“I’m not—I—”
“YOU’RE A MURDERER AND A LIAR! DON’T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT!”
“One more word,” Poison seethed quietly, stepping in front of me, “and I’ll show you what a murder looks like.”
“No,” I croaked, still unwilling to fight with Amber in any way. Not when she was grieving the loss of her father.
I reached out blindly for Poison and then grabbed onto Clarin with my other hand before ducking my head down and walking quickly away. The crowd parted with surprising swiftness, and I realised a moment too late that they weren’t simply making room for us… they were twitching away from me, fear and disgust bright in their eyes. I ducked my head again, but it seemed Amber wasn’t done with me yet. She caught the back of my jacket, pulling all three of us up short.
“You tell me what really happened with my father, Seraph Black, or I swear to God… I’ll release the photos.”
Photos.
If every device with photographic capabilities was gathered up and burnt, and the ashes buried in a safe to be sent to be bottom of the Pacific… I would still be paranoid of that word.
Photos.
“You’re making things up,” I said, my throat thick, my tone cold with apprehension.
“Try me,” she taunted, much quieter now. “Every photo they managed to take of you in that car was saved on cloud storage. If you want to know where to find me, just ask Noah. He spends half his nights at my place anyway.”
That hit me like a truck to the face, and I took a staggering step away from her. She didn’t seem to realise the effect of her words as she turned her back to dismiss me, but Poison and Clarin were tense and quiet as I hurried away from the crowd.
“What are you doing?” Clarin muttered as we passed through into the building.
I glanced behind me, but he was looking at Poison, who was on her phone.
“I’m waiting to see if anyone recorded that. If they did, we’re in trouble, and… ah shit.”
“Already?” Clarin groaned.
“Yeah. Approximately two minutes ago. We need to act quickly; I know the girl. You in?”
“I’m in,” Clarin declared. They turned in synchronisation and began striding back out of the building we’d just entered.
“Ah…” I hesitated, watching their retreating backs.
I hoped they wouldn’t break any bones in their attempt to keep that recording from circulating the Internet, but there really wasn’t anything I could do to stop them. Maybe I didn’t want to stop them either. I shouldn’t have allowed Amber to say so much, but it was hard to be tactical with a grieving teenager screaming right in your face.
I made my way to the information booth that was handing out timetables to the freshmen, and collected mine, along with Poison’s and Clarin’s. I checked the locations of their first classes, texted them the buildings and room numbers, and then headed off for my own. The campus was confusing and I silently reprimanded myself for opting out of the campus tour with Poison and Clarin the day before, but I had at least grabbed a map from the information booth, so I only ended up being ten minutes late.
Or… did I get the wrong lecture hall?
I was in the ‘Kingsling Building’—an irony that was not lost on me. Most of the lecture halls and classrooms had been bustling with activity, but this one was cast in shadows, and there wasn’t a person in sight. I spotted movement down by the podium and squinted, a strained laugh falling out of my mouth when I recognised Quillan.
“Now I understand why you ‘took the day off’ and asked me to drive Tariq to school.” I let the door fall closed behind me as I made my way down the steps between rows of seats, unwinding my scarf and folding it into my bag. “You resigned from the high school, didn’t you?”
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out that you enrolled in a visual arts subject?” He spoke carefully, his tone measured as he got up from the stool that he had been leaning against and moved to meet me at the base of the stairs.
I paused two steps from the bottom, because it almost put me on eye-level with him. “No… I suppose not. I didn’t expect you to switch jobs, though. Hasn’t Principle Webber reported this as inappropriate yet?”
“I persuaded him to keep quiet, for now.” Quillan’s eyes were heavy on my face, and there was a phone clutched in his hand, the screen still lit up.
“They texted you already?” I asked, a frown pulling insistently at my mouth.
“I don’t know who they are,” he slipped a finger into the strap of my bag, lifting it from my shoulder and laying it on an empty seat, “but Cabe did call me. Apparently you got into a fight. There’s already a few videos of it online.”
“A few?” Poison and Clarin were going to have a busy day.