Carson seems taken aback by my bluntness. “Right here?”
Small crowds have gathered around us now, and I don’t know whether surviving several shaming rituals in the last month has toughened me up a bit, but I actually don’t even care who witnesses this exchange.
“Why not? You’ll probably sell your story again and all of these people will find out all the gritty little details anyway, so it might as well be public.”
He shoots me a genuinely pained expression, wincing like I’ve punched him in the kidneys. “I didn’t sell you out. I promise. You gotta believe me.”
“No? So how’d the Enquirer get those screenshots?” I’m starting to yell now, and the corridor is quieter than it’s ever been so my words echo around the lockers.
He almost whispers, “It wasn’t me, okay? Like I say, someone must’ve hacked my phone and screwed me over for a quick buck. I’m not like that, Izzy. I wouldn’t do that to you. Or Ajita. I would never.?”
Something in the way he’s clenching his fists and staring at me so urgently tells me he’s desperate for me to believe him. And as someone who has also recently had her phone hacked and its contents leaked, I’m aware it’s a thing that can happen, even in a tiny, pointless high school.
I remember the way he acted in the days after the website was made. He didn’t treat me any differently, didn’t talk to me with any less respect. He was sweet and reassuring and gracious.
And the way he is with his mom and siblings. The guy I saw looking out for his family is not a guy who would willingly ruin my life.
And I really, really want to believe him. Because my list of people who aren’t weapons-grade douchebags is getting hella short.
When I don’t say anything for a moment, he adds, “And you know I would never, ever call you a whore. Not even if they paid me a million dollars.”
I smirk despite the situation. “Well, that’s just dumb, Carson. A million dollars would solve both of our financial problems forever. I’d let you brand the word ‘whore’ on my ass cheek for a million dollars.”
“That could be arranged!” someone jeers from a few feet away.
Another snarks, “Let’s crowd-fund that shit!”
Everyone laughs.
This next part I say more quietly. “You didn’t stand up for me.”
“What?” he says, matching my soft tone. He steps forward, closing the gap between us. He looks like he might take my hands, but decides against it, leaving his to curl at his sides. “When?”
“In the hallway. When Baxter and your other teammates were discussing the pictures. ‘If you’re giving it away for free, ain’t nobody gonna pay for it.’”
His face falls. “You heard that?”
“It’s all I’ve heard for weeks.”
“Oh God.” He closes his eyes. “I should’ve said something. I nearly did. I just hate confrontation, you know? Makes me sick. But it’s not an excuse. I should’ve told them to shove it, and I’m so sorry I didn’t.” He opens his eyes again, running a hand over the buzz-cut hair on the back of his neck. “You gotta believe me, though. I had nothing to do with that article. I was as shocked and disgusted as you were, I promise.”
A thought dawns on me. “Hey, the . . . person who made the World Class Whore website knew we were texting.” I remember Danny flinging my phone across Ajita’s basement and storming out. It all fits. “He would’ve known to hack your iCloud account and read your messages. Probably thought I’d sent you a nude too.”
Carson raises an eyebrow hopefully. “So you believe me?”
Random people start shouting, “Believe him!” and, “How can you resist that face?” and “What the hell is going on here? Why are none of you in second period?” [I think this last one was Mr Cheung, which is one hundred percent justified.]
I pause for dramatic effect before replying, “I’m thinking about it.”
Dimples form in his smooth brown cheeks, like they always seem to when he’s smiling at me.
He mumbles, “Yeah? So, uh . . . what about that pizza sometime? Cos I’m kinda tired of us pretending we’re not into each other.”
The dumb part of my heart that inconveniently fell for his puppylike nature all those weeks ago flutters.
“Who says I’m pretending?” I smile. “But I never say no to pizza.”
4.56 p.m.
Ajita orchestrates a meeting between Danny and me in the woods after school.
She bids me farewell at the gates saying, “Good luck, old buddy old pal. Meet you in the diner in a half-hour? There’ll be a s’mores milkshake waiting for you.” A coy smile. “Oh, and Meg’s coming too.”
For the second time today, my stone heart melts. I love my friends. The old ones and the new ones. The real ones, who don’t make websites condemning me to an eternity in hell just because I’m not attracted to them.
Danny doesn’t know that I know, so he unsuspectingly shows up to our usual clearing with a look of casual indifference about him. That’s about to change, because I’m going to come raining down on him harder than a monsoon in, well, monsoon season.
I step out from behind a tree like a Bond villain revealing themselves. [It’s probably quite clear that I have not watched many Bond movies, but I assume this is the sort of thing that happens.]
Before he has a chance to even blink, I launch my attack. “It was you. You started that website. It was you.?”
I don’t have to force the venom into my voice. I just remember how low I felt after that screenplay email, before Meg messaged me, before I finally asked for help . . . and the anger comes rushing back.
“Izzy, I –”
“No! You don’t get to talk. You’ve done enough damage, and there’s nothing you can say to make this better. ?Nothing. You know there’s a term for what you’ve done to me, right? Revenge porn. It’s illegal in the UK, and it’s becoming more and more illegal here. State by state, they’re cracking down. It might not be against the law here yet, but it will be. Soon. And personally? I hope to God you pay for this.”
He says nothing, staring at me without emotion. Remorseless.
“Are you hearing me?” I’m almost crying. “You nearly ruined my life, Danny. Did you know that I’ve been kicked out of the screenplay competition? Did you know Betty is being attacked by journalists and politicians every day? Did you know that now, when I walk down the street, it’s so excruciating knowing how many strangers have seen me naked that I just want to disappear? Did you know that on Saturday night, after it felt like I’d lost everything, I genuinely wanted to not be here anymore?”
He drops his backpack to the ground and leans back against a tree, finally letting a crack of emotion show on his face.
I keep going. “You broke into Carson’s phone, and you leaked those messages. ?You pretended to be him, and you spoke to a journalist. ?You allowed Ajita’s sexuality to be revealed to the world because, why? Bitterness? I don’t get it. Why would you do this? Why would someone who claims to love me want to systematically ruin my life? Have you enjoyed it, seeing me in this much pain?”
He still doesn’t say anything, just rubs his face with his hands, looking like he might throw up.
I scoff, throwing my hands up in the air, letting my voice rise above the trees. “Or was that your goal all along? To annihilate my sense of self-worth so that I’d collapse into your arms and beg you to fix me?” I raise my voice and scream so loudly a flock of birds fly away from a nearby tree. “You nearly killed me! Is that what you wanted?”
This gets a reaction. He pushes off the tree trunk and flies toward me so fast I actually recoil.