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“Sorry I’m late, Sir.” Cameron burst into the room and I dropped my head onto the table with a muted groan. I could survive fifty-five minutes of hearing I was a traitorous slut, but I couldn’t handle hearing it in front of him.
His eyes found mine across the room, growing dark as he began to stalk toward me.
“Mr. Chase.” Mr. Henson sounded pissed. “I’d like you take your usual—”
“Change of plan, Sir.” He didn’t even look at Mr. Henson. “I’ll be needing a seat at the back. Jones,” Cameron addressed the guy beside me. “Move.”
The low rumble of chatter followed him as he reached the desk beside me. The guy already sitting there almost tripped over himself to move.
“Now, if everyone’s in their seats,” Mr. Henson cut Cameron with a harsh look, “We can get started.”
Ten minutes into the lesson, Cameron rapped his pen against the edge of my desk. “What?” I mouthed, our hushed voices drowned out by the discussion happening between the teacher and a couple of kids up front.
“You okay?”
“What do you think?” I whisper-hissed, returning my gaze to the front of the room.
I ignored Cameron for the rest of class. When the bell finally went and everyone started packing up their things, a paper projectile landed on my desk. I casually opened it, keeping my hand over the page to avoid any wandering—namely Cameron’s—eyes. Someone snickered as I balled up the vile note and stormed out of there.
I’d barely made it out of the door when I heard, “Who the fuck wrote this?” The harshness of Cameron’s voice reverberated through me, making me flinch, but I didn’t glance back.
I couldn’t.
“Hailee, wait,” he called, but I started pushing through the crowds as fast as I could.
I thought I could handle it. I thought it didn’t matter what people said about me; the lies they told. But apparently even I had a line. And that line was a detailed account of what someone thought a traitorous whore like me deserved.
Traitorous whore.
Anyone who knew me, really knew me, knew I didn’t date, let alone hook up with random guys.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I burst through the main doors into the fresh air. But I wouldn’t cry. Not over a bunch of kids who had been all too happy to ignore me for my entire high school existence. Besides, it was anger, not pain, I felt.
“Hailee, would you just wait up—”
“Go away, Cameron.” I waved him off over my shoulder as I made a beeline for the parking lot, ignoring the fact he’d called me by my name and not that stupid nickname he usually loved so much.
“Hey.” His hand curved around my shoulder.
“What do you want from me?” I spun around, shrugging him off, narrowing my eyes right on him.
“I...” His response died as he stepped back, putting some distance between us. He swept a hand over his short hair.
“Just leave me alone, okay?”
But Cameron didn’t move. He didn’t do anything. He just stood there, watching me, his expression dark; his gaze so intense I felt stripped naked. I went to walk away, but he moved quickly, his hand snagging my wrist. “It’s been like that all morning?”
“What do you care?”
Something flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t offer me an answer, and I let out a heavy sigh. “You know,” I said. “All I wanted was to get through senior year. I knew nothing would change with Jason, knew he’d still be obsessed with playing his stupid games. But I was fine with that. It was between us. I could still stay in the shadows…”
“I’ll fix it,” he said cryptically.
“Fix it?” My voice was incredulous. “You do know it’s your fault I’m in this situation, right?”
“If you hadn’t gone to that part—”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me? What is wrong with you? I’m seventeen, Cameron. I’m supposed to be going to parties, meeting boys, and getting drunk. But wait, I can’t do that because you and my asshole brother made damn sure of it.”
