Page 31 of Secret Obsession
“I could’ve waited for you at the student center,” I mutter.
“No, you couldn’t have,” she replies. “You’re in deep shit.”
“With who?”
“Amanda?” Violet scoffs. “Come on, Will, if you’re going to get revenge, you should tell me about it beforehand so I can try to help minimize the damage.”
“Um…” I shake my head. “Sorry, I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
My best friend stares at me. “It came from your phone.”
“Whatcame from my phone?”
“The screenshots.”
I’m going to smack her. “Can you be any more cryptic?”
She winces.
Guilt immediately slaps me in the face, and I reach for her hands. “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t mean to take anything out on you. I’m just frustrated because of Miles, and… Can you just show me what you’re talking about?”
She grips my hands back. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to be vague—I thought you were just playing dumb.”
“Well, I’m not dumb and I wouldn’t pretend to be.” I retract my arms, sitting on my hands. The heated seats are warming up, and I will take every ounce of it I can get.
Violet hands me her phone. My social media page. Calling out Amanda for being biased, for only wanting to be involved in the dance team because of its proximity to the hockey players. And the screenshots of her lusting after Steele, Knox, and a few others who have since graduated. Her messages to me about hooking up with them at parties, if I think low-cut shirts will do it or if she needs to be more forward…
“These conversations are from ages ago.” I shake my head. “Why…?”
“People are saying you’re sharing them out of spite,” Violet says. “Because Amanda kicked you off the dance team, you want revenge. But they’re saying you broke girl code or whatever.”
Oh, great.
“How—” I swallow my frustration. “Do you think my phone was hacked?”
“Maybe. Either way, we’ve got to perform some major damage control. You need to delete it and post… I don’t know, an apology or something. Or say they were edited—”
“I’m not going to cave.” I grit my teeth. Whoever did this wanted to cause harm. I’d never do that, no matter how much I wanted to punch Amanda for kicking me off the team. “I mean, yes, I’ll delete it.”
I pull up the app, but my social media won’t load. It just spins and spins. “I don’t think I have service down here. I’ll delete it later. Promise.” I hop out of her car. “I’ll just keep on the down-low, you know? It’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t believe me, but she gets out of the car and walks into the student center with me. There’s a little shop next to the dining hall that sells to-go sandwiches, and we both automatically head there instead of the dining hall.
I’m collecting dirty looks as we go, but I keep my gaze averted. Part of me wants to snap back at everyone, but it’s clear that whoever got into my socials wanted this to happen. And in a way, I’m in the wrong.
“Try to delete it again,” Violet urges.
I reload it, but nothing. Just a gray screen.
“This is fucking stupid,” I growl. “I’m going to have to do it on my laptop. Which is at home, of course.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
We pay for our sandwiches and head back to Violet’s car. We get there without any trouble, but I can feel it brewing like a fucking storm in our wake. The way that thunderstorms send electricity into the air before lightning strikes—that’s what this is. My hair at the nape of my neck is standing up, and I’m on red alert all the way back to my apartment.
“Um…” Violet shifts in her seat. “I’d come up, but I promised I’d get drinks with Grey.”
“Not a problem,” I hop out and lean in the opening. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
