And she makes money at that job?
My head was all over the place now, and I’d lost the calm from this morning. Usually my brain was like a warehouse. Take one box, open it, deal with it, and put it away before I deal with another box. Now all the goddamn boxes were open at the same time.
Was it so wrong to just want Tate on the back of my motorcycle forever and not want anything else?
I marched through the front office and yanked open the door leading out.
“Jared!” I heard my name yelled—no, bellowed—off to my left and turned to see Madoc stomping towards me.
My shoulders straightened immediately.
He looked pissed. His hair looked like he’d been combing his hands through it, and his lips were tight.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” he accused, and I braced myself for a punch that I was sure was coming for some reason.
What?
“What are you talking about?” If the counselor’s office was hot, I was in a frying pan now. I pulled the collar of my black hoodie away from my sweaty neck.
Holding up his phone next to his face, I grabbed it out of his hands and stared in horror as I watched a video of Tate and me having sex Homecoming night.
What?
My heart was jackhammering through my chest, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
Jesus.
Hot air poured in and out of my nose.
We were in the Beckman’s bedroom, and she was on top, completely fucking naked.
How the hell?
Madoc had this video.
He saw her like that.
My fists balled up, ready to slam him to the ground.
But… why would Madoc have this video?
And then another thought occurred to me.
“Who else has seen this?” I growled, ready to either throw up or thrown down.
“Um, everybody,” he spat out sarcastically. “You didn’t send this, then?”
“Of course I didn’t send this! We didn’t record a sex video. Jesus Christ!” I hollered and vaguely noticed students around us hauling ass outdoors when they should’ve been in class.
He looked down. “Well it came from your phone.” He spoke softer.
I closed my eyes. No, no, no…
“Tate might’ve got this video. Shit.” I started for the stairs, knowing she was on the third floor for French, but Madoc grabbed me by the inside of my elbow.
“Brother, she’s already gone.” He shook his head, and my stomach plummeted.
My phone was missing, and someone had sent a video of Tate and me to the whole damn school from my number.
“Jared!”
I turned and saw Sam running down the hall, jerking his thumb to the double doors leading outside.
“Tate’s trashing your car, man!” he shouted, breathless.
Madoc and I didn’t wait. We charged out the double doors only to see a crowd gathering around my Boss.
Tate.
I couldn’t see much, but I saw her swinging and felt the sharp slash at my chest every time the metal weapon in her hands hit my car.
She was losing it.
How many times could she be humiliated before she crumbled?
How many times could she be hurt before the damage was irreparable?
“Tate, stop it!” I grabbed her from behind before she brought the crowbar back down.
I had no idea what the damage was, but I didn’t care.
She twisted away from me, and spun around to face me.
And that’s when I saw it.
The end.
The death in her eyes. The absence of emotion. The surrender of everything good between us that we’d built this past week.
She believed I’d sent that video to the whole school. She believed I’d wanted her to hurt again.
“Tate…” I tried to speak but couldn’t.
She didn’t look angry or sad.
She’d given up on me.
And I was so paralyzed by that realization, I barely heard her threat.
“Stay away from me, or it’ll be more than your car getting busted up next time.”
She walked away, and the crowd around me hushed, but I had nothing to say.
I had no fucking clue how I was going to fix this.
Youth guidance counselor?
Yeah, right.