Page 83 of Revelation (Private 8)
clean up the spill."
Two a.m. Cheyenne had still been alive at 2 a.m. She hadn't even gotten back to Billings from the
headmaster's office until almost one thirty, and then we'd had our fight. And I remember some
paramedic saying the estimated time of death was more like 4 a.m. Which would mean Amberly
was tucked back in her bed when Cheyenne died. Unless, of course, Lara was wrong--or lying. In
any case, where Amberly had gone in the middle of the night was a mystery.
"You're sure it was two a.m.," I said, looking at both of them.
"Positive," Lara said. "Kirsten likes to overexaggerate."
"She's right. I do," Kirsten said with a giggle.
"Well, thanks, girls." I shouldered my bag and tucked my hair behind my ear. "That's all I need to
know." I paused before striding out the door. "Say hi to your bear for me," I threw over my
shoulder.
I smiled as I walked out the door, even though I'd just proven that bitchy blond upstart innocent.
These days, I had to find the fun where I could get it.
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* * *
Tuesday at lunch I sat with Diana, Shane, and Sonal as they quizzed one another on French vocab
words they would need to know for their final. Since I wasn't taking French, I was able to tune
them out and stare off into space. Which basically meant I was staring at the Billings table.
Noelle and Amberly sat across from each other at the first seats near the aisle. Noelle in her usual
chair, Amberly in my old seat--which was also Ariana's old seat. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek
ponytail, and she wore a pressed white shirt under an aqua-colored, cable-knit sweater vest and a
gray skirt, plus a light blue scarf. When I squinted, she looked exactly like Ariana. Was I the only
person around here who had noticed her transformation? Was I the only one who was totally
creeped out by it?
"Have you guys noticed anything different about Amberly lately?" I asked my tablemates,
interrupting the vocab round-robin.
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"You mean like the fact that she's gone from sniveling bitch to bossy bitch in less than a week?"
Shane replied, taking a bite of her ham sandwich. "Has to be a record, even for Easton."
