25. Underwater
25
Underwater
Unknown: I know something you don’t know. But it won’t take long until everyone else does too.
Stomach churning, I stared at the text as I sat in my idling truck. I’d parked in the lane behind Ben’s Impala, and he was already out of his car, back to me as he propped his ass on the hood. He hadn’t seen me yet, and I took the moment of solitude to reread the message I’d woken up to this morning.
Anxiety solidified in my gut like a rock, and I positioned my thumb to respond. But what was I supposed to say? I’d already told Unknown to fuck off, and they hadn’t. What else was there to say?
And wasn’t a reaction exactly what they were looking for? Wasn’t that always what bullies—Boyt—wanted?
Dismissing the heavy foreboding skittering over my skin, I swiped away the message and climbed out of my truck. I’d woken this morning in a good mood, and I wasn’t going to let some mystery asshole—Boyt, Boyt, Boyt —ruin my day.
Ben must have heard my approach, because his head rose and he looked over his shoulder, a smile spreading over his face as our eyes met. I grinned back and closed the distance between us. With no preamble, I threw myself at him and smashed our mouths together.
“Wow,” he breathed when we parted. “Um, good morning to you too.”
“Morning.” I kissed him again, and he chuckled into my enthusiastic mouth.
We kissed for far longer than was probably appropriate for a high school parking lot, but I ignored whatever stares we might have been garnering. Ben didn’t seem to mind either, his winter-chilled fingers slipping under my coat to skate over my lower back.
“You’re in a good mood.” He panted out the words when we finally disconnected.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Feeling naughty, I leaned in to whisper near his ear like I had a secret. “I had the best sex of my life this weekend.”
“The best sex of your life, huh?” He cocked a disbelieving brow even as his lips twitched with the urge to smile. “Lucky you.”
“Lucky me indeed,” I purred, leaning in to kiss his mouth delicately before giving him a sexy wink. “I can’t wait to hit that again.”
He laughed, cheeks flushing as he said, “Great, now I have a boner. Thanks for that.”
I shifted my leg between his, bringing a strangled yelp from him as I rubbed my thigh against him. “You’re so welcome.”
“Okay.” He grunted and shoved me off him. “That’s enough.”
As he covertly adjusted himself in his jeans, he glared at me as I laughed into my palm. Once his predicament was no longer visible, I took his hand in mine and dragged him toward the school doors.
We walked inside hand-in-hand, and Ben’s grumbled reprimands faded away as more than a few students turned to stare at us. They were huddled in groups, whispering excitedly, but the buzz of conversation dissolved as Ben and I walked past.
“That was weird,” I said as we headed toward my locker.
As we walked, more and more stares followed us. People were huddled around their phones, some laughing, some sneering. Then they’d notice us, and they’d gawk.
My stomach cramped, and I squeezed the life out of Ben’s hand.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are they staring at us?”
“I don’t know,” I said, but I wondered if it had something to do with Unknown. “I think... Ben, I think we should go.”
“Go?”
Turning away from the horrible stares, I tugged on his hand. “Yeah, we need to go.”
He scoffed. “We can’t skip school again. It’s probably just another stupid rumor.”
“Maybe,” I said, though I didn’t believe it. Unknown had done something, and I had the sinking feeling that I wouldn’t like it one bit.
By the time we arrived at my locker, my skin was crawling from the blatant attention we were receiving. Braying laughter cut through the uncomfortable hum of whispered conversation as Jake Thompson and his friends carved a path through the busy hallway.
For some asinine reason, they were all dressed up in cowboy boots and hats. What the actual fuck?
Of course, the moment Jake saw us—me—his entire face lit up. “Damn, Brigs,” he shouted loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. “I didn’t know you fancied yourself a cowgirl.”
“A little Brokeback Mountain reenactment?” one of Jake’s companions said.
“Yeehaw,” another crowed, and they all laughed, exchanging high-fives.
I quirked my head at Ben. “What?”
He shook his head in matching puzzlement. “I have no idea.”
Phones were chiming all over the place, and people were pointing and laughing. I felt my own phone buzz in my pocket, and my intuition told me not to look. It told me to turn around and run back to my truck. Because something was very, very wrong here.
“Ben, I think we should go,” I said again as a group of sophomores pointed at one of their phones, then looked right at me, some giggling, some looking horrified. “Ben?”
“Oh Jesus,” he said, and his voice was... I’d never heard him sound like that.
I turned away from the snickering sophomores and looked at Ben. He wasn’t looking at me, though. He was looking at his phone, and his face was white as a sheet.
“What is this?” he asked, his hand trembling. “Silas, what is this?”
Like I was underwater, I moved in slow motion, reaching across the space between us to take his phone from his quaking grasp. His breath hitched, eyes wide and unseeing, like he didn’t even realize the phone was gone.
I didn’t want to look, but my body was moving on its own accord, flipping Ben’s phone so I could see what he’d seen. I stared in confusion, unsure what I was even looking at. Like my brain couldn’t compute what my eyes could so clearly see.
It was me. It was us . A picture of us. In my room. On my bed . The blinds... oh Jesus, I’d left the blinds open. The blinds had been open !
I made a wounded noise, a strangled, choking thing, as I gazed down at a picture of me astride Ben’s lap, his back against my headboard. There was so much skin, and Ben’s fingers were digging into my hips. Because we were fucking. He was inside me, and we were fucking. And there was a picture!
The goddamn blinds had been open. And he’d been there. He’d been there, and he’d watched us. He’d watched .
Ben’s phone slipped from my numb fingers, landing on the carpet with a dull thump . Phones were pinging all around us, and everyone was staring. Because the photo wasn’t just on Ben’s phone. It was on everyone’s phone.
Unknown—Eric—had sent the picture to everyone.
“Oh my God,” I whimpered, but my voice sounded muffled and far away. Because I was still underwater.
As my vision blurred, something inside me cracked. This past weekend had been amazing, one of the best moments of my life. But now the memories were tainted, forever contaminated from the repulsive realization that we hadn’t been alone.
Eric fucking Boyt had been there, watching us, taking pictures of us.
And now everyone else would see too. Everyone would play witness to our most private moment. It was an egregious act, an atrocious violation. Sorrow speared through my chest as something incredibly precious was destroyed, as something invaluable was stolen from me—from us.
Everyone would know; everyone would see.
I wanted to scream, the sound clawing its way up my throat, but it stuck behind my clenched teeth. It escaped a pathetic, broken sob.
“Oh my God.”
Someone was talking, but I couldn’t understand them.
I was trapped underwater, and I was drowning. Oh God, I was drowning because I couldn’t breathe when I was underwater.
“Silas.” Warm hands cupped my face. “Silas, please.” Lips pressed to the spot below my ear. “Please, come back. I can’t do this alone. Please, don’t leave me alone.”
The brokenness in his voice cut through the shock and the panic, and I sucked in a lungful of air. I blinked, and the world rushed in. The lights were so bright, and everything was too loud.
But I only had eyes for Ben. Ben who had fallen to the ground with me. Ben who knelt before me with his hands framing my face. Ben whose cheeks were deathly pale and streaked with tears.
Crying. Ben was crying. I’d never seen him cry before, not like this, and it broke whatever remained of my heart.
“Ben?”
“Don’t break on me yet,” he begged. “I can’t do this without you. Please, don’t break on me yet.”
I reached up and squeezed his wrists. “Ben, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
And I was. Because this was my fault. From the moment Ben had walked into that bathroom and chosen to help me, he’d sealed his fate.
Boyt had done this for me and me alone, and Ben was simply collateral damage. Him getting caught in the crossfire was just an added bonus. All of this had been orchestrated for me. Because of me.
“It’s all my fault,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry.”
“Everyone is to report to their first-hour classrooms immediately!” a furious voice boomed through the hall, reminding me that we weren’t alone. “I will give you all five minutes to disappear. Anyone left in this hallway after that will receive instant detention and possible suspension.”
As Ben picked his phone off the floor, I looked up at Mr. Rodriguez, startling when I realized we were surrounded. Acker stood beside Mr. Rodriguez, shooing students away, Kim’s pink phone clutched in her hand. Ronnie was helping Ben to stand. Caroline, Kim, Jordan, and Harris were circled around us, acting like a shield.
Crouching down beside me, Kim placed a hand on my shoulder. Her tear-streaked face filled my blurry vision as she said, “Come on, Silas. You have to stand up now.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, even though I did.
“I know. Just stand up. That’s all you have to do. Just stand up.”
“He watched us,” I told her, grabbing her arm. “He watched us, Kim.”
She winced, blinking back another wave of tears. “Who?”
“Okay, Silas, let’s get you up,” Mr. Rodriguez said before I could answer her. He gripped my arm gently and lifted as Kim helped on my other side. “Let’s get you two to the principal’s office.”
“But we didn’t do anything!” I said, and his brow furrowed in confusion. “We didn’t send the picture; it wasn’t us. You have to believe me. He’ll expel me—you can’t let him expel me.”
“Silas, you’re not in trouble,” he assured me, hands heavy on my shoulders. “It’s just protocol. We’re going to the office, and we’ll call your parents. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
But that last part was a lie, wasn’t it? None of this was okay. It wouldn’t ever be okay. Because he’d been there, and he’d watched. And now everyone else had seen it too. They even had a souvenir.
But I didn’t say any of that. I simply fell into step beside a shell-shocked Ben. Acker told our friends to get to class as she wrapped a protective arm around Ben’s shoulders. Mr. Rodriguez guided me with a steady grip on my arm.
At some point, Ben took my hand, but I was too numb to feel it.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he said, voice dead and robotic.
“I know,” I lied absently.
When we finally made it to the front office, I saw Alice standing next to a guidance counselor, her splotchy cheeks wet. She turned toward us, and her expression crumpled. Guilt, I realized. She looked guilty as fuck.
“What did you do?” I demanded before I’d consciously decided to speak.
Ben tightened his grip on my hand as Alice cowered into the guidance counselor’s side. “I had to,” she whimpered. “They were going to tell everyone. They were going to tell my parents. I had to!”
Somehow, my brain made the connection. Alice was popular. She probably had a lot of phone numbers. One mass text was all it would take to start the chain reaction. And then the photo would spread like wildfire. And Alice would take the fall because she’d started it.
It was a pretty smart plan, actually. I hadn’t expected such thoroughness from Boyt. But I supposed I’d always underestimated him, hadn’t I.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I had to.”
“You bitch,” I spat, and she had the gall to burst into tears. Rage rushed over me so quickly and powerfully that it nearly buckled my knees. “You fucking bitch!”
Both Mr. Rodriguez and Ben had to drag me back as I screamed at her, the helplessness and hurt compounding into a blinding fury. I didn’t even know what I was shouting at her, but I knew it was ugly and cruel.
But that was the point, wasn’t it? I wanted her to hurt. For her part in all this, she deserved to hurt.
Someone ordered Alice out of the room, and the counselor led her away as she sobbed into her hands. Ben manhandled me into a chair and boxed me in, his expression pulled into a tight mask.
“Stop it, Silas,” he said, trapping my arms on the armrests. “Stop it!”
I glared up at him, the betrayal cutting deep. But then his chest hitched, and there were tears in his bloodshot eyes. The anger leaked away, replaced with a sorrow so vast I didn’t know what to do with it.
When he was sure that I wasn’t going to get up and attack Alice, Ben released his death grip on my wrists and sat down in the seat next to me. Mr. Rodriguez was on my other side. Acker collected my phone, then Ben’s, then she and Vice Principal Fields disappeared into Principal Moore’s office.
The front office secretary told us that our parents were on their way. She asked if we wanted water. I couldn’t find my voice. Ben shook his head. I stared at the red and gold zigzagged carpet, knuckles whitening as I clung to the armrests.
Mr. Rodriguez reached out to lay a hand on my bouncing knee, but then stopped himself. He was a teacher after all. He wasn’t allowed to touch me. So he rested his hands in his lap and bowed his head.
My knee bounced.
A faucet drip, drip, dripped.
The blinds were open.
I smelled cucumber melon.
Ben said, “It’s gonna be okay.”
And I sat there in silence, doing my best not to shatter into a million tiny pieces.
I wanted to believe this was nothing more than a nightmare, but there was no waking up from this. There was no erasing it, no more pretending. Everything was crashing and burning around us, and I wondered if it was possible for us to make it out together unscathed.
Ben said we would be okay.
We both knew he was lying.