And I’m not the only one. The crowd is hushed as the projection shows a bedroom. The angle is weird, and it’s really dark while whoever was taking the video struggles to focus the camera on the bed, but the audio makes it very clear exactly what’s happening. There are some muffled sounds which become more distinct, recognizable as pleasure-filled moans. Oh, God. Yep, everyone, that’s me. Heat rushes to my face, burning me from the inside out. Can everyone else tell what’s happening? Because that’s most definitely the video recording of Micah going down on me.
My chest squeezes tighter the longer it runs. I sense people scrambling around us and hear intermittent shouts as people stumble in the dark, looking for the source of the projection.
The murmur through the crowd gets louder as the video focuses better. Two people are visible, though in shadow. One is lying on a bed, feet propped on the edge, and the other is kneeling, his head between her legs. Or rather, my legs. A tremor slides through me. Our faces aren’t on screen and the camera is far enough away that no one can see details, but our classmates are watching me lose my mind, writhing against Micah’s face. Do they know it’s us?
I think I’m going to throw up or maybe pass out. My whole body begins shaking and bile rises at the back of my throat. I shift, burying my face in his chest as I listen to myself cry out on the video. “Please. Please, Micah.”
Gasps fill the patio area, along with some amused laughter and some catcalls.
One asshole shouts, “Damn! Look at him go!”
“Yeah, Micah! Get it!”
Micah’s deep voice on the video comes across crystal clear. “I like you a little out of control. Begging.” Begging. Fuck me, that’s what Alora’s comment to me while I stood on the ladder had meant. I’d thought she was referring to me begging for her to stop shaking the ladder. She’d been referring to … this. If there had been any question at all, there isn’t anymore. That bitch did this.
There’s scuffling from behind us near the pool house where they must have located the projector. Then, from Beau, “It was stuck in the bushes. How the fuck do you turn this thing off?”
The next thing we know, Beau’s found the plug and has finally yanked it free of the socket. We’re dropped into darkness with only a few phone flashlights until someone finally has the sense to flip the house lights back on.
I feel Micah’s deep voice where my cheek is pressed to his chest through the Wookiee suit. “I’m so fucking sorry. Alora must have set that up before I kicked her out.”
And if she was gone already, that means she had help.
The exterior lights flip on, bathing the outdoor pool area in harsh light vastly different than the normal glow from the fairy lights. I shudder violently.
“I’m getting you out of here.” Micah lifts me into his arms, one looped around my back, the other under my legs. The murmurs that had started quietly are now reaching a crescendo.
I cringe. I don’t want to know how many people are staring at me, but if anyone hadn’t known it was me, I’m pretty sure they do now.
“That was so fucking hot.”
“Who was that with him?”
“Is it that Daphne girl? Wow, she’s not at all what I imagined.”
“Yeah, the one he’s carrying inside right now.”
“Who would do something like that?”
“How awful. I’d be mortified.”
Micah doesn’t wait to hear more. He hurries inside through the patio door and straight up to his room before sitting down on the bed with me. “I’m so fucking sorry, Daphne. I underestimated her. I knew she was crazy enough to do something, but I never thought she’d fucking plan that.”
He wipes at my cheeks with his fingers, getting rid of tears I didn’t realize had fallen. “Baby, what can I do?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Most of the junior and senior classes are here. News of what they saw is going to spread like wildfire.”
A tapping sound at the door makes us both jerk.
“Daphne? Micah? It’s me.” Scarlett’s voice comes to us muffled through the door.
Micah presses his lips to my forehead and gently shifts me onto the bed next to him. He strides across the room and pulls the door open.
Their quiet conversation barely reaches me. “Is she okay?” and “It was obviously Alora,” and “Did you know there was a video?” None of Micah’s responses are audible, either because he’s speaking in low tones or responding nonverbally.
The full force of what everyone has seen and heard hits me like a Mack truck. All of our friends were right there, watching. Our classmates… I think I really am going to throw up. Pushing off the bed, I race into Micah’s bathroom, drop to my knees, and empty the contents of my stomach. Two seconds later, as I’m trying to decide whether or not there’s another round about to exit, Scarlett kneels beside me, rubbing my back. She hands me a wet washcloth, and I realize Micah is standing in the doorway, watching. I groan as tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
Sitting back on my heels, I quietly murmur, “This may top my list of most embarrassing moments.” I exhale through pursed lips.