My stomach bottoms out and my hand clenches the door handle. I recognize the second voice as Fiona Davidson, another cheerleader.
“Where did you hear that?” Syd asks, not denying it.
Please deny it.
Please.
“Regina Beckwith told me in second period. She said someone saw you get into Reyn’s Jeep last night after practice. And then he comes to school today with a hickey!”
I feel a little better then, knowing they’re talking about my mark. I’d put it on him in the Stairway. The relief is short-lived, though.
“Well,” Syd says teasingly, “he did give me a ride home.”
“And?!” Fiona’s chomping at the bit.
“And I may have invited him to hang out in the hot tub as a thank you.”
“Oh my god. You were in a hot tub with Reyn? He’s so fucking sexy.”
“Mmhmm,” she replies.
“Tell me everything.”
“Oh, come on, Fi, you know I’m not one to kiss and tell.”
Sydney is literally one to kiss and tell. She’s one to kiss and shout. She’d kiss and hire a fucking skywriter. I feel like throwing up.
“Reyn was a gentleman,” I hear the smile in her voice, “but let’s just say he was concerned about the bruises I got at practice and wanted to make sure I was okay.”
“That nasty one on your inner thigh?”
A tight fist constricts my lungs, stealing my breath, and god, this hurts. I’ve experienced a lot of pain in my life, but nothing is like the razor-sharp blade of anguish that buries itself into my stomach right now.
“Yep.”
She dissolves into giggles, and I bolt from the room, trying to keep the bile from rising in the back of my throat. The hallway is jam-packed and my slow entry into the stream of walkers is halted and awkward, causing me to slam into the back of another student. His shoulders throw back. “Watch it!” he shouts, spinning around and throwing his arms out. The action forces his hand into the books I’m carrying, flinging them across the hall and knocking me against the lockers. It might hurt, but I can’t feel anything besides this stomach-churning sickness. He’s still yelling. “God damn it, if one more underclassman rams into me in the hallway, I’m gonna—”
His words cut short and I think it’s because he’s realized it’s me—the poor crippled girl—but then I see the large hand on his shoulder yanking him harshly back. I see the tuft of blond hair next.
“You’re going to what?” Sebastian asks, palm slamming hard into the guy’s shoulder. “What the fuck were you going to say, Pierce?” His eyes are hard as stone as he steps up to him. Pierce, whoever he is, looks like he may wet his pants. So do some of the guys inching around them, even though I can see the anticipated buzz on their faces. Sebastian icily challenges, “Well? Go on, I’m dying to hear it.”
“N-n-nothing,” he says, glancing over at me, awareness finally dawning on him. He looks around desperately, but Sebastian just smiles, sharp and cutting, like this is the best day of his life. Pierce swallows. “Nothing, dude. I swear.”
“Apologize to my friend.” His gaze darts to mine and I know he sees the tears in my eyes, completely unaware that I’m not hurt—not physically. My heart is aching, betrayal lodged like barbed wire in my throat. Sebastian adds, “You’re going to want to speak up, fuckwit. Enunciate clearly. And trust me when I say it’d better be sincere as hell.”
Pierce turns haltingly, like he’s afraid looking away from Sebastian will tempt him to pounce. From the look on Sebastian’s face—cheerily murderous—he’s right to be wary. “I’m sorry. I know it was an accident. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
“Everyone clear the hall!” Dr. Ross’s authoritative voice fills the corridor. No one wants to be the subject of her wrath, so the crowd disperses quickly. “Mr. Wilcox, I know you aren’t involved in any kind of hallway altercation.”
“No ma’am,” he says, posture and face shifting to perfect politeness. The southern drawl slides back into place. “Just looking out for my fellow classmates.”
Her dark eyes meet mine. “Ms. Hall, are you okay?”
No. Yes. No. I manage a jerky nod. Her eyebrow arches and I grind out, “Yes ma’am.”
Sebastian walks over, having collected my books from the floor. “I’ll make sure she gets to class,” he says to Dr. Ross, and for some reason, she seems satisfied leaving me in the care of a possible psychopath. The weird thing is that I’m okay with it, too.
I follow him, only halfway aware when he pushes open the girls' bathroom door and leads me inside.