13. Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Rylan
"H ow could you be so careless, Rylan? I taught you better than this!"
My jaw ticks as I force myself to stay still, eyes glued to my father while he rants from behind his desk.
As hard as we tried to contain the social media outbreak, we weren't quick enough. And if the fact that Bexley fucking Spencer managed to embarrass us wasn't bad enough, my father is making sure to remind me of my failure.
We've spent the past thirty hours trying to mitigate the damage. Tai was able to wipe the videos off the platforms, but every time we pulled one off, another three appeared in its place.
People were saving and sharing the content, and although most listened once we started making personal visits to posters, the truth was… we couldn't stop it.
When I received a message earlier that my father wished to speak to me, I knew he had seen—or heard.
Max Astor is a proud, esteemed alumnus of Willowbrook, and as mayor of Ridgeview Valley, very little slips past him. He makes it his mission to know everything about everyone, and while he pushed me to this position, to be in power at the academy, he's taking great pleasure in reminding me that I've fucked up.
"I know," I manage to grunt out. "We thought we had control of the situation."
I thought I had control of her.
Truthfully, I agree with him.
We should have pushed harder. Instead of wasting our time pushing her limits, we should have just taken her down from the beginning.
Initially, we relied on the home ground advantage, knowing that Bexley wouldn't be able to do much in the way of retaliation. Setting up that meeting with Hunter's father, we had hoped that she would realize that any attempts of revenge would be useless—that she'd be thrown out of Willowbrook so fucking fast that her head would spin. Dean Lannister took no issue with involving himself, threatening her enrollment. I assumed that she would concede, since I know she wouldn't leave the Cedar Heights cohort on their own to manage.
But this—the ridiculous videos—was not something I was expecting.
Because the damn reality is… Bexley didn't take them.
She found a loophole in our schemes, setting us up for failure, knowing that no matter who someone was, people would always take pleasure in someone's weaker moments.
Sure, she stole from me, but how would I even explain that to the dean? There are no cameras in the locker room, no indisputable proof. And she didn't force my so-called friends to take videos and pictures. They did that all on their own.
Trust me, they are paying for it. But it's an uncontained virus now.
We can't even get her into trouble for what she did for Hunter. He was never meant to be near the room in the first place. The most we could do is have her punished for leaving detention early—but given we ordered Smythson to leave before the end of detention, all Bexley has to say is she left at the same time.
Regardless of the video evidence, Hunter provoked her. And Dean Lannister knows that if we spin it to blame her, the reputation of Willowbrook would be at stake. A poor, defenseless female, cornered in detention by a male after a teacher abandons her post. The media would have a field day with it. Willowbrook wouldn't survive such allegations—neither would Hunter or Dean Lannister. Their reputations are stellar, both prominent members of society.
And in turn, as Willowbrook community members, we would all be branded and tied to the actions.
Therefore… my father .
"You stupid boy," he hisses, infuriated. "Marcus is doing damage control as we speak, to ensure that these reports stay out of the hands of journalists. But do you understand what this would do to my campaign if word got out? It's an election year, Rylan. You know what's at stake."
I nod. "I understand. It won't happen again."
Dad stands from behind his desk, palms flat on the polished wood. "See to it that it doesn't. We've contacted George to see what else can be done but he's currently in Europe dealing with a criminal investigation."
When isn't George traveling? For the past few years, I can single-handedly count the number of times I've seen him in the Beckett residence. I envy Tai in that regard, whereas Hunter and I have the utmost pleasure of having our fathers breathe down our necks constantly. It's why I can't just cancel my credit card and get a new one. He would be notified and the situation would get worse.
"I'll speak to Dean Lannister tomorrow," I promise. "To see what we can do."
I watch as his knuckles crack, forming fists. "Marcus doesn't need your assistance. You need to keep your head down and remain out of trouble. I cannot even fathom how you let someone from Cedar Heights ," he pauses, spitting out the words as if they contained poison. "Get the better of you. I'm disappointed. Do better, Rylan."
Sitting back down, he turns his chair, facing away from me. His dismissal is clear, and without another word, I leave his home office.
The urge to punch something is consuming me so I head down the stairs, taking a sharp right until I end up in the gym. Bypassing the weights, I go straight for the punching bag, not even bothering to glove up before I swing and punch it square in the middle.
My fists rain down on the hard bag, one after another, until I'm panting with bright pink knuckles. My skin screams to stop, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of euphoria that creeps through my body, relishing in the pain.
I keep hitting, until eventually, my knuckles split, and little droplets of blood drip down my hands. Only then do I finally stop, dropping to the ground with my head in my hands.
I hate that I'm in this position. And like Dad, I blame myself too.
When news broke about the fire at Cedar, I didn't stop and consider for a single second that it would mean sharing our school. But even when Dad and Marcus were forced to accommodate the Cedar students, I felt nothing but joy.
Joy in the prospect of tormenting them. Taking our rivalry to another level, to truly show the kind of power we had at our school.
But fucking Bexley Spencer decided to be difficult.
I never expected her to just give in, to accept the situation, but I also never expected to be betrayed by my own.
Recovering from that embarrassing situation with the shorts, that was easy. We all do dumb shit. It's partly my own fault for not packing trunks. But it was the fact that Bexley went after all of us and succeeded.
Hunter's should have stayed under wraps, but Tai has already in the past expressed concerns that the security system at Willowbrook could be tighter. Yet, when Cedar invaded our space, we didn't stop and consider that we should circle back to that issue.
They are pathetic, worthless. How could any of them have any experience in hacking or breaking into systems? I guess we should have known better. After all, they are more likely to be criminals than we are.
Even Tai's attack, that should have been easy to conceal. But prying ears and our lack of awareness got the better of us. We were pissed, distracted, and of course, people heard—not hard when T was yelling about dick pics to the entire quad.
That showdown in the courtyard should have ended differently. But there's no way we'd be able to explain an all-out brawl. The rules are simple—keep it to the warehouse.
My breathing finally starts to regulate when I hear footsteps come into the room. I glance up, face deadpanning at the figure by the door.
"What the hell are you doing here, Liv?" I ask, exasperated.
She twirls her hair, leaning against the doorjamb. "I missed you after school today. I thought we could hang."
I regret that one drunken night a few weeks ago where I accidentally blurted the access code out loud when bringing her here. Now, she tends to turn up at the worst possible times.
Normally, I'd be all for a bit of stress relief, but my mind is stuck on another woman, and I'm too angry to deal with this.
"Now's not a good time," I grunt back, pushing to my feet and turning away from her. God, I'd kill for my AirPods right now. Because I know she's going to fight tooth and nail on this.
"But babe," she whines, walking toward me. "I came all this way. Come on, you don't even need to do anything."
Her hands run up my back, and she takes my tensing muscles to mean something else. I don't want to be touched right now, but Liv doesn't understand personal boundaries. To her, she thinks my body is reacting to her touch in a lustful way, shivering in anticipation. Wrong. I'm recoiling, desperate for her to read the damn fucking room.
Spinning around, I grab her wrist when she claws my shoulder, jerking her arm away. Liv blinks, confused, and I lean down toward her.
Little breaths catch in her throat as her eyes blow wide in excitement. And for a moment, I almost feel bad for the incoming rejection. But she needs to learn the word no .
Ever since we were toddlers and our families met, Liv has struggled to be anything except the center of attention. Don't get me wrong, I love a confident woman, but there's a time and a place… and that doesn't include stalking and breaking into houses.
"No," I say sternly, letting her see just how serious I am.
"Why not?" she pouts, unbothered by my grip on her arm. "I don't care about the video—"
I rip my arm back, taking a step back as her mouth gapes open. "Shut up about the video, Olivia."
Liv lets out a little annoyed huff. "Honestly, Rylan, you're being ridiculous. Don't let that Cedar trash get to you."
"I'm not," I bite back. "But I still don't want to fuck right now."
"We don't have to," she offers, jutting out her hip. "I'll blow you."
Sighing, I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "For the last time—no. I need to take care of a few things. And for the record, you cannot just turn up whenever you feel like it. Just because you know the code, doesn't mean you can come and go as you please."
"But as your girlfriend—"
"For fuck sake, Liv!" I shout, scaring her. "We're not dating. We're fucking . That's not going to change anytime soon, so drop the point."
The rejection finally registers, a cold chill crossing her face before she stomps her foot—like a damn toddler—and glares at me angrily.
"Do you know what people are saying about you, right now?" Liv spits back. "About all of you? I'm throwing you a bone here, Rylan. We can put these issues to bed. Your bed."
"Fucking you is not going to fix this," I hiss. "And I don't have time to waste. Get out of my house."
Liv growls, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Right now, I'm the only solidarity you have. If you don't take advantage of this, people will continue to talk."
"People are talking no matter what," I point out. "Now, stay here if you must. But I'm leaving. Be warned though, my father is upstairs and in a foul mood."
As I stalk past her, Liv quickly follows, jogging in her cheer uniform to catch up. "Don't let her win, Rylan. That's what that bitch wants. She wants us to be apart—"
Stopping, I almost laugh when she crashes into my sturdy back. Any other time, I'd find it amusing, but not right now. Turning, I glare down at her. "Bexley couldn't give two shits about our relationship, Liv. I guarantee that's the last thing on her mind. Stop making this situation about you ."
I know I've hit the nail on the head when she falls silent, expression tugging into annoyance.
Olivia doesn't care about the destruction of my reputation. She just wants to make sure hers doesn't suffer the same fate. I have no idea why she wants to attach herself to me when I'm in the midst of a crisis. Most people are running far away, not willing to be associated with any of us until we take back control—fucking cowards.
But the head cheerleader is so far up her own ass, that all she sees is appearance. For months now, it's been The Dance this and Cheer Comp that. In her mind, having a legacy on her arm will seal and secure her fate—make her seem untouchable. But doesn't she realize how wrong she is? Not heeding Bexley's warning was a mistake on her part. We encouraged her to go to the dean, to report the altercation. But if she continues to poke the bear, eventually she's going to get hurt. And we won't be able to defend it.
The key to this is playing checkers while everyone else is playing chess—to fly under the radar, to grab control from the inside. The only way to do that is…
"I'm not making this about me," she argues, placing her hand on my chest. "I care about you."
Even the admission falls flat, the words empty as she pleads with me to reconsider. But like before, I pry her hand off me, letting it drop before walking away.
"See yourself out, Olivia," I demand, heading up the stairs to my bedroom.
Thankfully, she finally takes the hint, leaving with a curse and mimicking a huffing train. I don't want her around for this, it's already threatening to send me into a blackout rage.
I pick up my cell, scrolling through the contact until I sneer at her name.
I hate myself for this.
But I'll hate myself more if I don't take back control.
That's why I need to play it smart, lead everyone into a sense of security. Punching out the text message, I swallow down bile as I hit send.
I can't tell Hunter and Tai about this yet. They won't agree. But it's the only way to get on top of this. If getting into bed with the enemy is the only way to win, then it's a sacrifice I need to make.