“You know what you should do?” I stand, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
Fig frowns. “What?”
“Mind your own damn business.”
I flounce out of there before he can say anything else, shock coursing through me at the way I just told off a teacher. How I actually cursed at him. I never do that.
I never say bad words. It’s like I spend a little time with Crew and I’m changing. Becoming stronger. Finding my voice.
I think I like it.
I race to my second period class, falling into my chair in record time, my hands shaking as I pull the paperback out of my backpack and crack it open to find the folded note inside. With trembling fingers, I open it, my gaze trying to decipher his bold, messy writing.
Don’t let anyone read this. Last night after you went inside, I saw Figueroa drop off Natalie in the parking lot. I confronted her about it and she got mad. Tried to attack me. That’s what happened when we were caught. I wasn’t hooking up with her. She’s hooking up with Fig. Don’t believe the rumors. I’ll tell you more at lunch. Please believe me.
PS – I can’t stop thinking about you and that Blow Pop.
A tiny smilecurls my lips and I shove the note back between the pages of The Great Gatsby, then put the book away in my backpack.
I believe him. I have to. There’s no way he could do everything that he did with me, and then get with Natalie immediately afterward. I just—I can’t even wrap my head around it.
It’s like my brain won’t let me.
I pass through the rest of the morning in a haze. Always searching for Maggie—she still hasn’t texted me back—or trying to tune out the rumors about Crew and Natalie. They’re rampant.
It’s all anyone can talk about.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m an internal mess, trying to keep it together. Still no Maggie to be found. I’m supposed to meet Crew and I’m scared to hear what he has to say, but there’s no way I’m not meeting with him.
I have to see him. I need reassurance.
As I’m leaving my fifth period class, I spot Natalie in the hall, our gazes locking for the briefest moment, hers knowing. That devilish smile on her face, as if she’s aware she’s messed up my world and there’s no coming back from it.
And she really doesn’t care.
I look away from her first, hating that I gave in, but I don’t want to have a confrontation in the hall with her that everyone would witness. That’ll make everything even worse.
Gosh, I really, really don’t like her.
Heading outside, I tuck my coat around me, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one’s paying attention to where I’m going. But it’s so cold, everyone is pretty much in the dining hall, where I wish I was too.
Or maybe not.
Honestly, I wish I could run away from this place and never look back. Preferably with Crew by my side.
I walk behind the building where I found Crew and his friends doing drugs, and that moment seems like such a long time ago. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, it’s overwhelming.
I come to a stop when I see Crew standing there, his back to me, his face tilted toward the sky. He turns, as if he can sense I’m behind him, and then as if I have no control, I’m running toward him, his arms going wide as I practically throw myself at him. He holds me close, his mouth at my forehead, his hard, hot body warming the chill I haven’t been able to shake since I woke up this morning to Maggie knocking on my door.
“Birdy, you’re shaking,” he murmurs against my temple, just before he kisses it.
I melt against him, closing my eyes, savoring how tight he’s holding me. “Everything is a mess.”
“I know. But we have options.” He slips his fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face up. “We either ignore it and wait for another scandal to replace this one or…”
I frown, hating that option. “Or what?”
A sigh leaves him. “Or I expose Figueroa publicly and tell everyone he was with Natalie last night."