did any
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freshman talk to any upperclassman that way? And next victim? What was that about?
I looked around at the crowd still pouring through the doors. Several people who had been looking
at me looked away, and a few sophomore girls hanging out near the outer wall of the chapel
sneered in my direction. I saw Detective Hauer coming my way with a uniformed police officer and
my pulse froze in my veins.
Please. Not here.
They walked right by me. But that was when I heard the whispers.
"That's her."
"She totally did it."
"... capable of anything."
"Psycho whore, basically. That's what we should call her."
My heartbeat pounded in every inch of my body. These weren't the same scathing remarks I'd
been getting before Thanksgiving break. These were worse. Venomous. What was going on?
Just then Gage Coolidge slipped through the chapel doors and started past me. My hand shot out,
grabbing his leather-clad arm.
Gage paused, looked down at my hand like it was a leech, and slowly pulled his arm away. He
dusted off his designer coat like I'd left a trail of ants behind.
"Not cool," he said, looking past me. His handsome face was ruddy from the cold and his eyes
darted around as if concerned about who might see us together.
"Don't worry. This'll only take a second," I said, bravely squaring my shoulders. If there was anyone
on this campus who had no right
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to judge someone else based on their sexual escapades, it was Gage. Plus, he had always been
brutally honest. It was one of the only things I liked about him. And hated, depending on the
situation. "What the hell is going on? Everyone's looking at me like I'm about to blow up the
building."
"Funny!" Gage said. "Amazing how you can be funny right now, Brennan. They must've raised you
tough out on the farm."