What the . . . ?

The only thing I could think this whole weekend was what the hell. Really. It bounced back and forth inside my brain, teetering on the edge of my tongue, waiting to come out and scare everyone. Honestly, last weekend was a complete bust. It was a total disaster, and I had no idea what the hell happened.

First things first – Noelle resented me for some odd reason. The only thing I could discern when she was yelling at me was that she thought I was taking over the fundraiser, and something about how her father adored me more. Obviously, I had no clue as to where she got these ideas from, but she said them nonetheless.

I remember recalling when I came to Easton how detached and sullen the kids were toward their parents. Sure, it was a common stereotype among the kids, but I never realized the extent of it. Teenagers always had problems with their parents; it was a common occurrence. But this . . . This was something more.

The only time I had even met Noelle's parent was in St. Barth's and the New York trip. They seemed liked decent people (with a lot of money, of course). Noelle's mother communicated through spas and wasting money on clothes, and her father cared for her in some ways. So, why was she thinking they didn't love her?

What did I have that made me the target of such hate?

On top of that, Josh was confusing me every second. I thought back to our conversation in the Art Cemetery and about how he thought I was stalling because of Sawyer. Was I? No, not entirely. The thing was, when Josh and I were apart, it was . . . ugly. The air was pungent and stale around us, clogging our sense and mind. Josh said mean and hateful words to me, and I, in return, started to date people just to rub it in his face.

I couldn't forget.

And during winter break, I was confused as the Mad Hatter himself. Before I left, he had practically told me he loved me. So when I went to the beaches, I thought some air had been cleaned and maybe, just maybe, we could be together; things had only gotten worse.

I wasn't sure if Josh had broken up with Ivy. I didn't believe him. Perhaps Ivy was feeling unloved and maybe that was why she said she needed a break. Ivy was a human being with feelings also, and something just wasn't right.

I barely talked to Ivy even after we had some sort of truce. Why? I'm not sure. I knew she needed distance, and plus, I was extremely busy with the fundraiser.

"Reed! Wait up!" I turned around and saw Ivy coming at me. I was walking towards the library since that was my new hanging out spot. She wore a navy blue coat, her hair flying with the wind, and (gasp!) she had a smile on her face.

"Ivy, hey," I said somewhat halfheartedly. I stopped in the middle of my tracks, waiting for her to catch up. She finally came, that same damn smile still stuck on her face.

She hugged her backpack and said, "What's up? Long time, no see, despite the fact we live next door," Ivy joked. I chuckled a little, seeing she was right. I was dreadfully busy, and of course, I couldn't tell her I was ignoring her for obvious reasons.

"Well . . . You know Billings stuff . . ." I trailed off. Memories of recent events swarmed my brain, and my voice became wistful, as if I was still trying to keep the good memories alive.

Ivy seemed to be thinking the same thing. She gave a timid smile and asked, "Where are you headed?"

"Library; it's my new hang out place," I added while gesturing the books in my hand. I glanced at the old building and invited her to study with me.

"Oh, that'd be cool. Good thing I brought my stuff," said Ivy, slapping her heavy backpack at the same time. She looked at the fabric filled with books in disdain and said, "I'm so glad I'm a senior."

Now I was feeling extremely wistful. I wanted to get the hell out of Easton and get my degree this very moment. On top of the ridiculous homework, I hated the amount of drama that was embedded on Easton's walls. "Damn it – you have no idea how much I wish I was a senior," I remarked, earning a feel-good laugh from Ivy. I smiled, silently patting myself on the shoulder. Perhaps we could truly be friends.

"Reed! How wonderful to see you!" a voice rang out. Ivy and I swiftly turned our heads to the side, and saw Mr. Hathaway was walking toward us. He had a big grin on his face, his handsome face shining with delight.

"I never did get a good look at him. That's what I call a fine piece of forty year old specimen," Ivy mentioned. Slowly, I turned my head to face Ivy, my mouth in a soft O. She gave a throaty laugh while pointing at my face. "Look at you! Come on Reed, admit it: he's kind of hot for a headmaster," she added. My brows furrowed as I contemplated Spencer Hathaway's charming face.

Before I could muster a response, Mr. Hathaway came forth. "Hello ladies. How are you?" asked the ever polite Headmaster. He had a briefcase hanging on his shoulder filled with folders.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hathaway. We're fine," I supplied. I gave a sideways glance at Ivy, getting ready to introduce her. "How are you? And, uh, by the way, this is-"

"Come now, Mr. Hathaway – I hope you haven't forgotten me all already," Ivy said. My mind instantly began to reel, wondering when she had met him. She flashed her pearly whites and stuck out a hand.

Mr. Hathaway shook her hand briefly, smiling as he did so. "Of course I do! How could I?" he asked in mock-seriousness. We both gave shy giggles before he asked, "Where are you ladies going?"

"The good ol' library, Sir. We definitely want to pass our classes Mr. Hathaway," Ivy said seriously. "Hopefully you won't expel us by then," she included. She laughed and Mr. Hathaway joined in.

The two instantly hit off – apparently, Ivy's aunt was a very good friend of Mr. Hathaway's. As I stood on the sidelines, my gaze shifted over to Mr. Hathaway's briefcase. Boy, did he have a lot of papers. It was jam packed, yellow folders all cramped in his Prada case. I was beginning to ask Ivy if she was still willing to go to the library before I caught the word Billings on a lone folder. My heart instantly thudded. My eyes zeroed in on the file, just itching to get the folder out of there. Upon further inspection, I realized that folder was the largest one in the bunch. Something wasn't right.

"Hello, earth to Reed. Hello," Ivy said, moving her hand back and forth in front of my face. I snapped out of my gaze, my heart failing to stop beating like crazy.

"Reed? Are you OK?" she asked, concerned. My fleeting eyes instantly went over to Mr. Hathaway's, trying to capture his gaze. He looked perfectly normal.

"What's in the Billings folder?" I blurted out. Automatically, my hand went over to my mouth, clamping it shut. Mr. Hathaway's warm eyes instantly turned icy while Ivy shrank about two feet. He clutched his briefcase, snapping the thing shut. What?

"Nothing of your concern, Miss Brennen," he said briskly. His jaw ticked a little, his handsome face a mask of cool. "Now, if you'll excuse me ladies, I need to attend some business." He nodded briefly in our direction before he headed off, back to where he left from – his office.

Whoa. What the hell just happened?

"W-we should go, I guess. Coming, Reed?" Ivy toyed with the straps on her shoulder, nervously looking at me. Her face was slightly pale. Then all of a sudden, a memory came crashing down on me.

"Josh, it will be OK. Trust me when I say that. Everything will be fine."

"Even you said it was for the better, right? You agreed with them. Just relax; please."

I had a feeling Josh, Ivy, Mr. Hathaway, and the Billings folder had something to do with Billings getting torn down.

And it definitely wasn't a good feeling.


yeah, a filler. but there's a mystery, so i guess it's ok. :)

it's late. i think i'm going to watch hurt locker. seems pretty good. you guys know the drill. and by the way, all mistakes are by me, so, sorry. didn't feel like revising it.