DJ walked around and looked, but it did seem that every trace of her had been removed from the room. “You okay with this, Casey?” she asked. “We didn’t have a chance to warn you.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. You snore anyway, DJ.”

“I do not.”

“You do too. Sometimes anyway.” Casey actually smiled now. “I think it was nice of you to do the switcheroo. Hopefully Taylor won’t put a hex on you in your sleep.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“You going to be okay?” asked Rhiannon with concern.

DJ forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll be praying for you,” promised Rhiannon.

“Thanks. Maybe you have a crucifix you can loan me…”

“Huh?” Rhiannon looked confused.

DJ made a cross out of her two forefingers, as if warding off a vampire or evil spirit. “You know, to keep the devil girl at bay.”

“Just scream if you need help,” said Casey. “We’ll rescue you.”

“Thanks.” Then DJ told them good night and—feeling like she was going to meet her executioner—walked into what still felt like Taylor’s room.

“Ever heard of knocking?” asked Taylor, who was sitting in the window seat and just lighting up a cigarette.

“Do you knock before you come into your own room?” demanded DJ.

Taylor shrugged then blew out a long puff of blue smoke.

“Open a window, would you?” said DJ irately.

“Afraid of a little second-hand smoke, are we?” But at least she cranked open the window behind her.

“If you had any sense you would be too. And don’t forget the rules, Taylor.”

“Glad you could make it home tonight, roomie.” Taylor was using a phony-sounding cheerful tone. “Although it’s past curfew—not that you’d forget the rules.”

DJ looked around the room and sighed. Her new home. Whoopee. She checked her side of the closet and some drawers.

“Everything in its place?”

DJ ignored Taylor as she took out her faded pajama bottoms and a tank top, her usual sleeping gear. At least Rhiannon had done a nice job of putting her things away for her. But then these rooms were outfitted fairly much the same, so she’d probably just emptied one drawer into another. Still, it was thoughtful. But then again that was Rhiannon—thoughtful.

“You’re not much fun tonight,” said Taylor. “Here I was all excited about my new roomie, and you’re acting like your grumpy old self again.”

“Look,” said DJ. She was fed up with Taylor’s endless teasing and game-playing. “It’s not like I’m thrilled to be your roommate, Taylor. But we might as well try to make the best of it.”

“Hey, that’s what I’ve been trying to do. You’re the one who keeps acting all snotty and mean to me, like you’re so much better than I am. Miss Superiority Complex.”

“Like you should talk.”

“What exactly is your problem anyway?” demanded Taylor. She snuffed out her cigarette and then stood up, putting both hands on her hips and just staring. “It’s like you’re always in a snit about something or other. Don’t you know how to let things go?”

“Not when I’m still ticked at you for stealing Bradford from Rhiannon.”

“Here we go with that stupid stealing Bradford theory again. First of all, just how does one steal a boyfriend anyway? Is that even possible? You make it sound like Bradford is some helpless victim. Don’t you think he has a choice in this? All I’ve done is be myself. I can’t help it if Bradford likes me. Can’t you get over it, DJ?”

“No, I can’t.” She shook her finger at Taylor. “Speaking of victims, tell me, Taylor, why is it okay for you to act like you’re this helpless femme fatale, and you can’t help that anything in pants falls head over heels in love with you.”

Taylor laughed, but it was a cold, harsh laugh. “Is that what you think I do?”

“You’ve said as much.”

“Yeah, right!”

“Okay then, what was up with you inviting Bradford to the movie? Then you don’t even tell anyone. And Rhiannon is so crushed when she sees him that she can’t even watch the movie. Tell me that wasn’t some really tasteless, cruel joke.”

“Me?” Taylor looked honestly indignant now. “You’re accusing me of inviting Bradford tonight?” She really was an excellent actress, and she probably would end up getting the lead part in the musical.

“Are you saying you didn’t invite Bradford? Or that you didn’t include Harry and Conner to create a little smoke screen?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“You honestly expect me to believe it?”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a rip whether you believe me or not.” Taylor started getting ready for bed. “I’ve had more than enough of you for one night, DJ. If this is any indicator of what rooming with you is going to be like, I might just beg Rhiannon to come back.”

“Like she even would.”

“She probably would.” Taylor glared at DJ. “Because even though Rhiannon is totally naïve, at least she’s nice. Unlike some people who go around falsely accusing others and acting like they’re so superior.”

“Taylor,” demanded DJ, “who else would’ve invited Bradford?”

“I thought maybe you did.” Taylor turned her back now, removed her shirt and her bra, and slipped on a silky pink nightshirt.

“Yeah, right.”

“Maybe Rhiannon did?” Taylor still had her back to DJ as she put her clothes away.

“Get real.”

“Then it had to be Eliza, because it wasn’t me.”

“You swear you didn’t invite Bradford?”

Taylor turned around and narrowed her eyes at DJ now. “If I want to swear, I’ll swear until the cows come home. But I’m not going to let you push me around, DJ. If you want to blame me, fine. I really don’t give a rip.” Then Taylor stomped off into the bathroom and slammed the door.

DJ knew she should just let it go, but she couldn’t stand the idea of Taylor messing with people and then lying and expecting to get away with it. It just wasn’t fair. There seemed one easy way to settle this. She went to Eliza’s room and tapped on the door. To her surprise, it was already dark.

“Sorry,” she said as she poked her head in.

Eliza turned on the bedside lamp and sat up. “It sounds like World War III out there. What is going on anyway?”

“I need to know something,” DJ whispered. “Rhiannon and I switched rooms. And Taylor and I are already having a great big fight. She totally denies inviting Bradford here tonight. I know that I didn’t. And Rhiannon sure didn’t. And neither did Casey. I figured if I talked to you guys, I could nail her and—”

“Taylor didn’t invite Bradford,” said Eliza.

“She didn’t?”

“No…I did.”

DJ frowned. “Why?”

“Oh, I had this half-baked idea of trying to get Rhiannon and Bradford back together. I talked to him after drama and told him how brokenhearted she was, and he actually seemed to care. I invited him here just so he could at least be nice to her, maybe cheer her up. And then she runs off and disappears.”

“And he cozies up with Taylor.”

“Yeah, it kind of backfired on me.”

“Are you guys about done?” demanded Kriti in a cranky voice. “Some of us would like to get some sleep around here.”

“Good night,” said DJ, quietly closing the door behind her.

She stood in the hallway for a few minutes trying to wrap her head around this little dilemma. Wasn’t this just perfect? Her first night rooming with Taylor and she’d falsely accused her. Did this mean she had to apologize now? That just seemed so wrong.