“Let’s get out of here,” I eventually say.
She unlocks the bathroom door and walks beside me all the way to my second class. I’m getting more attention by the second, and I hate it. Everyone stares. A guy steps in front of me and looks me up and down, then laughs. Like he’s judged me in two seconds and found me lacking.
I wince.
Willow grabs my hand and keeps pulling me along. “Ignore it.”
Easy for her to say. We part ways a half hour later, and I feel… marginally better. But the rest of the day is hell.
I slink into the library after my last class, intent on just getting through my work before going home. The only good thing is that most people don’t have my new number, and it’s been blissfully silent.
Greyson had to know this was going to happen. I’d be naïve to think he didn’t play a part in this. He spoke with the publicist after I left the room. He got his teammates to back him up.
Fucking hockey team.
I force myself to leave the dance girls alone. I don’t want to drag them down with me. In fact, they should all just pretend I don’t exist until it blows over.
Greyson wins this one.
“No one wants you here.”
I glance up from my laptop. A guy on the football team stands at the edge of my desk, his brow lowered in anger.
“You all take opinion as gospel, huh?”
He steps closer. “Are you calling me dumb?”
No, but you probably are.I smile sweetly at him, hiding my grinding teeth. “Never.”
He leans down in my space, forcing me to scoot back in my chair to put some distance between our faces. “You fuck with the team, you fuck with the whole school. Got it?”
“You should really get better lines.” I roll my eyes. “Go away.”
He sneers. “Just wait. Whore.”
He doesn’t see my flinch. He’s already turned away, striding down the stacks to get back to the main room. Stupid me, I shouldn’t have chosen an isolated desk. I was looking to get a reprieve from the stares.
Of course, I get accosted instead.
I finish my work quickly, but I can’t shake the unsettled feeling.
Whore. I never solved the mystery of who trashed my room. I thought it was the same person who was in my room the second time, but the more I think about it, the less it makes sense.
I flip my notebook open to a new page and start a list.
Greyson and I discovered that we were at school together my first night back. Before the semester had even officially begun. That same night, he gets a video of me drunkenly giving Jack a blow job.
Total mistake, by the way. I barely remember doing it. I think I would, because I like the thrills that go along with something like that. Almost getting caught. Well, obviously we did get caught. Did Jack notice them? Did he see Greyson film and not say anything?
Then, someone breaks into my apartment and trashes my room. They leave Willow’s room—and the rest of the place—alone. They writewhoreacross my wall of pictures. Most of my clothes were destroyed.
I suspected Greyson, but he never said anything about it. At all. He’d have found a way to rub it in my face by now.
The locker room incident was next, followed immediately by the second break-in.
Not long after that, an article comes out that included a picture I was sure I had on my wall. It was of my mom and I in front of the hospital, but we weren’t happy. Not the one on my Instagram, where we faked our smiles. I remember that giving me pause.
The article, featured in print and online, was taken down. I don’t know if the print copies were destroyed, but I do know that they were removed from campus. And maybe other places, too.