her like that? And at my event. He was supposed to love me. How could he ever look
at anyone else that way? It wasn't fair. Didn't he know how evil she was? What she was capable of? He couldn't have known. Would
never be with her if he did. I had to tell him the truth about her. I had to tell him that I needed him. I needed-- "Hello, everyone! My
name is Ivy Slade and I'm here to tell you all, well, why you're really here." The Twin Cities stopped abruptly and we all gaped up at
the stage. Somehow Ivy had gotten the microphone away from Tiffany and was now addressing the rapt crowd. "This is not a fund-
raiser for Easton Academy," Ivy said quickly, vehemently. "It's a PR job for Billings House. You remember Billings House. That tall
dorm on the edge of campus where lived the most awful girls at the academy?"
