Hunter takes me home after dinner. We still have an enjoyable evening, but it’s undeniably marred by what happened in the afternoon.
Since my mom didn’t text me freaking out about it while I was at Hunter’s, I assume none of the PTO moms have seen the picture and shared it with her.
I’m torn on what to do about it.
On one hand, I should give her a heads up that there’s an awful picture going around in case it does get back to her.
On the other, it’s too horrifying to describe or explain, and I don’t want to mention it.
Maybe she’ll never find out. Even if one of the moms catches wind of it, they might be too embarrassed to share something so explicit with her.
If I tell my mom about it, she’ll overreact. She’ll flip her shit, storm the principal’s office, demand accountability and someone’s head on a platter.
I do like accountability, and I would like to see Valerie’s head on a platter, but I’m sure she was smart enough to make sure it couldn’t be tracked back to her. I’m sure she had one of her lackeys make it on their computer, send it from their phone the first time.
She knows she can’t afford for Hunter to have irrefutable proof she was behind it, let alone the principal.
And since apparently she’s trying to implicate Sherlock now, he might get dragged into it if the school launches an investigation. I don’t for one second think he had anything to do with it—he has no motive—but I don’t want to risk getting him in trouble.
Hunter didn’t think to question Valerie or poke holes in her bullshit claims when she came over to his house and tried to plant that idea in his head, but only because she played on his weakness.
She knows Hunter has already been jealous over Sherlock, jealous enough to take a swing at him during football practice. Knowing that, she probably knew her argument didn’t entirely need to make sense. All she needed to do was plant doubt, feed into the idea that Sherlock likes me, and that would distract Hunter because it was an existing concern of his.
I’m not so easily distracted.
I know it was her.
Unfortunately, I also know she won’t hesitate to take people down with her.
I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. I don’t want to be at war with Valerie, I just want her to get out of my life and leave me alone.
Even though I’ve spent much of the weekend lazing around, I’m still exhausted when I climb into bed and set my alarm for school in the morning.
I curl up in bed alone, looking at the empty side of my bed. After falling asleep with Hunter for the last couple of nights, I feel his absence now. I miss him.
Reckless.
This weekend was so reckless.
Before I fall asleep, I hear my phone vibrate on my bedside table. I open my eyes and see the room glowing from more than just the moonlight, so I roll over to check my phone.
It’s a text from Hunter. He must not be able to sleep either.
It reads simply, “I miss you already.”
A faint, bittersweet smile touches my lips as I type back, “I miss you, too.”
Chapter Fifty Two
Riley
The air fairly crackles when I get to school Monday morning.
It’s been a while since I showed up and felt dozens upon dozens of people stealing glances and whispering about me. It hasn’t been like that since homecoming, when Hunter made a public stand with me.
This is too juicy for them to pass up, though.
I mean, it’s not often straight porn gets passed around—especially porn linked to a scandalous classmate.
The way some of the people look at me as I walk into the school building, you’d think they really believe it was me in the picture.
I return to my practiced routine of dodging stares and pretending not to notice as I make my way to my locker. Only, when I get there, I’m jarred out of my bubble by someone grabbing onto my arm.
My heart stalls when I turn and see Sara standing there.
“Oh my God, what’s going on with you and Sherlock?”
“What?” I ask blankly.
“I only have a minute, I’m late to class. I was going to text you, but I know things have been weird, and I know I was kind of a bitch at the party.” She looks down, but only for a second. The gossip-hound in her can’t resist getting a scoop, even if things have been weird between us. “But I’m dying. I have to know. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t you see the picture?”
I roll my eyes, turning back to my locker to shove in the books I don’t need. “Of course I saw the picture. The Photoshopping was terrible. I want to believe no one is stupid enough not to realize it was Photoshopped. I need to believe that. There are different colored orbs around all of our heads, for God’s sake. There wasn’t even an attempt to make the blend seamless. Even the asshole who made the picture didn’t expect anyone to believe it was real.”
She rolls her eyes. “No, I know obviously the picture wasn’t real, I was talking about what he did to Valerie’s car.”
I stop rearranging my books and turn to look at her. “What?”
She stares back in disbelief. “You haven’t heard?”
My stomach starts twisting itself into knots. “Heard what?”
“I mean, no one knows for sure it was him, but everyone is saying it was. No one else is crazy enough to even steal a car, let alone blow one up, but he’s a little unhinged. In the best way. It’s kind of hot. I can’t believe a guy blew up a car for you and I can barely get a text back.”
I gape at her, not comprehending. “Sherlock blew up a car for me?”
Sara bobs her head. “He stole Valerie’s car last night. Drove it out to a field and blew it up.”
I can only stare, completely dumfounded. “He… blew up… Valerie’s car?”
She nods eagerly, her eyes alight with excitement. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. Everyone is talking about it. Valerie was so angry, she started crying. I thought you’d enjoy that.” She glances back over her shoulder. “I have to get to class, but you should sit with us at lunch today. I’m dying to know more about what’s happening.”
I stand there with my jaw hanging open as Sara turns and rushes off to class.
I need to get to class, too, but before I head that way, I pull out my phone and open up my old text chain with Sara. I hate to ask, but I shoot off a quick text saying, “I need to know what class Sherlock has after homeroom.”
I expect it will take her some time to get that information for me, so I slip my phone back in my purse, close my locker, and head off to homeroom with the books I need for my first couple of classes.
___
When homeroom ends and we all file out into the hall, I check my phone to see if Sara messaged me back.
“AP macroeconomics with Mr. Daly,” she said.
I type, “Thank you!” and send it to her before heading off in search of Mr. Daly’s room.
It’s in the opposite direction of my next class, so I’ll be late if I go after Sherlock, but I don’t know how else I’ll get to talk to him.
I can’t talk to him about this at lunch in front of Hunter. I don’t even know if he’ll be sitting with Hunter at lunch today. Hunter has been eerily silent this morning considering I’m sure he has heard about all this by now.