Luke stares at her. “Wait. It was you who released the pictures? You said you didn’t know who did it!”
Amy rolls her eyes. “Stop looking at me like that. It was my right.” She jabs a finger at me. “She turned up without an invite, dressed like a goddamn hooker, and went around snogging my guests. It was embarrassing. And you’re so goddamn stupid, I knew you’d never see what kind of a person she was, so yes. I took some shots on my phone. I wanted to give you proof that she was cheating on you.” She throws up her hands. “And you don’t even care! I don’t know what the Hell is wrong with you, Luke, but this little four-way you’ve got going on is disgusting. You used to teach children, for God’s sake. What do you think parents will think when they find out one of our former professors is a damn pervert?”
Her voice rises on the last word, and I see people throughout the room turning to look at us. A couple of my old PE teachers share a knowing look. Luke flushes.
Suddenly, I’m starting to regret my little plan. I thought we’d get in here, show off a bit, and come out again. I didn’t think about how bad it could look on the boys to all be seen with me. Apparently, my reputation as a total slag is infectious. I don’t want that on anyone else. It hurts.
Behind me, Josh’s grip on me tightens.
Luke swallows. When he speaks, his voice is very calm. “This has nothing to do with me or Layla. It’s about the wellbeing of the students.”
“But—”
Luke frowns. “That’s what our main focus as teachers is, right? Because if I’m telling you there’s an issue with child safety, and your first instinct is to sweep it under the rug, we’re going to have an issue.”
“There’s no issue with child safety!” She protests. “She’s making all of this up!”
Luke finally breaks. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, AMY!” He shouts, jabbing a finger at the lockers. “Someone has painted a slur onto a young girl’s locker! Someone is harassing a child. A minor. The proof is there in black and white, and I’m not going to let you ignore it just because you don’t want to handle the goddamn paperwork!”
Everyone else in the room goes silent. In the background, cheerful 90s pop plays through the CD player’s tinny speakers. Zack noisily scoops up a handful of crackers and starts crunching through them like they’re a tub of popcorn.
Amy takes a deep breath. “Perhaps we need to have a word in private, Luke,” she says coldly.
“I agree,” Luke counters, dipping to press a hard kiss to my cheek, and then stalking away to examine the lockers, leaving Amy to scurry after him in her little kitten heels. I watch them go, my eyes huge. What the Hell have I started?
“Nice,” Zack says, holding up a cracker to my lips and feeding it to me. “I love when he gets all righteous.”
“You probably shouldn’t crash the party and then eat all the food,” Josh mutters under his breath.
“Sorry, mate, you want one too?” Zack obligingly shoves a custard cream into Josh’s mouth.
Donny, who’s been watching everything go down with growing dismay, finally steps forward. “I need to speak with you,” he tells me lowly, not meeting my eye.
“Aight,” Zack straightens, dusting cracker crumbs off his hands. “Lead the way.”
Donny scowls. “Not with you,” he spits. “With Layla.”
“I assumed,” Zack counters. “If you think you’re going anywhere alone with my girl, mate, you’re even dumber than you look. She just told us you tried to grab her in a parking lot, for Chrissakes.”
“Yeah,” I say, amused. “And I almost broke his fingers. I don’t need a bodyguard, guys.”
Zack sighs dramatically. “Fine. Yell if you need me, love.” He smacks a kiss on my forehead, then turns back to the food. “These taste like shit,” he mutters to Josh, grabbing another handful of crackers. “Reckon I can eat them all before we have to go?”
Josh ignores him, his fingers clutching at mine like he doesn’t want to let me go. I carefully extricate myself from his grip, stroking his lapel. “I’ll be fine,” I say quietly. He catches my knuckles and dips down to kiss them, then silently lets me leave.
EIGHTY-TWO
LAYLA
Hands jammed into his pockets, Donny leads me to the corner of the gym, out of earshot of everybody else. I glance around, wrinkling my nose at the bins of deflated basketballs and broken hula hoops.
“Listen,” he says quietly. “You can’t put that stuff online.”
I check my nails. “Can’t I?”
“No!” His eyes are wide. “For God’s sake, I was a kid!”
“So was I. That didn’t stop you from making my life a living Hell.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing!” He insists. “It was ten years ago, Layla, can’t you just get over this stuff? I’ve worked hard to get where I am, why the Hell would you want to go and ruin it for me now?”
“I don’t,” I say honestly. “I don’t want to ruin anything for you. All I want to do is leave this behind me. So here’s what’s going to happen.” I take a step towards him, my high heels squeaking slightly on the ugly beige linoleum. “You’re going to drop the charges against Zack,” I order. “You’ll make a statement that you antagonised him. And then you’ll stay away from all of us. You won’t mention our names. You won’t subtweet us. You won’t tell anybody anything. Or all of the shit that I’ve got on you gets blasted onto our social media. I know the boys’ followers are dying to know why Zack hit you at the convention.” I smile at him. “I will tell everyone. I will do interviews. I’ll make entire episodes on the podcast. I’ll scream it from the rooftops. I’m sick of being quiet, and now there are people listening to me. I’m not a shy little sixteen-year-old anymore. I have a voice. Drop the charges, or I will use it.”
Donny’s nostrils flare. “That’s defamation. I could sue you.”
“It’s only defamation if it’s a lie. Maybe you’d know that, if you paid attention in PSHE instead of texting all of your mates about the imaginary handies I gave you in the loo.”
“It’s blackmail,” he counters, but his voice wobbles.
“Sure,” I say evenly. “Doesn’t make much of a difference to you though, does it? Either way, whenever anyone looks up your name online, the first thing they’ll see is a long list of all the disgusting, illegal things you did as a teenager. I doubt they’ll help your chances in the next election, will they?”
Donny swallows. He’s breathing hard. Sweat is beading on his forehead. “I’ll drop the charges,” he says eventually, his voice rasping.
“And make the statement,” I repeat patiently.
His face darkens. “And make the statement.”
I pat his cheek. “Good boy.” I nod at the sad little party. “Was that so hard? You can go play with your friends now.”
He turns to go, then hesitates, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Yes?” I ask patiently. “Do you want something else?”
“I’m, like.” He rubs the back of his head, his mouth twisting. “Sorry. Or whatever. It’s not… it had nothing to do with you, like, as a person. You were just… there. You know? Everyone was doing it.”
For a second, I’m taken aback. I didn’t expect him to apologise, no matter how terrible the apology is.
But honestly, it’s much too little, much too late.
“You want to know the truth?” I ask. “I really, truly don’t care. I don’t care about any of you anymore. So piss off and leave me the Hell alone.”
Tossing one last glare over his shoulder, he goes to rejoin the rest of the group, his head dipped low. As he walks away, it feels like a weight is being lifted off my chest.
A warm arm wraps around my waist, and a soft beard tickles my cheek. “You’re so scary,” Zack says into my ear. “Where’s the bathroom? I need to jump out the window to get away from you.”
“Most of my dates feel a similar urge. Breathe deep, it’ll pass.”
“You did amazing,” Josh agrees, coming up to my other side and taking my hand.
I look up at him and smile, leaning back against Zack’s chest. “Thanks. Can we go get some real food now? Revenge is exhausting.”