Page 36 of Chasing Callie

The contact zings through my body like electricity. My head jerks up involuntarily, my eyes locking with his. The intensity I find there steals my breath. Frustration, hurt, longing all tangled together in a look that pins me in place.

Don’t. Don’t get sucked back in. Remember how much it hurt the first time.

Breaking the gaze is like ripping off a bandage. I force myself forward, grateful when Lily and Aspen hook their arms through mine, pulling me toward the house. Every step is like walking through quicksand, my body hyperaware of three sets of eyes burning into my back.

The lake house thrums with music and laughter as we step inside. Bodies press together in the living room, dancing to some pop song that’s been remixed almost beyond recognition. A beer pong game occupies one corner, cheers rise up as someone sinks a shot. The chaos of a party should feel comforting, but my skin prickles with unease.

Maybe this was a bad idea. “I need another drink,” I announce, heading toward the kitchen with Aspen and Lily trailing behind.

We’re pouring shots when a familiar voice slices through the buzz of conversation. “Ew. Look who came crawling back to town.”

Penelope stands in the doorway, arms crossed. Her hair falls in perfect waves, framing a face twisted with malice as she looks me over, her gaze lingering on the lake water still drying on my skin.

“Looks like she’s still wet all these years later,” she sneers. The mean girls flanking her burst into laughter, but everyone else in the kitchen falls quiet, eyes skimming over me.

Anger roars through my veins. Every humiliating second, every tear shed in the aftermath of that video crashes into me at once. Instead of cowering, or running, I feel something break loose inside me. The burden of a decade’s worth of shame transforming into white-hot rage. Years of stifling myself have only made me more volatile, but right now, I don’t care.

“You know what, Penelope?” I push through the people crowding the kitchen, stopping directly in front of the woman who ruined my senior year. A calm settles over me, eerie in its intensity. “I’ve missed you.”

Confusion flickers across her face. “Ugh, I’m not friends with sluts.”

There’s that fucking word again. My lips curl into a vicious grin. “See? I’ve missed that. You know why?”

She shakes her head, uncertainty creeping into her expression.

“Callie. . .” Lily warns from behind me, realizing what’s coming. Her promise to my Mom is about to be broken.

Oh well.

My fist connects with Penelope’s nose with a satisfying crunch. She drops to the floor with a screech, blood spurting between her fingers as she clutches her face.

“Are you crazy?” one of her friends shouts.

The other glares at me. “You’re going to jail tonight,” she taunts, pulling out her phone.

I laugh, the sound genuine and liberating as I crouch down to look Penelope dead in the eye. “Press charges, and I will too.”

“What are you talking about, you psycho?” she sputters, mascara-streaked tears mixing with the blood dripping down her chin.

I tip my head. “I think you know. Revenge porn is illegal, you know that, right?”

The kitchen falls silent, every eye glued to Penelope as understanding ripples through the room. I wait, watching her face, waiting for her to confirm what Knox told me.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy your moment of fame,” she hisses. “You wanted everyone to love you, including Knox. You should have seen his face when he saw the video. He was disgusted, Callie.”

There’s that ugly jealousy I ignored so many times when she was with Knox. I told myself it was normal, and I tried to be somewhat inviting, but she was always such a bitch. “Did Knox finally fall in love with you after you posted it?”

She presses her lips together.

“That’s what I thought. Call the cops if you want, but I’m sure they’ll be very interested to learn about your sharing child pornography. At the very least, the local news stations will want to know all about it.”

“You wouldn’t,” she snarls.

“Wouldn’t I?” I pat her cheek, chuckling when she flinches away, and stand up, feeling lighter than I have in years. I glance at Lily and Aspen, who stare at me with identical expressions of shock and awe.

“Who’s ready for a drink?” I ask brightly.

Penelope’s friends attempt to help her to her feet, but she shoves them away, shrieking, face contorted with rage as blood continues to stream from her nose. She storms out of the house, leaving a trail of crimson droplets in her wake.