‘What does it matter? Once it’s on the internet you can’t stop it from spreading. Look what happened to that Verity girl last year.’
The last person Zac wants to think about right now is Verity. ‘This is completely different. We don’t know the story behind that photo.’
‘Er, Zac, we can hazard a guess,’ Maddie interrupts. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t got a good idea?’
‘Stop it, Maddie,’ Zac cuts in. ‘It sounds like you’re on Jacinta’s side. Georgia’s your cousin, for Christ’s sake. What right does Jacinta have to plaster Georgia’s private property all over Facebook?’
‘Zac, you don’t understand,’ Maddie wails. ‘If I fight Jacinta over this, she’ll hate me. Everyone will hate me. I’ll be an outcast.’
‘So, you’re scared of her,’ Zac snaps, his words releasing a flare of sympathy before his anger snuffs it out. ‘She’s a bully, Mads. And you know the only way to beat a bully is to stand up to them. If you won’t, I will. Now, give me her address. I know she lives on Cheshire Way anyway, so if I have to knock on every door until I find her, I will.’
‘It’s number twenty-four,’ Maddie concedes. It sounds as though she’s trying not to cry. ‘I’m sorry, Zac. I promise you I didn’t mean this to happen.’
‘Text me her number as well, will you,’ he says, ignoring her apology. ‘And do me a favour and get some new friends. While you’re at it, make sure they deserve you. Your current clique make you look like a bit of a bitch.’
He hangs up, pulls on the first clothes he can find among the disarray on the floor, and grabs a hoodie. When he opens the door he can hear his dad and Georgia downstairs, and he wavers on the landing, before he sees Georgia’s door ajar, her mobile charging on the bedside table.
Take her phone, he says to himself. If you can stop Jacinta, and Georgia doesn’t see Facebook before then, she might never even know.
Bollocks, replies another voice in his head. Complete wishful thinking. Someone will share it sooner or later. Of course she’ll find out.
Nevertheless, he might be able to stop everything from imploding until after the race.
He detaches the cable and tucks the little device in his pocket. Then he considers his next move. He’d prefer to get out of the house without a raft of explanations, so he goes back into his room, opens his window and climbs onto the garage roof, shimmying his way down the drainpipe. This small act of bravery gives him courage – it’s almost like he’s gone Black Ops himself as he stealthily collects his bike from the side of the house and sets off through the woods.
Before he’s gone far, there’s a buzzing in his pocket. He stops, pulls out Georgia’s phone and sees that Sophia is calling. Surprised and guilty, he tucks it back into his pocket without answering.
On the bright side, he realises as he rides on, if Sophia is up to ringing Georgia, then it must mean she is feeling better today.
When he’s made it onto the paved track, he uses his own phone to text his mum, imagining the dogs and strobe lights that will come his way shortly if he doesn’t let her know he is okay. After last night she isn’t going to be happy that he’s left without a word, but that’s because she doesn’t know the bigger picture. If she did, she might just be grateful.
The thought of an unknown woman asleep in Georgia’s room is so bizarre that he would fear for his mother’s mental state if it hadn’t been for the hit-and-run, and Georgia acting so strangely and hiding bombshell photos in her diary. The way things are at the moment, he could believe just about anything.