“What. The. Heck?”
Teagan’s voice rings loud in our dorm room and I hear her over the music I have blasting in my ears. I remove one of the headphones and look at her, waiting for her to continue saying whatever she was going to say. But she doesn’t. She just holds up her phone.
I stand up and look at the screen.
It’s me.
At the baseball game.
“Does my nose really look like that?” I ask, touching the end of my nose.
It looks oddly small on camera.
“Phoenix Underwood, you need to explain this to me right now,” Teagan says. “You kissed Estaine and Brooks. And why the heck were you there with both of them at the same time, anyway? I thought you were dating Estaine? And why did Brooks kiss you like that?”
I don’t answer her question. Instead, I feel fear wish over my body slowly. With each beat of my heart, the fear intensifies until my ears are ringing and my face is hot.
“Where did you find this video?” I ask.
“It’s trending on YouTube. And Twitter. Everybody is jealous of some girl at the Boston game because she got to kiss two hot guys,” Teagan answers. “Now it’s your turn to answer my questions.”
I don’t though. Instead I walk over to my bed and sit down, because I’m suddenly feeling dizzy. I’m having problems taking a deep breath and the air around me is too thin.
Oh, my gosh.
I am going to die.
This terrorists group is going to find me. And this time, they’re going to shoot me instead of kidnapping me. They won’t take the chance of me getting rescued.
I’ll never be seventeen.
I’ll never be kissed by a boy when I actually want to be kissed by him.
I’ll never graduate high school.
I’ll never go to college.
I don’t even know what I want from life yet, and now the choice is going to be taken away from me. I’ll just be a page in the yearbook. That girl who died really young. And they won’t even remember me because I’ve only been at this school for two weeks. Or I’ll be remembered as that girl who kissed two boys at a baseball game, which might be even worse than not being remembered.
“Hey, are you okay?” Teagan asks. “Your face is really pale.”
“I’m fine,” I say, but it comes out breathless.
I’m pretty sure I’m not fine.
“I need to go,” I say, then stand up. I nearly fall over, but I catch myself on the bedpost.
“Maybe you should sit back down,” Teagan says.
“Maybe you’re right,” I say, falling back onto the bed.
I have got to get myself under control. I don’t even know that the terrorists saw this video. And even if they did see it, could they really track it back here? And if they do see it, will it put Estaine and Brooks in danger?
There is a knock on the door and Teagan walks over to open it. When she does, Estaine walks through.
“I’m guessing you saw the video,” he says.
I nod.
“Do you think...” he looks at Teagan, then me, “that your uncle has seen it yet?”
I shake my head.
I really need to show Uncle Matty and Jake.
“Want to take a walk with me?” Estaine asks.
I nod.
“I don’t think she should be going anywhere right now,” Teagan says.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, standing up again.
“Well, hurry back. You have a lot of explaining to do,” she says.
“Yeah, okay,” I say.
Estaine and I walk out of my dorm, shutting the door behind us.
“What are you going to tell her?” Estaine whispers.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I guess the truth. That Brooks kissed me against my will.”
“Yeah, but it still doesn’t explain why he was at the game with us,” he says.
“That would be your fault. You invited him,” I say.
“Because you were upset,” he says. “I want you to be happy, whether that is with me, Brooks, or whomever. I didn’t realize that he would do... that. I mean, he’s always been impulsive, but he’s usually not so stupid about it. I think he really likes you.”
“Well, I’m still mad at him,” I say.
Because I am.
I’m glad he’s at West Raven, because I’m pretty sure if I had to see his beautiful blue eyes I would probably have forgiven him already. And I know I should forgive him anyway. I’m not one to hold grudges, usually.
“You were so upset over everything that happened,” Estaine says, as we walk from the building towards my car. “I thought that you liked him, too. Like, you know, more than a friend-like.”
“I don’t know him,” I say. “I’ve only seen him a few times and we’ve texted, but I don’t know him well enough to say whether I like him or not. I do know that he gets really jealous, which is something that I definitely don’t like. He can’t expect me to not be friends with other guys.”
Especially if we’re just friends.
I’m sixteen. And I want to be friends with whomever I want to be friends with.
Maybe I just don’t do well when somebody tries to control me.
“Why did you trust me with your secret?” Estaine asks, as we get in the car.