The Ivies - Alexa Donne Page 0,74

ACT is a valid school ID. And I handed Emma the keys to the castle.

Is this why Emma became my friend? Why she suggested we move in together? To keep an eye on me, her mark?

And she took the test for Avery and Margot. They both knew. Laughed at me behind my back, I’m sure. Rich bitches, indeed.

I scan the list three times just to be sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. But no. Sierra’s not there. Thank god. I need one of my friends not to be a total garbage human. But Avery and Margot. And Emma, of course. I fucking hate them. The whole time I was struggling, Emma was handing our fellow Ivies scores in the mid-1500s. For the sweet price, friend discount, of 10K and 15K, respectively.

I can’t believe my friends sank so low.

I piece together how she must have done it. There are Claflin-specific SAT and ACT days on campus. So she couldn’t possibly take the test for someone else at school, not with faculty as proctors. Thus, all the national test dates. I scan the location column, town names from all over Massachusetts jumping out at me. She must have driven to places where she wouldn’t be recognized.

But that only explains the girls on the list. Since there are boys, too, Emma didn’t pull this scam off alone. She had to have a male test-taker. I check the spreadsheet again for any indication of a co-conspirator. What if he killed her? With the amount of money the scheme raked in, it would be a good motive. Off Emma, keep all the proceeds. I tally the money column. Over two hundred THOUSAND dollars. What. The. Fuck.

I might kill someone over that….

I screenshot the spreadsheet and text the image to Ethan.

I found what Emma was hiding. SAT scam. I have a new theory.

The Instagram logo winks up at me. I tap in, navigate to my DMs and to the thread with Kaila. She dropped every hint, I realize. That it was odd that Emma had been at the February ACT exam to poison Jason Wang. And she was dating Tyler, she’d said. I type a message.

Emma was running an SAT scam and Tyler was her male test-taker, right? I found her secret spreadsheet, and she had a copy of my key for the room with the ID maker at the office in Austen. Is that why she became friends with me?

I have to stop myself before I word-vomit more of my thoughts and feelings into the thread. A door slams shut. Shit. Someone’s out there. Hastily I hop up, flip the light switch to stop light from spilling through the crack under the door. With nothing but the screen’s illumination to guide me, I download a copy of the spreadsheet and email it to myself, making sure to delete the sent email from the cloud, just in case.

I think about Cataldo finding Emma’s tracker. The FBI. Should I delete it, protect Emma’s memory and the college admissions chances of everyone involved? Does Emma even deserve it? Do any of the cheaters on her list?

My finger hovers over the delete command. I do have a copy of the spreadsheet now….

Deleting evidence echoes in my mind. I can’t. If I’m lucky, the FBI will miss it. Assume Emma was really into charity.

My phone vibrates, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Ethan’s texted back: Are you sure? Meet me in the atrium ASAP.

I slam the laptop shut and shove everything back onto the shelf. Peek my head around the corner and see that Cathy is blessedly not back yet. I make a break for the main door and walk on autopilot. I text Ethan.

Here early. I’ll grab a table.

I don’t notice the hush that has fallen in the atrium. I look up to find a few dozen eyes on me. What the—?

And then I see the Ivies. What’s left of us, anyway. Avery, Margot, and Sierra are holding court in front of the dining hall, arms folded over their chests. They’re a human chain of grim disapproval. Avery breaks form, reaching to retrieve something from the table behind her. She whips it forward, pulling the pages of the Claflin Ledger taut so I can see the front-page spread. A story about Emma is above the fold. And below that is the college acceptances feature that throws to an inside page for the full list.

“Uh, hi?” I say,