“Claire, the girl you told to leave, leaked a video of Maiken and me in a compromising position.” My gaze was glued to my strappy gold heels, because I was afraid to see the disappointment in Momma’s eyes.
“As in a sex video?” Momma was on the verge of screaming at the top of her lungs.
I shook my head, still not meeting her eyes. “Not really. I was unbuckling Maiken’s jeans, and—”
“Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t want to know.” Fury threaded through her words. “Do you know what that could do to your college and future employment if that got out on the web, Quinn? And you, Maiken. How could you let this happen? Your basketball career could go up in smoke.”
Maiken cleared his throat. “Ma’am, the video was dark and grainy, and we weren’t naked. I also have the evidence.” He held up the thumb drive.
I cringed at the word “naked.” What if we had been? I’d been so flipping stupid to drink.
“It’s my fault, Momma. That was the night of my party, and well, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Someone knocked on the door, and then Trevor came in. “Can we talk?” He addressed all of us, holding his head high. “I know ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut the mustard.” He cupped his hands in front of him, his expression dour. “When I first arrived in Ashford, my world had been turned upside down. A new town. A strange home. A new school. My dad thought a fresh start would temper the memories of my mom’s death. He got on with his life like she didn’t even exist.” He took a breath as he kept his focus on Momma.
I found a crate to sit on. Maiken didn’t move from his spot near a shelf of toilet paper.
“I was furious with him,” Trevor continued. “I lashed out any chance I had. That night when Sloane said she was going to a party, I followed her to the farm. I was walking around the property when I spotted you two.” He looked at Maiken and me. “I had no intentions of malice. I film a lot of things.”
“You saved it on your computer, though,” I said. “And you failed to tell me that part.”
“When I hooked my phone to my computer that night to charge it—like I do on most nights—my photos and videos download automatically. Honestly, I didn’t even think about that when you deleted the video from my phone.”
Maybe I was crazy, but I believed him.
“And Claire?” Maiken asked. “Does she normally go snooping into your things?”
“She hates Quinn, man. I’m sorry about what Claire did. I will wipe the video off my computer. If you want to watch me, I’m cool with that.” He addressed Momma. “Ma’am, please forgive me. You and your husband have been kind and like a second family to me.”
Momma grasped his arms. “Son, I appreciate your honesty. You’re a good boy. And I’m so very sorry about your mom. You have a home with us at any time.”
“You’re not going to fire me?” he asked, seemingly holding his breath, looking like he was about to lose it.
“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Momma said. “But I want you to learn from this.” She wagged her finger at each of us. “All of you. Intimacy between two people belongs behind closed doors.” She gave me a pointed look. “I also hope, young lady, you’ve learned some valuable lessons this year.”
My heart was beating out of my chest as I waited for the bomb to drop. I just knew she was about to ground me or tell Daddy what I’d done.
As if she was in my head, she said, “We will not speak of this to your father. However, the three of you will make sure there is not another piece of evidence of the video. I would hate to see it surface years down the line when you’re trying to get a job.”
“I promise, Mrs. Thompson,” Trevor said. “I will erase it.”
“You will,” Maiken finally piped in. A smidge of fear washed over him. “If not, I will do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t get into a college basketball program.”
Trevor’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “We’ll do it together, man.”
“Good,” Momma said. “Now, I’m going to return to my post. I’ll see you at home, Quinn.” Then she walked out.
Trevor apologized once more then walked out, hanging his head.
Once Maiken and I were alone, I bent over and held my knees, blowing out a ton of air. “I hate high school.”
Maiken glared at me. “How come you didn’t tell me?”
I straightened. “I didn’t tell anyone because I was embarrassed and mortified.”
“With me?”
“No, of course not. With myself.” I grabbed his hands. “I did something under the influence. You told me to stop. You even thought someone was watching us, and I didn’t listen. I was mad at myself. When Trevor let me delete the video from his phone, I thought that was the end of it. I wasn’t thinking about where else he could’ve stored it. I was only thinking about how I dodged a bullet. Because if Trevor had turned out to be the creep I thought he was and the video went viral, then you might not have gotten the offer letter from BC.” I might’ve been reaching on that one.
“Maybe,” Maiken said. “But it hurts to know you didn’t tell me.”
A pang of anguish clutched my chest. “I love you, Maiken Maxwell, to the stars and back. I promise I will never keep anything from you again. Ever. I swear on Daddy’s heart.”
He cupped my face with one hand, and I leaned into his touch. The warm, gentle, soothing, and loving gesture sewed my emotions back together.
“From this day forward,” he said, “we are partners through thick, thin, highs, lows, and everything in between. No secrets. No lies. We support each other. We tell each other everything. Because someday, Quinn Thompson, you’ll be my wife. I will marry you.”
A swarm of butterflies went wild inside me. “My heart is yours, Maiken Maxwell. It’s yours to keep forever.”
He brushed his lips over mine before he kissed me, slow, wet, and sensual.
He was the love of my life, and he was spot-on. I would marry him someday.
The energy in the air was electric. The senior class occupied the front half of the gymnasium while I sat on stage, looking out at a sea of blue and gold caps and gowns. Two hundred seniors would walk across the stage in about thirty minutes, their pulses beating hard as they stood tall and smiled broadly.
Our teenage years were coming to a close—the fun times, the bad times, the drama, sporting events, tests, and everything else that came with being a teenager. But like my peers, I was proud of myself. I was proud that I’d made it through the awkward stages, the bullies, the long nights before exams, the parties I seriously wanted to erase from my memory, and most of all for turning into a strong individual.
As I half listened to Principal Sanders address our graduating class, I thought back to the first day I walked into Kensington during my freshman year. I’d been scared, timid, and excited. The last four years had been a series of firsts. My first crush. My first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first argument with Maiken. And my first time with a boy I loved.
Nerves churned in my stomach. I was about to make my first public speech in front of an audience with my parents, my brothers, my boyfriend, my close friends, and peers. I’d never addressed an audience that big. I wasn’t even sure if words would come out of my mouth.