Invitation Only (Private 2) - Page 87

Josh blinked at me and then his face fell. “Oh. You're se­ri­ous,” he said.

“Yes, I'm se­ri­ous,” I said, be­yond of­fend­ed.

Josh put his milk down and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Reed, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Thomas was the last per­son who was ev­er go­ing to re­hab. He was so wast­ed the last night he was here you could have wrung him out and served shots.”

The cafe­te­ria had just be­come a Grav­it­ron, whirling and tilt­ing

263

and head­ing for the sky. There was no way to fo­cus, so I closed my eyes.

“What?” I said, my mouth dry.

“I came back from the li­brary and he was on the phone scream­ing at Rick, so gone he couldn't even stand up straight,” Josh whis­pered. “That's why I think Noelle might be right. Thomas was pret­ty livid and I bet he said some stuff he wouldn't have said if he wasn't such a mess. I didn't think much of it at the time, be­cause those two were al­ways at each oth­er's throats over some­thing, but maybe this time he re­al­ly pissed Rick off some­how.”

I pressed the heel of my hand in­to my fore­head, try­ing to make sense of all of this. Thomas was drunk? But that morn­ing he had been so sin­cere about quit­ting. And he'd left me that note. He was go­ing to some holis­tic treat­ment cen­ter. He was get­ting help.

Had that all been a lie?

“This doesn't make any sense,” I said aloud.

“What?” Josh asked.

Wait a minute, wait a minute. Why would he leave me that note if he wasn't ac­tu­al­ly plan­ning on leav­ing? I would have been kind of sus­pi­cious if I had found the note that night and then seen him on cam­pus the next day. So he must have been plan­ning on go­ing some­where. But where?

“Maybe it was just a last hur­rah,” I sug­gest­ed. “Maybe he want­ed to get drunk one last time be­fore go­ing to re­hab?”

It sound­ed to­tal­ly pa­thet­ic even as I said it. So pa­thet­ic that Josh ac­tu­al­ly had pity in his eyes.

“Reed, what makes you so sure that Thomas was go­ing to re­hab?” he asked gen­tly.

264

The dou­ble doors opened and sun­light poured in. Noelle, Ar­iana, Tay­lor, and Ki­ran strode through and head­ed straight for the break­fast line. I didn't want them to hear any of this and start spec­ulat­ing. We had to talk fast.

“He left me a note,” I con­fessed quick­ly. “I found it in one of my books. He said he was go­ing to a treat­ment cen­ter and not to try to find him. He said he was leav­ing that night.”

Josh laughed de­ri­sive­ly and shook his head. “Leave it to Pear­son. I bet the last words out of his mouth were a lie.”

A thump of dread warmed my in­sides. “What do you mean?”

Josh looked at me as if he'd just re­al­ized who he was talk­ing to. “Noth­ing. For­get it,” he said.

“Josh--”

“It's just...” He crum­pled a nap­kin and squeezed it in his fist. “I just don't think that Thomas ev­er ful­ly ap­pre­ci­at­ed what he had when he had you, that's all.”

My mouth fell open slight­ly and I snapped it closed. Josh stared at me in­tent­ly. No avert­ed eyes, no quick change of sub­ject. He re­al­ly meant what he had just said. I was both flat­tered and com­plete­ly thrown. He'd just im­plied that Thomas had lied to me non­stop . . . and com­pli­ment­ed me in the same breath.

“Reed, you have to show that note to the po­lice,” Josh said.

“How do you know I haven't?” I asked.

“Have you?”

“No,” I ad­mit­ted mis­er­ably.

“It's ev­idence,” Josh said. “It might be the last thing Thomas ev­er wrote. They need to see it.”

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