Page 19 of Revelation (Private 8)
31
* * *
As predicted, there was no sleep that night. Earlier I had sneaked out of the room for all of one
minute to flush the pills and the place card in one of the toilets in the communal bathroom (after
all, if the police were going to be investigating a murder, I didn't want to be caught with the cause
of death), but they still haunted me. Every noise I heard--every creak, every whistle of wind, every
footfall--brought my heart to a screeching halt and my eyes to the door. And between these
excruciating moments, there were too many thoughts swirling in my mind. Too many humiliating
memories popping up to replay themselves and make my heart and stomach clench. Too much to
regret. Too much to wish away.
I wished I had never started e-mailing with Dash at the beginning of the school year.
I wished I hadn't had all those drinks at the Legacy.
I wished I had never gone up on that roof.
32
I wished Josh had never found us.
I wished I had told Noelle the truth from the beginning.
I wished I had seen Ivy taking that stupid video so that I could have bitch-slapped her right then
and there and nipped this whole thing in the bud.
I pulled my pillow over my face and groaned into it. At that moment Ivy's laugh, clear as day, filled
my room. I tossed the pillow aside. It wasn't just that the walls in Pemberly were paper thin--
which they were--but there was a vent right beneath my bed, through which I could hear almost
everything Ivy and her roommate, Jillian Crane, said to each other. At least, that is, when they
were being loud and I was listening. I glanced at the clock on my desk. It was after midnight. What
the hell was Ivy laughing about over there?
Her laugh was followed by a giggle and some quietly murmured words. My hands curled into fists.
I recognized that tone. She was talking to a guy. Flirting. And not with just any guy--with my guy.
Josh was, right now, whispering sweet nothings to cold, evil Ivy.
Suddenly filled with ire, I flung my covers aside and sat up straight. It was still frigid in the room, so
I had worn sweatpants, a turtleneck, and a sweatshirt to bed, along with some thick socks, which
now protected my feet from the icy floor as I paced in a teeny, tiny circle. I had to think. I had to
