Page 80

It's too generous. And not fair, of course. This is the exact opposite of me facing the consequences of my actions. I can't let her do it.

"Actually, Mrs. Reynolds," I say, thinking fast, "one of the reasons why we decided we shouldn't live together anymore is... I'm just not cut out for the Rosalinds."

"Really?" She raises two dark, well-plucked eyebrows. "But this year's events have been some of the best we've ever had."

"That's because of Holly," I say, which is true. Even though I've had my own share of fun with the Rosalinds, and the last thing I want is to leave, the group has always been Holly's responsibility. "I just don't think I can pass my classesandstay committed to the group at the same time. So I'm the one who should move out. It wouldn't be fair to Holly for her to try to run the dorms from some other location."

Mrs. Rosalind faces Holly. "Is this amenable to you?"

For the first time since the meeting began, Holly looks over at me. It squeezes my heart tight to meet her green eyes, after everything that's happened to past few days, but I'm glad I least that she doesn't look at me with complete disdain.

"I was going to move off campus, but... it would be harder to run the Rosalinds if I don't live here anymore. I guess Brenna can move to the room underneath the stairs," she says, making me feel like I'm in some kind of Charles Dickens novel. "It's that or the Coleridge Center rooms, and those are basically a health hazard at this point."

Taking us both in, Mrs. Reynolds nods her head decisively. "Very well. Brenna, you'll be in room 200. It's beneath the stairs, as Holly said, but it's more than enough space for one girl."

"Thank you."

It's going to beveryunpleasant to live underneath the stairs, with girls constantly going up and down them, but it's more than I deserve. I shoot Holly a grateful glance, but she isn't even looking my way anymore, and doesn't acknowledge me.

This is the fallout of what I've done.

I should be grateful it isn't worse, but instead I find myself worried that this is just the beginning of my downfall. There's so much further I can fall from here.

Chapter 42

He's gone. That's what everyone is saying when I go to dinner in Rosalind's dining hall, after moving all my things into the cramped room beneath the stairs, with its low ceiling and creaky floorboards.

Cole Masterson has left Coleridge. To live off campus, take a break, or drop out for good, no one knows. But somehow, despite the fact that it's only been a few hours since I overheard Holly breakup with him, he's just... vanished without a trace. His stuff is gone from Hadley Hall, and no one is saying for how long—especially the Elites.

Chrissy is in the dining hall, sitting at a table with Tricia and Sasha. They glance up at me as I grab a tray of food and stand nearby, hovering and uncertain.

Sasha asks, "Is it true? You quit the Rosalinds and moved out of your swanky room?"

I wait for her to mention what happened with the credit card, then just nod. "Yeah, it's true." Because no one has objected yet, I take a seat at the table. My stomach cramps as I stare down at my plates full of food; I've barely eaten the past two days, mostly resorting to scarfing down snacks in my room so I don't have to face anyone. "I'm going to live in the little room under the stairs."

"The broom closet?" Tricia's eyebrows raise. "I mean, technically that's not what it is, but..."

"It's not that bad." Grabbing a forkful of meatloaf off my tray, I take a bite and watch Chrissy surreptitiously. She's tearing her napkin into tiny little pieces in front of her, eyes cast down. "I actually think it might be nice to live alone. I mean, as long as it's not too uncomfortable in there. You can't really jump up and down on the bed without getting a concussion."

It's weird to say so much without Chrissy jumping in with one of her own thoughts, or a bit of gossip. Normally she can't talk enough. I don't know which of us is more mortifying—seeing her with Tanner, or hearing what she said about Cole's deaf little sister and discovering that I was wrong about her all along. Maybe there's an explanation, butshesounded like the bully, the way she talked.

"So." Tricia glances back and forth between me and Chrissy, while Sasha seems oblivious, as new to being folded into our stray group as she is. "The, uh, haunted house went really well. Everyone had fun."

"Mmm."

"But uh, at the end..." I feel panic rise up in my throat. This is it, this is the moment when they tell me that they know I'm a thief and imposter, and I'll lose what few friendships I have here. "I heard you and Holly had some kind of fight. And now she's broken up with Cole and everything."

Tricia clears her throat awkwardly; the other two aren't talking, so I guess she's the one elected to confront me about my misdeeds. "Brenna, did you... steal Cole from Holly or something?"

My eyebrows jump at her words. "What?No—no, god no. That's... not what happened."

"Then what happened?"

I'm at a loss to explain. It's so terrible I don't even know what to say. And if Holly didn't spill to everybody exactly what I did, then that means I have to explain. To do otherwise, to lie, would just dig my grave deeper.

The only thing is, I don't know how to face this. I came to Coleridge prepared to dive down in the mud and reveal people's sins. I just never expected that I would be the one to come back dirty and lost inside.

"I did something bad." Suddenly my appetite is gone again, and I find myself pushing my food around on my plate. "I uh..."