Page 14 of Deposed

“Have you not seen the photos?” asked Duncan.

I turned to Henry, who froze. It could only mean the stills Rudolph had used to blackmail Mr. and Mrs. Bourneville into returning his million dollars were still floating about on the internet.

“What photos?” asked Coates.

Duncan reached into his pocket. “Here, let me show you.”

“I’d like to see what’s on your phone, too,” I said loud enough to attract Miss Oakley’s attention.

The old woman strode across the room, lips pursed. Her black robes billowed around her like she was an avenging academic. “Who is playing with mobile telephones in my class?”

I gave Duncan a pointed look. “No one, Miss.”

The teacher stretched out her hand. “Give it here.”

Duncan cocked his head to the side and gave me a narrow-eyed stare that asked what the fuck I thought I was doing. In the previous term, we had become friends of sorts, but I couldn’t let him show anyone the stills from the Valentine’s party. He pulled out his smartphone and handed it to Miss Oakley, who walked across the room and placed it in her drawer.

I turned back to Henry and mouthed, “What are you going to do?”

He mouthed back, “I don’t know.”

“What was this photo you wanted to show me?” asked Coates.

Miss Oakley’s shrill voice rang out. “Two demerits each. Silence in class!”

My efforts to quash the photos were futile. By the end of the day, most sixth-formers had seen them, saying they couldn’t believe Henry and Blake were lovers. Alice and the doppelgängers were the biggest distributors of the photos, and they didn’t care who saw them. It was probably their revenge for the triumvirate treating them like they were their own personal conveniences.

Later, Edward and I strolled along the magnolia tree path under a riot of white and pink blossoms. The sweet scent of citrus wafted down from the breeze, reminding me somewhat of Henry. Up ahead stood Elder House in its ancient glory, and I sighed. So far, the triumvirate’s wrath hadn’t been nearly as terrible as I had imagined. It probably helped that they still wanted me back.

A gaggle of girls giggled from behind. I glanced over my shoulder to find Alice and the doppelgängers leading a group of younger, female students. “Did you hear he was also in on the act? That’s why the trio treated girls so badly.”

Patricia sniggered. “They were too much in love with themselves!”

I broke away from Edward, fists clenched. “A few drunken fumbles doesn’t make for a relationship. You should know that by now.”

Patricia’s gaze flickered up and down my form. “What are you? Their beard? With a straight-up-and-down boyish figure like yours, it explains a lot.”

I tilted my head to the side and mirrored her eye movement. “Now that Charlotte’s gone, you look far less voluptuous. Did you stop stuffing your bra with socks?”

“Did I say you had a boyish figure? I meant that you were a boy.” She turned to Wendy, Alice, and the younger students. “Come along, girls. Let’s not chat with boys who bat for the other team.”

The procession of gossipers walked past with their noses in the air and headed toward the tuck shop. Alice glanced over my shoulder and gave me an apologetic smile.

I shrugged. If she wanted to return to a group of girls who had cast her out once before, who was I to judge? I was firmly entrenched with a gang of bastards.

Edward placed a hand around my waist. “I appreciate your defending our honor, but it’s unnecessary. Squabbling over such trivialities will only fuel the rumors.”

“Sorry.” I huffed out a frustrated breath and met his ocean-blue eyes. “But something about those girls makes me see red.”

“I didn’t treat them well, and they’re lashing out.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, eyes shining with compassion. “Just as you did, last term.”

Hope swelled in my heart, and a breath caught in my throat. Had Edward already started to forgive me? “I’m sorry things went that far.”

He patted me on the backside. “Not as sorry as we’re going to make you. Come on, let’s go to my study.”

Over the next hour, Edward and I sat side-by-side at his desk on leather office chairs working on our prep in companionable silence. I stole a glance at his face. Tendrils of mahogany-brown hair hung over his brow, softening his stern features.

Last term, we had grown so close, and I had seen a glimpse of the kind, sensitive soul beneath the haughty exterior. Now, I couldn’t work him out. He delivered his threats so mildly, it seemed like he was just paying lip service to exacting his revenge. And when we were alone, he was his usual, gallant self, albeit a little more reserved. I ached to know how he really felt, but the thought of breaking the peace by bringing up what I had done made my stomach clench.