Chapter 17 RANDOM SIDE CHARACTER
Knight thought those texts were about him? But—
But they were about Grayson.
But Knight thought they were about him.
Which meant … Knight Errant was Grayson Jennings.
The boy I’d been talking to—trading photos and drawings, discussing books and secret hobbies—was Grayson.
The boy who’d trusted me enough to tell me about his story and then read it to me was Grayson.
The boy who’d known immediately that something was wrong when I first texted, known that I was sad, because people who randomly texted their text-door neighbors had a reason… .
Something clattered down the hall: A phone hit the floor.
Before I could stop my legs from moving, they were carrying me toward Grayson—because of course the figure slumped against the door was Grayson.
At first, he didn’t move. His arms were balanced on his knees.
His wrists were loose so his fingers pointed down to the floor. And he hadn’t even bothered to pick up his phone. He just sat there, totally defeated.
Betrayed.
By me.
“Grayson.” My voice was hoarse. “I—”
He looked up, eyes red-rimmed and mouth twisted into a miserable frown. “Are you sure you should be seen talking to me?”
A knot formed in my throat, threatening to strangle me from the inside out. “I’m—”
I was what, though? Sorry? Or was I about to confess that I was also Cardinal? What good would that do? But maybe I should. He deserved to know, didn’t he?
“I have to tell you—”
“Don’t.” The word was rough, like it hurt to speak. “Please, just leave me alone.”
I stood there a moment more, like he might change his mind, like I might be able to finish my sentence and tell him everything.
But then he moved suddenly, leaning forward to scoop up his phone. He opened it to his messages. The nameplate said Cardinal under a photo of Lady Zooms-a-Lot. His messages were all lined up in blue, along with the screenshot attachments. He was waiting for a reply. From me.
I was standing right in front of him, though.
Abruptly, Grayson locked his phone and wiped his face on his sleeve. “Go away.” Was he … crying? Had I made him cry?
My throat was tight, but somehow I nodded. “Message received.”
And then I turned and ran to the front office.
My dad came to pick me up fifteen minutes later. After he signed me out and we were in the car heading home, he asked, “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You know you can, right? I know Mom and I have been busy, but we’re here for you if you need to talk. I know this online stuff has been hard.”
“Could I take the rest of the semester off school?”
He looked at me askance. “Do you think that would make the situation any better?”
“Maybe. It would make it so I don’t have to deal with it. At least for another month. And by then, everyone will have forgotten.” Everyone but Grayson and me, that is.
I still hadn’t answered his text messages.
The ones where he’d said he needed me, not knowing that I was the one who’d hurt him.
“I don’t believe in avoiding your problems,” Dad said firmly. “So no, you can’t have the rest of the semester off. It’s only a couple of weeks.”
Eternity, basically.
“I thought you were really sick,” he went on.
“I feel sick.”
He shook his head. “No, you feel feelings. And I get it. They’re real and they’re tough to deal with. But I’d have made you stay at school if I had known.”
I slumped in my seat. “I’m sorry to make you leave work.”
“I wasn’t at work.” Another one of those sideways looks, like I’d been caught not paying attention to something huge. “The guy from the foundation company came to look at our basement. He actually finished just a minute before you texted.”
Oh, the basement crack. The only thing in the house that caused more trouble than me.
“We’re really lucky we caught it early,” Dad said as he turned down our road. “And we’re extra lucky they have a team that can come out in a couple weeks. We barely have to wait!”
“Yay.”
“They’re going to put up a bunch of steel beams …”
I tuned him out, and as soon as he pulled into the driveway, I lunged out of the car and hurried to my bedroom, where no one wanted to talk about torque wrenches.
Instead, like someone who definitely had a problem picking emotional scabs, I turned to my phone. It had a bunch more messages for me.
Alexis:
girl you are ICE COLD using him as a shield after what you said
how dare you
nm what i said before about the mh text
maybe you did say it idk
you’re heartless
Sophia:
honestly can’t believe you
legit think you should be expelled for all that
grayson is who he is but even he deserves better
Was it possible for my heart to sink any lower? It was definitely through my feet and into the crust of the Earth. Maybe into the mantle.
I moved on to Jess’s messages, which were timestamped from right before lunch all the way to now.
Jess:
thanks for checking on me but i’m ok
brace yourself this is going to be bad!!!!!
omg virginia!!!
omg i’m sorry i wish i could have warned you sooner
omg are you ok?
hey fr where did you go?
ok well lmk how you’re doing
when you can
this was so uncalled for on their part
Me:
I went home.
I just couldn’t stay there anymore.
I tried to talk to him but …
I didn’t expect a reply, since Jess was supposed to be in English right now, but the typing bubble popped up right away.
Jess:
yeah he looked really upset
Me:
The worst thing is I barely remember writing those things
I didn’t even mean them
I just felt like Kat was attacking me and I had to defend myself
And then I forgot all about it
I wish I had just let Kat be Kat and ignored her
I wish I had never been her friend
Jess:
relatable
i don’t want to be her friend anymore either
or mh’s friend
i have to go, talk later?
Me:
Yeah okay
I slouched deeper into my bed and reread the texts. It was good to talk to Jess again. I missed being friends with her. As much as I’d loved sharing my photos with Knight—Grayson—Jessica had been the first person to tell me I had talent.
Maybe … maybe she would want to hang out again.
Or maybe not. Everyone at school hated me now. Everyone. She shouldn’t risk it.
I swiped over to Knight’s messages, changed his name in my contacts, and read through everything again. As I did, I could picture his broken expression, the glint of tears as he’d looked up at me. I really was the worst.
There were new messages, too.
Grayson:
Now there are all these people talking to me who haven’t talked to me since I quit football
Acting like we’ve been friends this whole time
Because they only care that I’m a random side character in today’s drama
Like, the one that gets into a shocking and tragic situation and the chapter ends on a cliffhanger, but ultimately, the main characters will figure things out
And then everyone will forget about me again
Whenever this blows over
Sorry I keep talking about this
I’m just so …
My heart ached reading his messages. Poor Grayson. To suddenly have everyone notice him again—when they hadn’t cared about him at all once he wasn’t winning games anymore … They weren’t even supporting him so much as showing their dislike of me.
Me:
I’m so sorry.
My thumbs typed and hit send so quickly I hardly registered I was doing it.
Me:
You’re not a random side character, I promise
I don’t know how to say this without sounding weird, but you’re a main character in my life
When my world ended, you were there for me in ways you don’t even know
And I didn’t deserve it
And you don’t deserve what is happening to you
You’re a kind, generous, and caring person.
And I’m just so sorry
I wish I could help you
Tears blurred my vision. Of all the things I’d said about people in that group chat, I regretted those messages about Grayson the most. Not just because they were the meanest, but because I knew Grayson now.
I knew his secrets, understood his shyness, appreciated his willingness to give people another chance—something I’d taken advantage of without even realizing.
Grayson was my friend, and I’d hurt him.
I’d hurt everyone I’d said something about. But with Grayson, our friendship made it personal.
Grayson:
Thank you for saying that
You don’t know how much I needed to read those words
Me:
What are you doing right now?
Grayson:
I’m in the nurse’s office
I want to go home, but I don’t think anyone can come get me.
What people don’t know is that my mom lost her job a while ago. She worked for a big tech company and everything was great … until they went under
She’s been looking for something new every day, but so is everyone else.
So I had to quit football and stuff because it’s too expensive now
And I guess my clothes look like I “stole them from a Ken doll” because I haven’t wanted to ask for anything new. The only new things I get are from my brothers and those don’t always fit right
I haven’t really talked to anyone about it because … it’s private. It’s hard to talk about.
And I thought this girl, my friend, didn’t care about that kind of thing because she was spending a lot of time with me but I guess I was wrong.
For a moment, my brain shorted out and I saw an opportunity.
I could, I realized, explain my actions …
in a devil’s advocate sort of way. I had the chance to tell him why I’d said those things, indirectly, like I was just guessing at his friend’s motives.
I had the chance to lead him to the right conclusions.
It’s what Mary Heather would do, I thought.
I dropped my phone, breathing hard.
Mary Heather was not who I wanted to be—a fake friend who agreed with you to your face, talked trash behind your back, and manipulated you when she needed to get away with something.
I was already guilty of some of those things, mostly thanks to going along with the Four Takes all the time, but I didn’t want to be like that anymore.
I wanted to be the person Grayson thought I was.
I should tell him, I thought.
Right?
I’d been about to tell him in the hallway earlier. Probably. I was pretty sure those were the words my mouth had been ready to make, but since I hadn’t actually made them, who knew. Maybe I’d been about to tell him I didn’t know how to play the electric guitar, which was true but not relevant.
Me:
I wish I could tell you how sorry I am about this
I wish the girl you thought was your friend had never said all those things
Grayson:
At least I still have you.
My future best friend.
No, I couldn’t tell him. Not right now. He was in too much pain.
I mean, telling him was definitely the most honest path forward, but could I really betray him like that a second time today?
He didn’t talk to anyone else. He’d been very clear about that.
And while a ton of people were paying attention to him right now, that was out of pity.
A sense of obligatory charity. Not because they cared about him. But I did.
I hugged my phone to my chest, trying to imagine the way things might unfold now. Could I keep up this friendship under false pretenses? Maybe I should ghost him. Maybe that was genuinely the kindest thing to do.
I hadn’t wanted to hurt him. And this secret between us was another hurt waiting to happen. The only question was … when would it happen?
Not right now.
I knew that much.
Me:
You do have me.