25. PARIS
VANESSA
My phone vibrates in my pocket, sending my heart aflutter. Sadly, it isn’t a message from Paris, but a text from Sadie, whom I’ve been neglecting.
SADIE: You’re a sucky friend. I hate you.
Ah damn. I’d better call her back to find out if she’s angry about my silence, or if it’s something else.
She answers on the first ring. “Oh, look who’s alive.”
“I’m sorry. My life has been hectic.” Not a lie.
“Yeah, hectic in Paris’s bed . How could you not tell me you were dating him?” she yells, forcing me to pull the phone away from my ear to avoid hearing damage.
“We decided to keep it on the down low to avoid drama.”
“Since when am I drama? You know I’d have kept your secret!”
Way to make me feel shitty about it, Sadie.
My excuse is lame, I know. I was afraid that she’d make me explain how I got together with Paris, and I still can’t talk to her about my attack, but for different reasons.
She’s going to find out after I report Ryan, but hopefully not before the game on Saturday.
It’s the first of the season, and I need the girls’ focus to stay sharp, especially with me out of commission.
I can’t fuck up our season by dumping my situation on them.
“I’m sorry, okay? It’s all so new and unexpected. I wanted to enjoy Paris without the world knowing about us.”
“Talk about unexpected. I didn’t think you cared much for the guy.”
“Well... I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“Shut your face. How come I didn’t know that? Oh yeah, because you’re an arsehole who tells me nothing.”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “How long are you going to stay mad at me?”
“It depends on your groveling. Buuut… you know I can be easily bribed.” She laughs.
And just like that, I know that we’re good. “A round of drinks on me the next time we go out?”
“Yeah, that should do it. Anyway, when you said you wanted to avoid drama, were you referring to his ex, or yours?”
I snort. Like I care about what that asshole thinks. “Mostly her. How did you find out about Paris anyway?”
“Not from Danny. He’d better not have known before me, or he’ll be sorry. He won’t get off easily like you did.”
I roll my eyes. Sadie and Danny couldn’t be more different in terms of personality, and yet, they’re perfect for each other.
Even her father, Danny’s coach, has accepted their relationship as end game.
I know in the beginning it was hard for him to forget that his QB was screwing his daughter, especially after he caught them in a compromising position.
“If he does know, he probably only learned about it recently. Please don’t go savage on him. He might not have had the chance to tell you.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to castrate the boy. I like his dick too much to do that to him.”
A bubble of laughter goes up my throat. “I bet you do. So, who told you?”
“Eh, you’re not going to like it.”
I’m about to enter the main building on campus, where the cafeteria is. I’m meeting Paris there in ten minutes, but I decide to finish the conversation with Sadie away from eavesdropping ears.
“Hold on.” I tuck my crutches under one arm so I can move and hold the phone at the same time. Then I change course and trudge to a nearby tree. “Why?”
“It seems your douche ex posted a video on TikTok accusing you of cheating on him with Paris. It’s gone semi-viral.”
“That motherfucker ,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Yeah. I blocked his ass after that encounter the other day, but the girls on the team didn’t. I don’t think they even know you broke up with him.”
“I blocked him too, and yeah, I should have sent an update on the group chat.”
“But how did that wanker find out?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, regretting now keeping my friends in the dark for so long. “I had another confrontation with the bastard yesterday.”
“You have got to be kidding me. What did he do?”
My stomach clenches painfully, making me sick. I don’t want to tell Sadie that he hurt me for the same reason I don’t want her to know about the assault. Damn it. I’m sick and tired of Ryan fucking with my life.
“Vanessa? Are you still there?” she asks when I take too long to reply. “If that bellend did something to you, I’m going to rip his nut sack off.”
“He—”
“You fucking whore!” a woman screams behind me, and I practically jump out of my skin.
I turn to see Lydia marching toward me with murderous intentions flashing in her crazy eyes.
Hell .
“Who’s that?” Sadie asks.
“The drama I was trying to avoid. I’ll call you later.
” I put my phone away before Sadie can reply.
I need my hands free in case the she-devil wants to get physical.
I hope she tries something. If she throws the first punch, I’ll have no choice but to defend myself.
No one will be able to accuse me of breaking the student code of conduct, and I’ll get my revenge.
The lying bitch deserves an ass-kicking.
Forcing a fake smile, I reply, “Lydia, always a pleasure.”
“I knew you were trying to take Paris away from me.”
My eyebrows shoot to the heavens. “ I was trying to take Paris from you? Isn’t that what you did to me? You know that plagiarism is a crime, right?”
Her eyes bug out. “What are you talking about?”
“Quit the innocent act, honey. Paris and I know that you stole my letter, copied my poem, and claimed you wrote it.”
“That’s a lie. You’re just making up shit to take him from me! I watched the video your ex posted on TikTok. You’ve been screwing my boyfriend behind my back all this time.”
Is this bitch for real?
“ Ex- boyfriend. And are you really going to stand there and deny you stole my poem?” I laugh in derision. “You are one crazy bitch. I’m glad that Paris is finally aware of how awful you are.”
She’s not taking my bait, and I’m sick of this conversation. I might end up throwing the first punch if I don’t leave. I try to walk around her, but unfortunately, I’m still wearing the ankle brace, and I’m too slow to move.
My only warning that she’s snapped is a deranged yell before she tackles me to the ground.
The grass softens my fall, but one of the crutches ends up underneath me and pokes into my back.
The most dangerous thing is Lydia and her long nails, though.
She tries to scratch my face and ends up pulling the bandage off my cut before I can grab her wrists and push her back.
“Get off me!” I yell.
Like a rabid dog, she comes at me again with bared teeth. I barely have time to sit up, much less to pull my arm back to punch her ugly face.
“Lydia, what the hell!” Paris is suddenly there, dragging his ex off me. “Are you insane?”
“Don’t touch me!” She struggles against his hold.
Meanwhile, someone else drops into a crouch by my side. “Are you okay?”
It’s the freshman who helped me yesterday. Philip Meester. Why is he always around when I’m in distress? Maybe he’s a stalker posing as a Good Samaritan. That would be my luck.
“Uh, no.”
He helps me up, even though I wish I didn’t need his assistance.
But I don’t think I could get up on my own, even if my ankle wasn’t sprained.
I’m shaking from head to toe, adrenaline making my heart thump fast inside my chest. I’m pissed that I didn’t get a chance to do some damage to Lydia like I wanted to.
Paris is no longer holding her, but she’s far from calm. “How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me!” she whines.
Oh my God. She’s still playing the victim card, even though I told her we know she lied.
“Do what to you? We’ve been broken up for six months, Lydia.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you were screwing that cunt way before we broke up.”
He takes a step forward, pointing a finger in her direction. “You watch your mouth when you talk about Vanessa. The only person here who deserves to be called that awful name is you.”
Lydia’s face turns bright red, and her jaw drops. “I—I can’t believe you said that to me! Do you want me to k—”
He takes a step back, raising his palm. “Don’t you dare say that. I will not fall prey to your manipulations anymore. I cannot be responsible for your actions.”
“So you don’t care if I die?”
Fuck. Can I punch her now? I can’t believe she’s doing this to Paris in front of all these witnesses. Of course a bunch of the assholes are recording the scene. I bet someone is broadcasting it live. I fucking hate how social media gives power to scum.
“I’ll be sad, but I’m not your therapist or your parent.”
Crocodile tears run down her cheeks. “You’ll regret your words one day, Paris.” She turns and runs away, shoving some onlookers out of her path.
“Wow,” Philip says, drawing Paris’s attention to him.
His eyebrows furrow, maybe because he doesn’t like how close the guy is to me. “Who are you?”
The kid’s cheeks flush. “I… uh, my name is Philip Meester.”
“How do you know Vanessa?” Paris walks over and draws me closer to him and away from Philip.
Man, it seems this altercation with Lydia dialed up his protective mode to the max.
“I helped her the other day when her ex was giving her trouble.”
Oh hell. Shut up, Philip.
Paris tenses. “What did he do?” His hold around my waist tightens.
“He stole her phone, and when she tried to get it back, he pushed her onto a bench. That’s how she got that cut.” He gestures to my cheek.
Paris turns me around and gazes into my eyes. His own are swimming with the hurt of betrayal. “You said you tripped.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to go after Ryan before I had the chance to report him to the police.”
Rubbing his face, Paris stares into the distance.
“Paris? Please, look at me.”
He does so, and I’m surprised that his eyes aren’t brimming with anger as I expected. I lied to him, after all.
The hurt is still there, though.
He pulls me into a tight hug, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from him. I’m sorry that I didn’t go after him and make him pay for hurting you the first time.”
“Don’t apologize. What happened to me wasn’t your fault.”
“Not the first time, but everything he’s done since is my fault. I’ll make it right, kitten. I promise.”
I pull back and capture his gaze. “You’re not going after him. Please tell me that isn’t what you’re planning to do.”
He caresses my cheek gently, then gives me a peck on the lips. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. Let’s go home.”