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“You know damn well nothing happened between us, Malcolm,” I thunder. “Who took this? Did you have someone do this?”
“Obviously I had nothing to do with it…I was busy.” He laughs, and I want to slap him in the face.
“Look, I know you’re upset that I didn’t mess around with you,” my tone turns calmer, wanting to reason with him. “But I know you’re a decent guy,” I lie, feeling nothing of the sort anymore. “You have to help me fix this. Emmett saw this and thinks it’s real.”
“Oh, it’s real,” he replies boldly.
“Why are you acting this way?” I whine in distress. “I thought you were different…I thought you were better than this. You know this is doctored. It’s fake. Somebody is trying to tear Emmett and me apart!”
Suddenly, a toilet flushes from the back of the room. “Who’s here?” I glare at him, but he doesn’t an
swer. I’m surprised to see Lily appear from behind the bathroom door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I gape, flailing my phone in her direction. “Did you do this?”
“No, but I wish I had,” she snickers, before plopping down on the couch.
“Since when are you two friends?” I admonish with a furrowed brow, shaking my head in confusion. “Is this why you were hanging out with me the whole time, Malcolm? Are you just working with Vivian and Lily to ruin my life?”
“No one has to work to do that, Ophelia,” Lily answers coldly. “There’s not much of a life to ruin to begin with…and the pathetic mess you do have…You do more than enough to fuck it up on your own.”
“Why is everyone in this town so fucked up!?” I shriek, flying into a mad pace around the room, feeling like I’m wasting my time talking to these idiots. They’re both lounging around looking bored and snide, and it’s becoming more and more obvious that I’m getting nowhere. “Lily, I know you’re angry with me right now,” I try to plead, “but we were friends once. Surely some part of you feels bad about how you’ve been acting. Please, help me.”
She shrugs. “You’re beyond help. You cheated on Emmett, and you got caught. The end.”
“I did not!” I cry back. “Malcolm and I were watching a movie. He made a pass at me. I fought him off and then ran away. The end. That’s it. That’s all that happened, and I don’t know where the hell this picture came from!”
“That’s not how I remember it,” Malcolm adds snidely.
“So, you did this, then,” I conclude. “You’re the one who made this and sent it to Emmett!”
“You sound like a crazy person, Ophelia,” Lily taunts. “Are you back on drugs?” She laughs.
I pace around Malcolm’s house, looking back and forth between the couch and the front windows. I compare it to the photo and can see that someone clearly had to have been watching from outside the window. They must have snapped the picture when Malcolm forced his way on top of me, and then edited it in Photoshop afterwards.
This whole thing was planned. Someone had to have been waiting out there for him to make his move just so they could get the picture, and once they had it, they worked fast. Fast enough for it to have already been sent out by the time I made it back over to Emmett’s.
I’m convinced that Lily had to have been the one to take it. Why else would she be hanging around here right now, acting just as delusional as Malcolm? I want to interrogate them some more, but it’s obvious neither of them is going to own up to anything. But I am determined not to leave here until I have some sort of proof or explanation for Emmett.
My eyes dart across Malcolm’s expensive equipment, and it hits me. He has to have security measures in place to protect all of this stuff. All rich people spend just as much money on protecting their things as they do on the things themselves.
“Security cameras!” I shout. “You have cameras outside?” I grasp desperately at this last straw.
“What are you talking about?” he grumbles in annoyance.
“The footage would show who took the picture,” I insist. The two of them don’t move. I know it’s hopeless. They’re probably behind the photo, even if I can’t figure out why. Maybe Malcolm was just mad that I refuted his advance and decided to get revenge. Maybe he thought that once Emmett was out of the picture, I’d come running back to him. But I’m half-tempted to try and get a hold of the footage anyway. Just as I am inching towards the door to see if there are cameras, my phone rings. I hope it’s Emmett calling. Maybe he’s ready to listen to me. But it’s a number I don’t recognize.
“Excuse me. I have to take this,” I explain as I step outside, but I know it’s pointless. They could care less if I’m here right now or not. They’ve already had their fun, and at this point I’m just a source of entertainment. They’re enjoying watching me go mad as I try to figure all of this out.
I step out into the backyard of the main house, which happens to be Malcolm’s front yard, and answer the call.
“Ophelia, it’s me. Granger.”
“Coach Granger,” I answer apologetically. “Sorry I missed practice today…I…I wasn’t feeling well and…”
“Are you alone right now?” he cuts me off.
“Sort of,” I answer lightly, looking through the window to make sure Lily and Malcolm are still in sight on the couch. I quickly realize he’s not calling to yell at me about practice. “Coach, what’s wrong?”
