When she felt like she could breathe again, she finally made her way downstairs, wobbling on her high heels. Isla was now standing in the middle of the glass-covered foyer, picking pieces of glass out of her messy dark hair. Isaac appeared from the kitchen, carrying a glass of water and handed it to her. The guy next to her—definitely, undeniably Easy Walsh—was still looking at her, concerned.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” Tinsley asked, glass crunching under her shoes, as she came up and put her hand on Isla’s shoulder. Gently. Her skin was marked with dozens of red scratches, most of which looked like surface cuts. Someone had slid a pair of men’s shoes onto Isla’s bare feet before setting her down on the glass-covered floor. She had a dazed look on her face, and she was still leaning against Easy’s tall, lean body. “We need to take you to the health center. Have them check you out.”
Isla blinked her pale green eyes at Tinsley and gave a shaky laugh. Her dark, curly hair was wild and tangled, although the look actually suited her. “I’m fine, thanks to this handsome stranger.”
Tinsley looked up at Easy, who was standing there in a pair of battered hiking shoes and an ugly brown coat. His beautiful unruly hair had been completely shorn off at military school, making him look older and harder, but also highlighting his perfect bone structure. His skin was tanned, and his lean body was tighter, stronger looking. Tinsley imagined him doing hundreds of pushups a day and running through obstacle courses in the mud. He looked more serious than Tinsley remembered. But maybe that was because he’d just saved someone’s life.
“Um, I’m glad you walked through this door at the most perfect time in the world and all, but… what the hell are you doing here?” Tinsley stared at him, awestruck.
“Long story.” Easy chuckled softly. His gentle Kentucky accent was more pronounced than before. She’d heard his military school was down south somewhere, like the backwoods of West Virginia. “Basically, I ran away. I really just wanted to see Credo again.”
Tinsley almost felt like crying. She leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank God you did. You saved Isla’s life.” It seemed absolutely crazy that Easy could show up at Waverly to check on his horse and arrive on exactly the right night, at exactly the right time.
“I don’t know about that.” An embarrassed grin broke out on his face. “I was on my way to the stables when I ran into Heath in the woods.” He shrugged casually, as if it was no big deal. “He never could miss a party.”
Isla smiled up at Easy through her long, thick eyelashes. “Really, it must have been fate that you got here when you did,” she said, touching his arm. “Otherwise, I’d have…” She shivered. Theatrically. Isla had just managed to escape breaking her neck, and here she was flirting with a hot guy. Already. Not bad.
“You guys should probably head out.” Isaac appeared, a huge push broom in his hand as he swept up the shards of glass that dotted the foyer. “The security guards are chasing after the others, so you could probably sneak out of here without anyone noticing.”
Tinsley opened her mouth to agree, but before she could, the front door flew open once more. Dean Dresden appeared in the doorway, his ashen-faced wife at his side. They both had on long black coats, scarves thrown hastily around their necks.
“Isla, security said there was an accident. Are you hurt?” The dean stepped forward as Mrs. Dresden threw her arms around Isla, who immediately burst into tears. Tinsley blinked her eyes. From femme fatale to weeping child in three seconds? Even she wasn’t that good.
“I’m fine, Daddy.” She pulled away from her mother, wiping at her tears with her wrist, and threw herself into her father’s arms. Isla hadn’t been traumatized a minute ago, when she was hitting on Easy Walsh. But Tinsley couldn’t blame her for putting on the teary-eyed act—Dean Dresden looked furious. She hoped he’d be lenient with Isla, at least, given what she’d just gone through. She hadn’t meant to do anything wrong—she just had pretty terrible judgment.
“She’s all right, sir,” one of the security guards spoke up. The shoulders of his dark maroon jacket were dusted in snow. “She managed to land in someone’s arms, and it looks like she just has some cuts and bruises. You probably want to get her checked out at the health center.”
“Oh, Isla, I’m just glad you’re safe.” The dean’s voice turned stern as he stepped away from his daughter. In his dark suit and black overcoat, he looked dapper but intimidating. “But I don’t enjoy being called away from an important evening with my new faculty to come home to… this.” He swept his arm out over the shattered glass of the foyer. Shards of metal littered the area, and pieces of splintered wood hung down from the gaping hole in the ceiling. “This disaster area. Tell me, how on earth did this happen?” Tinsley’s mouth twisted as she waited for the ax to fall on her friend. Clearly, Isla was not going to escape punishment. It wasn’t fair, really. The whole thing was an accident.
Tinsley stepped forward, her heels crunching against the glass. She knew it was never smart for an outsider to interfere with parental disciplining, but she couldn’t just stand by and watch her friend get reamed out.
But Isla spoke first. “Daddy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to get up on the roof.” Her sea-green eyes teared up again, the tears spilling out over her cheeks. “But Tinsley kept insisting what a great shot it would make. It was all her idea.”
Tinsley’s jaw dropped. What? She’d told Isla it was a terrible idea. Tinsley’s eyes flashed up to meet Easy’s. He looked skeptical about Isla’s story. If a perfect stranger could tell it was a lie, couldn’t her parents?
Isla started to sob openly. “I was so… scared.”
“Oh, baby.” Mrs. Dresden threw her arms around Isla, shooting daggers toward Tinsley.
Tinsley’s mouth felt dry as the dean’s eyes turned to her. Was there any way he’d take her own word… over his own daughter’s? Her heart sunk as she realized how unlikely that was. He’d probably seen Tinsley’s file, in fact, and knew that she’d already been kicked out of Waverly once. Maybe even Isla knew.
“Tinsley, is this true?” The dean’s voice was cold.
Tinsley glanced at Isla. She didn’t know what she expected—a wink, a secret nod, anything. But instead, Isla’s eyes were icy and distant.
Suddenly it all made sense. Isla said she loved hanging with the most interesting kids. Of course. Isla probably did the same thing at every school—find out who the kids with the worst records were, befriend them, and then, when things fell apart, lay the blame accordingly. It was the perfect alibi.
That bitch. She’d underestimated Isla, clearly. Tinsley definitely had met her match. But not in a good way.
“Dean Dresden—” she began, searching for the words to defend herself.
But the dean cut her off. “Miss Carmichael. Be in my office Monday morning. Eight o’clock sharp. We’ll discuss this then.” The dean’s lips pressed together in a straight line.
“Dad, listen.” Isaac spoke up, placing his hand on his father’s forearm. “I don’t think it was Tinsley’s fault.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Dean Dresden replied sharply.
Tinsley felt her own eyes start to sting, but she’d be damned if she let that bitch make her cry. She bit her lip and turned to the coat closet off the entryway. Coats were scattered everywhere. She flicked aside a stack of black peacoats, searching for her gray Michael Kors. She’d never wanted to disappear so badly in her life.
“And Isaac,” she overheard the dean saying, “you are going to make me a list of every single person who was at the party tonight.”
“Dad, I can’t do that….”
Tinsley finally grabbed her coat and peeked into the hallway just in time to see the dean hold out a hand to Easy Walsh, who had been standing there awkwardly the entire time. “Now, young man, I’m dying to know to whom I owe my daughter’s life.”
Some people have all the luck.
Instant Message Inbox
AlanStGirard: Sorry
our dance got interrupted. Those security dudes are so rude!
BennyCunningham: S’all right—not like U were getting anywhere, anyway!
AlanStGirard: Man, that shit was fucked up. Good thing Isla’s okay.
BennyCunningham: That was insane! Was that really Easy?
AlanStGirard: Hells yeah it was. His bag is already back in the room. Good thing they never gave me a new roomie.
BennyCunningham: How’d he escape military school?
AlanStGirard: Sorry, sugar. My lips are sealed. Unless, of course, you’re offering to unseal them.
Instant Message Inbox
RyanReynolds: Quick—guess what bra size the dean’s wife is.
BrandonBuchanan: What? Dude, you are fucking sick. That’s all you can think about?
RyanReynolds: Yes. 34D. I even took a pair of panties to go with!
BrandonBuchanan: Didn’t U hear that Heath is back? U don’t have to be the resident perv anymore.
Instant Message Inbox
CelineColista: I saw that fat security guy look straight at me—the ’rents will kill me if I get in trouble!
AlisonQuentin: Don’t worry. They don’t know who U are. Or who anyone else was. We’re safe.
CelineColista: Good. Man, I need to sober up!
AlisonQuentin: How hot did Easy look? Military school does a body goooood.
CelineColista: Right? Did U see the look on Cal’s face? Looks like Brandon is screwed—again!
AlisonQuentin: I’ll take Callie’s sloppy seconds anytime.
24
A WAVERLY OWL MAKES AN EFFORT TO BOND WITH HER DORMMATES.
Jenny eased down the creaky staircase of Dumbarton Hall later that night. Even in the safety of her favorite slippers, she still felt like there was a giant lead ball sitting in her stomach. They’d destroyed the new dean’s house and practically killed his daughter. Shit was going to hit the fan.
She poked her head into the common room. Despite the fact that it was almost lights out, Angelica Pardee, their dorm mistress, had already turned in and told them not to stay up too late. She clearly hadn’t heard about the epic party at the dean’s house yet, otherwise she would undoubtedly have made sure all her charges were sequestered in their rooms.
Everyone looked up when Jenny entered the room. “Legendary party, Jenny!” Benny Cunningham, in a pair of gray silk pajamas, lounged with her legs thrown over an armchair. She threw a piece of buttery popcorn in Jenny’s direction. “I particularly liked the surprise ending.”
Jenny blushed and headed over to the blue velvet sofa, sitting down beside Brett. “I’m glad I missed it,” Brett said quietly. She’d left right after her Sebastian fallout and was glad she’d avoided the chaos. But she was also secretly happy that everybody came home early. It had been lonely, sitting here by herself in the common room, driving herself crazy thinking about where Sebastian was and whom he was with.
“Yeah, I saw you screaming at Sebastian. What was that all about?” Benny leaned forward, her eyes greedy for gossip.
Jenny could tell Brett didn’t want to talk about it, so she spoke up. “I thought everything was going well until the whole crashing-through-the-skylight thing.” She tried to make her voice sound light, but she was really worried. She kept thinking about Isaac, hoping he wasn’t going to get in too much trouble. She felt terrible about leaving him alone to face the music.
Celine Colista, wearing a skimpy Only Hearts nightie, tucked her legs up under her and wrapped a fleece Waverly Owls blanket around her shoulders. She sipped from a bottle of spiked Gatorade. “Who cares? The party will go down in history—and all the better, since no one got busted.”
Benny giggled drunkenly. “I can’t believe we all got out before those security guards could catch anyone.”
“I can’t believe she actually fell through the roof!” Alison replied, stumbling slightly across the room before collapsing into an empty armchair. Jenny had seen her down three glasses of sangria, and with her tiny frame, that had to have made an impact. Lon Baruzza, who’d been flirting with her all night, was probably extra pissed that the party got broken up.
“Hello!” Benny wrapped a pink cashmere blanket tighter around her. “What about Easy Walsh, appearing out of nowhere? Wasn’t that incredible?”
“Why do you think he came back?” Brett asked, staring right at Callie.
Immediately, Callie felt everyone’s eyes on her. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Easy since she saw him, wondering the same exact thing. Why had he come back? Was it… for her?
“So, I don’t get it, Cal. Are you and Brandon together, or what?” Benny asked, pulling her light brown hair into a ponytail.
Callie glared at Benny. She and Brandon had shared an awkward goodbye as they ran from the security guards. Although they didn’t talk about it, she was pretty sure he was thinking about Easy being back, too. She had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow. Was it possible that Easy was back for good? Now that she had seen him again, the idea of him leaving before she could talk to him made her sick to her stomach. Was he thinking about her right now? Where was he sleeping? Could he really tell that Brandon had been holding her hand? “I don’t know,” she said finally, feigning a yawn to avoid further questioning.
“How about Heath?” Brett jumped in, seeing the distress on Callie’s face. Callie shot her a grateful look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him looking dirtier.”
“I wondered how long he’d be able to last in the woods.” Jenny giggled. The other girls weren’t worried about getting in trouble, so maybe she shouldn’t be, either. Maybe things would work out. “Without female contact.”
“I’ve totally missed him,” Benny admitted. “It’s kind of nice to have someone around to leer at you.”
There was a pounding on the front door of Dumbarton, and Jenny jumped. “Who is that?” she hissed.
“Don’t be such a chicken,” Benny replied crankily, standing up and stepping into her Mephisto clogs. “It’s not security. They’d just come in.” She clomped over to the door and threw it open. A rush of cold air burst into the foyer, along with an almost blue Sage Francis and Verena Arneval, still wearing their high heels and party dresses.
“Holy fuck, it’s cold out.” Sage stumbled through the door, giggling and rubbing her bare arms. “Thanks for letting us in.”
“Our ID cards were in our coat pockets,” Verena explained, lunging for the throw blanket on the back of the common-room couch.
“Wait, what?” Brett’s eyes widened. “You guys left your coats there? With your IDs in them?”
“But if they have our IDs…” Verena trailed off.
“They know who we are,” Benny finished the sentence, throwing herself into an armchair. “Fuck! I didn’t even think of that. A bunch of us ran into Yvonne Stidder on the way home and she opened the front door. I didn’t even notice I was cardless.”
Jenny met Brett’s eyes. Brett, as junior class prefect, probably had a good idea what kind of punishments would result from an illegal, alcohol-fueled party that ended with someone falling through the roof.
“We’re totally fucked,” Sage wailed, grabbing a random fleece from the coatrack in the living room that the girls used as a lost and found. She wrapped it around her shoulders. “I can’t believe I thought we were in the clear.”
The sound of another knock at the door startled the room. Everyone watched, terrified this time, as Sage cautiously pushed open the door. Instead of an angry security guard, Heath Ferro whirled in, pausing to throw his arms around Sage and give her a long, wet kiss on her cheek. “Did I smell popcorn, ladies?”
“Heath, get out of here,” Callie snapped, pushing him away as he tried to hug her. His chin was covered with a blondish stubble, and his cheeks were ruddy and tanned. The scruffy look actually suited him, but after all the rumors about him eating poor, defenseless squirrels, Callie was kind of grossed out.
“I can’t help it. I’ve been deprived of female contact fo
r too long.” His green eyes eagerly scanned the room, taking in the pajama-clad girls sprawled on the sofas and chairs. He threw himself down on a couch between Brett and Jenny. “This is like heaven for me.”
“Seriously, we’re in enough trouble already.” Brett shoved Heath’s arm off her. He smelled like a combination of Pine-Sol and BO. “Leave.”
“Trouble?” Heath asked, snatching a lock of Jenny’s hair and holding it under his nose. His eyes rolled back into his head as if he were about to faint with pleasure. Jenny quickly pulled her hair out of his hand and inched away from him.
“Oh shit,” Brett exclaimed, getting to her feet as a terrible thought crossed her mind. Although she hadn’t been stupid enough to leave her ID card behind, she had been stupid enough to leave the monogrammed silk scarf her grandmother had given her for her birthday last year. How many Waverly Owls shared her same initials? It would take the dean about five minutes to figure out who it belonged to.
At that exact moment, like a sign from above, everyone’s phones buzzed. Except Jenny’s. She stared at her mysteriously silent Treo as everyone else flicked open their phones.
“An e-mail from the dean,” Brett confirmed, running her hand through her hair.
“Please tell me he says we’re all under house arrest and have to stay exactly where we are for the rest of Jan Plan,” Heath said, pressing his hands together in prayer at the thought of being locked in the Dumbarton common room with the prettiest girls in school.
“Let me see.” Jenny peered over Heath’s shoulder to read the e-mail on Brett’s phone. It was addressed to a long list of people—everyone who had been at the party.
Brett continued to read aloud. “From the coats, ID cards”—Sage Francis groaned—“and cell phones left behind, along with several photographs taken by security as students fled the scene, we’ve managed to compile a list of those who attended the party,” Brett read. “If you are receiving this e-mail, you are officially on academic probation. Everyone must report to my office at eight o’clock sharp on Monday morning to receive your punishment. In the meantime, you may pick up your abandoned belongings in the Stansfield Hall lobby.”