—
Wednesday I sucked up the courage to go to class even though I knew Noah would be there.
I kept my head down with my hair acting as a shield as everyone entered the auditorium, convinced they all somehow knew who I was and what I’d done.
Mason sat next to me, tapping his pen on his desk in a steady rhythm. I glanced at him when his beat suddenly stopped.
“Whoa, dude’s got a black eye.”
“Who?” I peeked around and saw Noah walk in. His glasses covered a little of it, but a purple crescent peeked under the black frames and along the bridge of his nose. He shifted and I noticed his lip looked swollen too.
“Someone kicked his ass.” Mason chuckled. “Maybe one of the girls he screwed over got a little payback. Might be a few angry boyfriends out there. Even if the school ignores this, I bet a whole lot of other people won’t. Maybe these assholes will get what they deserve after all.”
Chapter Sixteen
After class, Mason and I walked to the coffee shop. He’d ordered our drinks and we leaned against the counter in the back while they worked on them.
“What do you want to do this weekend?” Mason had pretty much stayed by my side for the last twenty-four hours. I think he suspected a psychotic breakdown.
“Besides hide my head in shame?”
“It’s going to be fine.” Mason pulled out his phone. “Do you have plans with your grandma for spring break?”
“No, she’s visiting her sister. I think her health scare made her want to get away on a little vacation, and spend more time with family she doesn’t get to see often enough.”
“So you’ll be home with your mom?”
My shoulders tensed just thinking about it. “That’s the plan.”
Mason shook his head as if refusing to accept that. “We should go somewhere for spring break. Like the beach. We can find someone looking to split a rental.”
Anything would be better than a week of Mom, even in my depressed state. “I guess.”
Mason perked up and started talking about the trip. I glanced around for an empty table. With only one girl working, our drinks were going to take a while. And that’s when I saw him.
Ryder sat in the corner, his gaze locked on me. He must have noticed me when I walked in and had been watching me the whole time.
At the table with him was his sister, Paige. She had a pile of papers in front of her. She gave me a smile that looked more sympathetic than friendly, then said something to Ryder.
He shook his head and looked down, then raised his gaze back to me. Under his left eye was a cut and tiny bit of swelling. With a forced effort, I turned away.
The barista called out Mason’s and my names and I snagged our cups, shoved Mason’s in his hand and muttered, “Let’s go.”
“What’s wrong?” He looked around. “Oh.” He placed his hand on my back and led me out the door.
“Who was that girl? It’s the same one from the restaurant, right?”
“His sister, Paige.” I sipped my coffee. “Did you notice the cut on his face?”
“No. Why?”
“Looked like he got in a fight.”
“Like Noah?”
“Exactly.”
—
When I woke Thursday, I couldn’t manage to get out of bed. I stared at the ceiling and wished I had a time machine that could take me back to before this all started. I’d return to the night of that first party and tell Mason we couldn’t go. God, how different my life would be if I hadn’t been there that night.
Fallon walked in right then, carrying two cups of coffee. She smiled and I groaned.
“Even coffee can’t make today a good day,” I said.
“I think it can when you hear what I have to say.”
“Last time you had something to say, it pretty much ruined my life, so on that note…”
“The story was pulled.”
“What?” I bolted upright.
“Yeah. Mel texted me sometime last night while I was sleeping. She said the story was canceled. Here’s the paper.” She tossed it in my lap. “It’s not there, and I checked online. There’s nothing there either. I don’t know how or why, but the story didn’t run.”
“Did they maybe just change the publishing date?”
“Nope. I called Mel this morning and she said the story won’t run and they’d all signed some sort of confidentiality waiver.”
“Seriously? Over this?” I flipped through the paper. “I don’t get it.”
“I don’t either but, point is, the story is dead.”
“Wait? What about the website? Is it still running?”
“Nope. It gives an error message when you try to pull it up.”