Maybe he would’ve talked me out of it if I had.
I sat in my car for a long time before dialing, the stadium lights glowing behind me. Ben Calder’s name stared back at me from the parent contact list in my email.
I told myself I was doing the responsible thing.
I told myself I was concerned.
The phone rang once.
“Calder.”
No greeting, just his name.
“Hello, Ben. This is Lucas Rowen, Adrian’s friend. Taryn is in my history class.”
A pause. “I know who you are. What’s this about?”
“I’m concerned. She stole a copy of the biology exam, and I thought you should know.”
This was a mistake, but I was in too deep now.
Silence stretched, dense and unreadable.
Then Ben laughed.
Not really amused, but not in surprise either.
“Don’t worry. She’s already being punished for something else. I’ll make sure to add to it for this.”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have called Ben. The memory of that eight-year-old girl flashed through my mind. I was enraged at the adult Taryn, but that little girl made me feel guilty about what I was doing.
“Maybe after the game, all three of us can get together and talk.” I desperately tried to think of a way to undo what I’d done. “I know she’s been under a lot of pressure?—”
Ben interrupted me, “She won’t be there.”
I felt my heart drop.
“Mr. Calder, I’m sure this can be worked out.”
I heard a click and knew the asshole had hung up.
“Fuck!” I lay my head on the steering wheel.
I took a moment to calm down, then dialed Adrian. He’d know what to do. He hadn’t talked to Taryn in years, but I knew he kept track of her.
Creepy bastard probably watched her through her laptop’s camera.
“What? I’m extremely busy.”
Typical Adrian. Short and to the point.
“I fucked up.” I ripped off the Band-Aid.
“Lucas—”
I interrupted him. “It’s bad. And I need your help to fix it.”
“Lucas—”
