Page 7 of Revelation (Private 8)
cavalierly. She couldn't. But no one was laughing like it was a joke. No one even moved. I gripped
the back of the love seat, my sweaty fingers pulling on Lorna's wavy brown hair.
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"Ow!" Lorna protested loudly, sitting forward to free herself.
"What do you mean, you voted me out?" I breathed. Suddenly everything in the room was
distorted. The faces, the furniture, the flames leaping in the fireplace. It wasn't real. This couldn't
be real.
"You have an hour to pack your things," Noelle said, standing and smoothing her skirt. "There's a
single waiting for you in Pemberly."
My mind reeled, making me feel dizzy, unsteady. Grappling to stay focused, I looked around at my
so-called friends. At the people with whom I had shared so much. At the girls who had voted me
president just two months ago. Unanimously voted me president. We studied together, shopped
together, gossip
ed together, got over hangovers together, bitched about parents and boyfriends
and teachers together. They were my friends. The first real girlfriends I had ever had. The first real
family I'd ever had. They couldn't do this to me. They wouldn't.
"No. You guys. You can't just--"
"Sure we can," Noelle said with a smirk, stepping over outstretched legs and designer shoes to
stand before me. "The residents of Billings decide who lives in Billings, remember? And we
decided we don't want a backstabbing bitch living here."
My grip on the love seat tightened. I couldn't breathe. I stared into Noelle's cool brown eyes,
searching for the punch line. Waiting for her to laugh and tell me she was just messing with me
like she had so many times in the past. We were friends. Practically sisters. And yeah, I had messed
up, but didn't a person even get a chance to beg for forgiveness before... this?
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"No," I said finally. "No. I don't believe you."
I tore my eyes from Noelle and looked around again. I looked at Tiffany, who had always been so
levelheaded and good-natured. Who had always been a voice of reason. She simply turned her
face to the side, giving me a view of her perfect cheekbone and smooth cocoa skin. I glanced at
Rose--sweet, don't-rock-the-boat Rose--but her eyes were trained on her lap, her red curls hiding
