Words stayed lodged in my throat. I’d saved one photocopy from the shredder, but without access to the Torments List, the naked photo now wrinkled in my fist would only incriminate me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to waste your time.” I stood, my legs shaky.
“I’m not sure what you thought would happen with this little visit, but next time you decide to skip first period. Do it with someone who can’t give you detention.” The pink slip he handed me was my dismissal.
I walked to my locker, too stunned and defeated to go to Ms. Yarnell’s class. The dial twisted under my fingertips until I heard the familiar click. I raised the handle and pulled, trying to steady my trembling hands. A paper flew out, glided through the air like a feather and slid two feet away from me. It was a photo, an original on glossy paper.
My legs felt ready to collapse as I walked toward the letters in red print on the back.
My sweet Cody:
Think of me often.
With love, Lindsay
I didn’t have to turn the photo around to know what it was. I’d taken down fifty copies of this picture.
All this time, I thought I was one step ahead. That I’d beaten them at their own game. Yet, somehow they figured out I was using Lindsay’s login. They figured out my loyalty was no longer to the king of the school.
It was all a set up. Even if I hadn’t seen the threads, the impact would have been the same.
Destroy her and frame me all at the same time.
T
he school was
ablaze with whispers, the atmosphere heavy as if a natural disaster was on its way to level the building. Students moved too quickly, gripped their books too tightly, watched those around them too carefully.
Cody never showed. I’d checked my phone at least a hundred times waiting for some kind of explanation, but nothing came.
“Skylar, wait up.”
I turned to see Blake jogging toward me before sixth period.
“Can I talk to you?”
I hesitated. “Okay.” He’d been cryptic and weird in first period, and I wasn’t looking for a repeat.
“Can we go somewhere alone?”
“I have class.” I eyed the room filling with students, none of them the one I wanted to see.
“I’ll get you a pass. Come on, Ms. Bakerfield takes all her test questions from the footnotes anyway. Please? I want to explain.”
He took my hand and pulled before I could protest. He led me into a large storage room with two big copy machines and rolls of colored paper, and shut the door.
“Blake?”
He paced like a tiger in a cage. “I wanted you to tell me the truth. That’s why I acted like I did this morning. I was upset.” He ran a hand through his pale hair and stopped to meet my eyes. “I saw you and him at the park.”
I touched my locket, hoping for some wisdom. Wondering at the same time why Cody hadn’t saved me from this confrontation.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but then all this stuff blew up about Lindsay, and I realized I was less hurt by her and more by you.” He stepped closer, inches away from contact. “My feelings are real, Skylar. You’re not the rebound girl or my way to pass the time.”
The tension those words brought caused me to shift away from him. I’d never been in this position before. Never had to let a guy down easy or explain I just wasn’t attracted to him. Maybe I should have told my dad more details. Gotten some advice. But what would he know about rejection? The man’s had women throwing themselves at him most of his life.
Blake watched me intently. Too intently. I fidgeted with my hands. “Cody was going to talk to you this morning.”
“I should have seen it coming. It’s a pattern with him.” Blake fell against the only wall not blocked by machinery and banged the back of his head twice.
My back stiffened. He’d basically just implied I was a pawn Cody used to hurt him. “None of this was planned. It just kind of happened. It was never about you.”
“Yet, I’m the one left looking like an idiot. First, Lindsay. Now you.”
My cheeks warmed, guilt nibbling at my insides. “I’m sorry.”
He banged his head again. “No. Don’t be sorry. It’s not you I’m mad at. I’m mad that Cody went after you the minute I showed interest.” Blake looked up, pain visible in his crystal blue eyes. “And this thing with Lindsay…it makes it all seem premeditated. She was my girlfriend for three years, and he was my best friend. He knew how much I cared about her. Everyone’s saying they’ve been carrying on since he won state.”
On the inside, jealousy shook my confidence. “You can’t really believe that. They’re just rumors.”
“Honestly, Skylar, my head’s not in the best place right now. I’ve got people telling me they saw them kissing in the parking lot. He’s always hovering around her, and I know she put a naked picture in his locker.”
I’d heard that one too, from more than one person. I glanced down at my phone; the screen was empty.
Why hadn’t he called
?
Blake shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me, and while I don’t think Cody and I will be on speaking terms ever again, I don’t want you to feel awkward around me.”
“I don’t want that either.” And I didn’t. Our groups had merged after that first group date. And Zoe loved being at the head table.
Relief showed in the tilt of his smile. He stretched out a hand. “Friends still? With no possibility of more this time?”
I was glad he could joke about it. Glad we could maybe find a way back to normal. I placed my hand in his. “Friends.”
M
y fall from
the inner circle had been swift and full of well-coordinated attacks: Ms. Sandival confiscated my phone in second period when Stacey Morgan asked very loudly who I was texting, Coach found out I had detention and demanded I serve it during lunch so I wouldn’t miss practice, and Zoe pulled Skylar into the bathroom the one time I saw her between classes.
And now, fifteen minutes had passed in sixth period, and Skylar was a no-show.
I raised my hand.
“Yes, Mr. James?” Ms. Bakerfield didn’t even glance my direction. A skill we still hadn’t figured out.
“I’m not feeling well. Can I go see the nurse?”
“Nice try. I’ve already heard about your skipping today.” She went back to her boring, monotone lecture, and I sank deeper in my desk.
Another five minutes passed, and finally I saw her, my fire goddess. Only the look she sent me could have withered roses in spring. She handed our teacher a note and walked down the aisle to the back of the room.
The pain in my chest eased a little when she slid into the desk next to mine. I pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled the words I’d wanted to say to her all day.
Rumors aren’t true
. I carefully slid the note on her desk.
She stared at them. I silently pleaded for her to believe me, but the hope drifted away when she slid the paper back.
Did you have a naked picture of Lindsay in your locker?
Ms. Bakerfield narrowed in on my note and shook her head in warning. At least she had the courtesy not to call me out. I folded the paper and slipped it in my bag. I needed more than a one-liner to explain what happened this morning.
*
Skylar stayed motionless
long after the final bell finished ringing.
I scooted closer and took her hand. “Do you remember when I said no matter what happened today, you were worth it?”
She finally made eye contact. “Yes.”
“Well, this is what I’ve been talking about.”
Skylar sighed. “So, the naked picture is just a lie.”
Why did I feel like honesty was going to get me in trouble? “No. There was a naked picture of Lindsay in my locker this morning, but she didn’t put it there. And the rumors about us this summer are absolutely untrue.”
I could see the wheels spinning in her head, weighing what she’d heard all day with the words I now offered her. “Why didn’t you text me?”
“Because my phone was confiscated in second period.”
Sounds from the hallway filtered into the almost empty classroom. A hand tapped the door frame. Drew, our newest sophomore wrestler. “Coach said you better get to practice. I won’t quote him exactly because there’s a lady present, but it had something to do with detention and suicide sprints and whole lot of pukin’.”
“Fine. I’m coming.” I waved him off and touched a lock of hair on her shoulder. “Can I stop by tonight? We can talk about everything?”
“I don’t know.” Skylar scratched at a nail, her hands tucked delicately in her lap. Her leg crossed over the other and began to swing. Boots that could impale a person rocked back and forth.
Tension cramped my neck and I popped it to the left.
How did everything slip away from me so fast?
“Please, Skylar.”
She stood. “Okay. But I don’t want any half-truths like at the park. I don’t want any more surprises.”
I followed her out to the hall and braced for her to walk away, but she wrapped her arms around me. I slid a hand through her hair, gripped her neck and held on like she might disappear. Without another word, Skylar pulled herself away from me and walked toward her locker.
The gym was in the other direction, and I sprinted the entire way there. No one said a word when I pushed through the locker room doors. A few of my teammates stood and shook their heads. Others mumbled under their breaths. It was as if someone had died, and I was the one responsible for putting him six feet under.
Blake was already on the mat when I stepped in the gym. He watched his opponent, circling, just waiting for a moment to strike. When it came, he pinned the guy in less than a minute.
I was seeing him for the first time without blinders. He had trimmed down over the summer, but still had enough girth to be in the 182-pound weight class. The weight loss created a quickness and agility he never had before. Blake had been power and strength, limited only by his ability to strike quickly enough. Once he caught a limb, opponents rarely ever escaped.
When coach blew the whistle and gushed about Blake’s progress, a twinge of jealousy hit. Coach hadn’t even cracked a smile in my direction this season.
Blake walked over, his eyes focused and confrontational. “You ready for a round—Captain?” His voice, sarcastic and sharp, made my body temperature spike. If Blake thought I’d be an easy pin, he was dead wrong.
“Always.” I leveled my eyes at him, refusing to be intimidated. I strapped on my headgear and took my position opposite him.
“You’re not the only one who learned a few tricks this summer.” Blake’s mouth curved into an arrogant smile. He said something else, but I tuned him out, instead getting my mind ready for the coming battle.
The whistle blew, and we lunged forward, gripping each other’s necks. His strong arms attempted to push me down, but I kept my body locked, twisting to get a better hold on his frame. We dropped to our knees, still latched onto one another. I pushed down hard, and Blake’s head dropped to the ground. Coach blew the whistle, giving me a point for the take down.
We released and stood again. Blake’s intense stare matched mine, and immediately we were locked in a hold once more. He attempted a leg grab and dropped his shoulder. My counter move was faster, leaving us locked again. The time ran out before either of us could get the upper hand.
“Wow, you boys look good today,” Coach Taylor beamed, thrilled to see his two strongest athletes at their best. “Cody, you take the bottom position for round two.”
I got down on all fours with Blake positioned over me. The whistle blew, and immediately Blake tried to force me on my back. He trapped my head to the floor, but I quickly pulled the switch move Matt had shown me and took control, forcing Blake on all fours. I went for the cradle and had almost pinned him, when Blake reached up and jammed three fingers against my throat.
The move was dirty and illegal, but he was so subtle with the motion that Coach didn’t notice. I struggled for breath while I pushed against his body.
“You picked the wrong side,” he hissed in my ear, never letting go of the chokehold on my neck.
The room went gray as dizziness stole my focus. Blake overpowered me, flipping us over until he had me pinned.
The whistle blew as I gasped for air. Rage exploded inside my chest.
The second Blake stood, I tackled him, sending us both sailing across the floor. My fist made contact with his face twice. The loud pop in my ear told me that Blake had gotten in a punch as well, but I felt nothing, just blissful numbness.
In the distance, shouts and whistles screeched as two strong arms latched onto me and pulled me back. Eyes locked on Blake, I surged forward, driven by the need to retaliate.
“Cody, enough!” Coach Taylor screamed in my ear, bringing my focus back to the gym, to the other wrestlers watching wide-eyed, and the shocked expression on the other coach’s face.
The salty taste of blood reminded me I’d taken a hit. But I doubted I looked as bad as Blake whose cut lip and swollen eye told me the punches I’d landed were solid ones.
Coach dragged me into his office and slammed the door. Without a word, he pushed me down into the chair and threw me a towel for the bloody sweat trailing down the side of my face.