Carolina took my arm and steered me down one of the stone pathways toward the Billings site, holding me close to her side as Ivy scurried to keep up. She wore a blue-and-white plaid shirt with snap buttons and destroyed designer jeans. Her thick hair smelled of apricots and, now that I was close up, I could see that she had on tons of makeup to hide what appeared to be acne scars. It was kind of nice to know that someone so beautiful and famous still had a few flaws to deal with.
“Now just act natural,” she said under her breath. “This is all just for the B roll. Establishing shots. Stuff like that.”
“Okay.”
All around us, people dropped what they were doing and turned to stare. A group of freshmen seated in a study circle looked up from their laptops and pointed. Trey and Gage Coolidge stopped tossing around a football and eyed us curiously. Even a group of teachers over by the Hell Hall stairs paused to gape. Suddenly it wasn’t the camera I was worried about. It was all the attention.
“Ugh. I was so disgusted and sad when I heard they had torn this place down,” Carolina said. “Now that I see it, I’m just plain depressed.”
We had come to the edge of the construction site, and she stared down at the spot where the front steps had once stood—a small area still untouched by the construction. You could still make out the indent where the bottom stone stair used to be, and she traced the corner of it with the toe of her work boot.
“This place really was like a second home,” she said, staring wistfully up at the sky. Christopher zoomed in on her as the microphone guy hovered the fuzzy boom over her head. Her expression was nostalgic and morose. “I’m honored that I’ll have the chance to rebuild it,” she said reverently. Then she looked directly into the lens and
brightened like a firework lighting the night sky. “In true green fashion, of course!”
Ivy clapped quietly and I tried not to laugh. As Carolina began to walk the perimeter, dragging her crew and her superfan with her, I gazed across at the trailers and narrowed my eyes. Was that creepy figure yesterday just a curious student checking things out, or had he been here for a more sinister reason? Fingering Eliza Williams’s locket, I was about to walk over and check things out when I got that eerie, skin-tingling feeling that I was being watched. I turned around quickly, half expecting to see a mysterious blond girl staring me down, and was surprised to find Noelle standing under a tree about fifty yards off. Her arms were clutched around her stomach, and her sunglasses covered half her face. I smiled and waved her over, hoping that meeting Carolina might perk her up, but she acted as if she hadn’t even seen me. She slipped her phone out of her bag and ducked her head to talk as she walked off in the opposite direction. My heart thumped with this odd, disappointed foreboding, and again my skin started to prickle. This was never going to feel right if Noelle couldn’t get behind it.
“Now here’s what I’m thinking.” Carolina flung her arms out wide as if getting ready to paint a picture of her vision. “The taller the building, the—”
“Excuse me! Excuse me! Miss Brennan!”
We all turned around to watch as the headmaster speed-walked toward us across the quad, not even bothering to use the pathways. Missy and her cousin Paige Ryan scurried after him, like his personal and very alert assistants, which made my stomach turn. Paige and Missy had been involved in the previous plan to rebuild Billings—the one that had also included several of the women who had helped orchestrate and execute my latest near-death experience and Mr. Lange’s murder. Which, of course, made me wonder what the hell they were doing here now, and why they appeared to be so buddy-buddy with the headmaster.
Headmaster Hathaway tried to get his breathing under control as he arrived in front of us. He shot the camera a scathing look.
“Would you mind turning that thing off?”
Christopher didn’t move.
“Sorry. He’s under strict orders to only answer to me,” Carolina said with a wide grin. She offered the headmaster her hand. “I’m Carolina Grant of Go Green!, the number-one show on Renovate TV. And you are?”
“I’m William Hathaway. Headmaster of Easton Academy,” he replied, quickly grasping her hand. “Now what is the meaning of all of this?”
“Headmaster? Fantastic!” Carolina blurted, clasping her hands. “Then you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together. Reed here has asked me to oversee the reconstruction of Billings House, ensuring that it meets all the green standards of the county, but we’re going to do much more than that, aren’t we, Reed?”
I blinked. Her grin was practically blinding.
“We’re going to exceed those standards!” Carolina announced, putting her arm around the headmaster’s back.
Headmaster Hathaway went as stiff as a board. I’d never seen him look so uncomfortable.
“I thought the project was shelved,” Paige said in a snide tone, looking me up and down. “Isn’t that what you told us, Mr. Hathaway?”
My fingers curled into fists. Why was she even here? And what was the headmaster doing discussing the status of my project with her? Then, just like that, it hit me. It hit me so hard my brain felt suddenly weightless. Maybe Missy and Paige had sent the plans to the county. They definitely had the motive—they wanted more than anything to keep me from rebuilding Billings my way. But how had they gotten hold of the plans?
Headmaster Hathaway extricated himself from Carolina’s grasp and scratched just above his eyebrow. “Yes, well, from what I understood, it was going to take months for Miss Brennan’s contractors to acquire the green supplies required to—”
“Please. Nothing takes months once I get involved!” Carolina said. “I have connections at every major green company in the country. I can have every little thing we need delivered here like that!” she said, snapping her fingers.
Frown lines creased the headmaster’s forehead. “I appreciate your good intentions, Miss Grant, but the truth of the matter is that it’s not that simple,” he said. “This sort of thing must be voted on by the board of directors. Having a camera crew on campus is a serious privacy issue,” he added, glancing at the camera lens as Christopher zoomed in. He straightened his jacket and cleared his throat. “Each and every one of our students and faculty will need to sign waivers. There are permits to procure . . .”
With each new objection, my hope deflated further and further until it was nothing but a tiny, wrinkled, airless balloon. I had thought that Headmaster Hathaway had finally come around to being on my side—at least he’d attempted to act disappointed when he’d told me about the county’s restrictions. But now, I had to wonder. Had he been psyched to get that letter from the county? Was he relieved to have a reason to shut me down and blame someone else? I knew he’d never been a fan of Billings—it had been his idea to raze it in the first place—but after I’d donated all that money I thought he’d pretty much jumped on board the Reed train. Apparently not so much.
As Hathaway continued his point-by-point case, Carolina put on a pensive expression and nodded thoughtfully. She shot me a quick glance, clearly prodding me to say something, and panic welled up inside my chest. What was I supposed to say? They were the adults here. I was just a student. And besides, how was I supposed to know how to deal with privacy waivers and consent forms? Did I look like I’d graduated from law school recently?
“Of course, of course,” Carolina said, finally realizing I was going to remain mute. She cast a glance over her shoulder at iPad girl. “And when is the next board meeting?”
“Well . . . this Thursday night,” the headmaster said. “But I’m sure there’s no way you can be prepared in time to—”