“It’s okay. Really. I’ll see you tonight.” I close the car door, head through the school’s front entrance and make a left for my locker. I put away the books I was supposed to use for last night’s lab project and pull out my English notebook.
“Did you hear about the video that was uploaded to the school’s YouTube account?”
Ian. I try to look surprised though it doesn’t really matter. He’s watching the hallway behind me and picking at the scab on his lower lip. Does he know? “No, I didn’t. What happened?”
“Someone put up a video of Matthew, Eric, and Sutton drinking and smoking weed. It was at an away game last month. They’ve been expelled.”
My hand hovers on top of my history book. Did I just have a twinge of guilt? Because I am not going to feel guilty. I’m not. “How did they know it was at an away game?”
“Dunno. Stuff behind them, I guess. Because they were drinking and doing drugs at a school function, they were automatically expelled.” Ian looks at me, waits for a response.
I stare right back at him, feeling Matthew’s hand around my neck.
Under my shirt.
My stomach heaves. I turn to my locker, throw books around until I can breathe again.
“You look really tired today,” Ian says.
“Gee thanks.”
“You should probably wear more makeup.”
And you should probably learn some damn manners. I nearly say it, but, looking at Ian, I can’t. He’s too freaking pathetic. He’s too . . . lonely. It’s written in his skin, in the way he slides closer to me, almost vibrating because someone’s talking to him.
The ache in my chest is unexpected and unwelcome and I can’t make it go away. There are jocks and populars and nerds and kids like Ian who are so desperate for attention they’ll hunt it anywhere, making themselves so annoying no one wants them around.
“Look, Ian—”
“Wick!”
I turn, smiling before I even seen him. Griff weaves through the hallway, eyes pinned to me, and my grin falters. He doesn’t look happy. He looks . . . pissed.
Griff knows.
We take the long way around to my English class. Griff walks as close to me as he usually does—only this time he doesn’t touch me and all I want is to grab his hand.
I grip my book bag’s straps instead.
“I know you did it,” he says at last.
I start to lie, but this is Griff and, even if I wanted to, I think he’d see through it. “They attacked Ian and me in a bathroom and they keyed my car. They had it coming.”
Griff jerks. “Attacked?”
“They keyed my car,” I repeat. It’s easier to say anyway. I’ll tell him everything else later. When I’m ready.
“You could have filed a police report, gotten the school to give you the security cam footage.”
“Only I was parked near the science wing and that camera hasn’t worked since we were freshmen.”
Griff winces, nods. He’s still not meeting my eyes though. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me.”
“I—I—” I didn’t and the realization feels like someone dropped me. I was so busy being pissed, so focused on bringing Sutton, Matthew, and Eric down. I just didn’t . . . think.
Or maybe I did, because the next realization drops me harder, faster: I was scared he would look at me like Bren did.
Like he might be doing now.
My stomach rolls into my throat. I walk faster, but can’t outrun Matthew. He’s nowhere near and yet I can smell him—citrus gum and sweat and the bleach from that damn bathroom.
Griff drifts a little closer to me, keeping pace. “How did you get the video?”
“Bradford dropped his phone. It was the video or the sexting. I preferred the video.”
“What are you trying to prove?”
“That they can’t keep pushing us around.”
He gapes at me. “So you got them expelled?”
Not intentionally. I’m glad I did though. The satisfaction is a warm, red rubber ball deep in my gut. Those boys were bullies. They hurt people. It’s about time someone returned the favor.
“I don’t regret doing it. I’m glad they’re screwed.”
Griff passes one hand through his hair. He’s speechless and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I hate it . . . but I’m not ashamed. Griff doesn’t understand what it was like.
“You talk about saving people, Griff. You don’t actually do it. I did.”
“This isn’t saving people. This is revenge.”
“And now they won’t hurt us anymore. They’re expelled. How is that not saving kids like us in the future?” I stare at Griff—my Griff—and it feels like I’m looking at a stranger. He doesn’t understand. How can he not understand?
I fidget with the strap on my book bag. “If you don’t act, all your talk is just words, Griff.”
The late bell rings and I look up, catching Griff staring at me. He shakes his head. “I gotta go.”
He lopes off without kissing me, and for the first time, I don’t mind. Well, I don’t mind as much. I was right to upload that video. I was.
Deep in my bag, my cell buzzes. I want to ignore it, but almost anything is better than thinking about Griff being mad at me and how I’m mad at him.
I jam my thumb against the answer button. “Yeah?”
“I love it when you sound all pissed off. It’s sexy.”