The Ivies - Alexa Donne Page 0,75

even though my every instinct is telling me to turn tail and run.

“So, Harvard. Congrats.” Avery’s words crackle with barely contained rage.

Shit, fuck, dammit. How?! I want to grab the paper from her, but my hands are shaking.

“It’s complicated” is all I can manage.

“You lied.” Avery’s teeth are clenched tight. Margot and Sierra shift almost imperceptibly, but I see it. They angle in tighter to Avery. Margot’s eyes go hard. Bear trap activated. Sierra bites her lip and avoids eye contact. It’s them against me.

“I can explain.” My voice is getting smaller. Quieter. I don’t want everyone to see this, to hear it. It’s lunchtime, and what’s left of the student body seems to all be here, heading toward the dining hall. My shoulders itch under their stares. I know all eyes are on me. I’m gripping the straps of my backpack so hard that my knuckles have gone white.

“Go ahead. Explain,” Avery’s challenge rings out.

And suddenly, years of frustration and not speaking my mind, kowtowing to Avery and the Claflin status quo and what everyone else wants and expects, rise up inside me. They lied straight to my fucking face. Excluded me at every turn. I burst.

“Harvard was my dream school, too, you know. You don’t own it. I always wanted to go there, which I told you. But you made me pick another school. Because everything, always, is about you.”

“You were totally fine with Penn,” Avery says in defense. “You acted like you were okay with it. How was I supposed to know? I can’t read your mind.”

“You didn’t notice because you didn’t want to. You are myopically selfish.”

“Ooh, SAT word,” Avery snaps back. “Too bad that didn’t help you get a higher score.”

Sierra sucks in a breath, and Margot looks at the floor.

“Do you really want to be bringing up SAT scores with me, considering…? Emma even gave you a discount.” I let it hang. I’m vague enough that everyone here doesn’t know the big secret, but Avery and Margot know I’ve got their number. Avery appears unshaken. She smirks.

“Jealous? But then again, you clearly didn’t need a good SAT score to nab that spot at Harvard. I’m betting you gave them a sob story in your essay. How hard it is to go to school with so many rich kids. Break out the tiny violins.”

I snort. A literal snort. “Like you wrote about all those inspirational Haitian children?” That has her bristling, cheeks going red. Sierra shifts beside her, just so. Away. “Maybe I got into Harvard because I’m good enough and you aren’t.” Cards are out on the table now. “And you don’t get to be upset that I didn’t tell you. Look what happened to Emma when she told you. You acted like a psycho bitch. Are you really surprised I kept it a secret?”

“Fine.” Avery’s mouth is tight. Her eyes flash with heat. “I’m a bitch. Okay. But lying to my face about Penn, working on RD essays with me—that makes you the bad person.” She jabs her finger in the direction of my chest. I rock back on my heels even though she’s feet away from me. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am applying to other places RD,” I shoot back. Avery can call me a lot of things, but not a liar. “Unlike all you rich assholes, I have to. There’s no college fund for me. I need to compare scholarship offers. Harvard gapped me.”

“Oh, boo-hoo, you’re poor.” She mimics drying her eyes. “God, you never stop complaining about that.”

“Is that why I was left off the Rich Bitches group text, then? By the way, great job deleting that off a dead girl’s phone. Evidence tampering is such a good look.”

My words are a tsunami, knocking back every single Ivy a step.

It all comes to me in a rush, that Sierra must have grabbed Emma’s phone and deleted the text. She was the only Ivy who had access to the body before the cops got there. Probably did it while I called 911. And the backup only gave me older messages. Who knows what texts she deleted? Evidence against one of them, or all of them.

“I knew it. You’ve been snooping around like some asshole Nancy Drew,” Avery hisses. “Or what? You’re trying to win a Pulitzer or something?” She rips the Ledger in half, as if to demonstrate how ridiculous the notion is.

“I knew you were pumping me for information.” Margot bristles. Like I’ve really put her