“Did you just call me Nate the Snake?” He narrows his eyes at me.
I shrug. “Well, you know, since you boys like riddles so much.”
“Your mouth… it’s going to land your ass in hot water one day,” Nate replies, pulling into the school parking lot.
Walking into my first class, I instantly know something is wrong. The classroom falls silent as I open the door.
“Madison, you’re late again. Why am I not surprised?” Mr. Barron says, not lifting his eyes off his chalkboard.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Take a seat, Madison,” he replies blandly.
I shuffle to the back of the room, ignoring the hissing whispers that start bouncing off the walls. It’s almost like my first day all over again. I drop my books down onto an empty desk and slide into my seat. I don’t even have Tatum in this class to ask what all the stares are about.
Sinking into my chair, Felicia—I think her name is Felicia—who has black hair, black clothes, and black smudged eyeliner under her lashes, leans toward me, her eyes staying on the teacher, careful not to gain his attention. “Psst.”
I lean toward her slightly, just as my phone vibrates in my pocket. “What?”
“So is it true? You’re like, sleeping with all of them?”
I snap my eyes to her, my heart pitter-pattering in my chest. “What do you mean?”
She reaches into her pocket and then pushes a couple of buttons before turning the phone to face me, hitting Play on a video. The first part shows me and Nate and our embarrassing kiss in our living room, and then skips amateurishly to me and Bishop kissing and hugging at the campsite, before jumping to me and Brantley. And then it goes to Bishop and me having sex in the tent, showing my silhouette dropping my clothes, and the video doesn’t stop. You can hear me murmuring and whispering out my pleasures for everyone to see and hear, my body rocking over his through the shadow. At the end of the tape, a little black box comes up with pink writing:
“You’re next, bitch. Your days are numbered—just like mine were!”
“Oh my God!” I whisper, tears threatening to surface. Shoving my chair back, I catch Ally smirking from the front of the classroom.
“Madison!” Mr. Barron scowls at me. “Sit down, or I will have to refer you to the principal’s office.” Everyone looks at me, their laughs circling around me, echoing in a swirl, pounding through me.
“I… I’m—”
“A whore?” Ally sneers.
The whole classroom erupts into laughter, and I quickly gather my books, my hair falling over my face as I dash out the door and down the corridor.
“Hey!” Tatum comes crashing into me, her phone plastered to her ear and her eyes watering, looking around frantically. “Oh, thank God!”
“Tate?” I break, my tears pouring over my cheeks.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
I let her pull me under her arm as she takes me to the elevator. Slamming on the button vigorously until I’m sure she’s about to break it, the doors ding open and she pulls me in forcefully. Once the doors close, she swipes the tears off my face and kisses my lips. “It’s okay, Madi. It’s going to be okay,” she tries to reassure me, looking me in the eyes. “Goddammit, I’m going to kill that bitch!”
“Who?” I ask, swiping the tears off my face, as the door dings open again onto the underground parking.
“It was Ally, Madison. It may not have been her who recorded it, but she uploaded it onto her account on YouTube. She wanted people to think she did it.”
“Why?” I yell, following her to her car. “Why would she do this to me? Why?”
“Bishop, babe, it’s all for Bishop.”
“But the note at the end? About my days being numbered…?”
“Who knows?” Tatum unlocks her car, and I slip into the passenger seat as she slides into the driver seat. “But it was her, Madi.”
“I’m so embarrassed, Tate. I’ve never felt so humiliated in my life.”
“I know, babe. I know. Well, I don’t—but I can imagine.”
“Not helping.”
“Okay, totally not helping. I’ll take us back to my house if you’re not ready to face the Kings.”
I nod, swiping the tears again. “Sounds good, thank you, but can we quickly stop there and pick something up? I feel like I could do with the distraction.”
“No questions asked.” She pats my leg, driving out from the garage. “We will figure it out, okay?”
I nod again, trying to work out how exactly she thinks we’re going to figure it out. “Yeah, sure.”
Walking into Tatum’s high-class, modern home, I shut the door behind us, carrying a box of Krispy Kreme donuts and enough Carl’s Jr. to feed half a state.
“Feel a bit better?” she asks, smiling at me and flinging the keys onto a table.
“A little, but I haven’t had food yet. Ask me again after I’ve had enough carbs to impregnate me.”