“Not my girl,” Beckham clarifies, “And I don’t know, out and about with her tribe.”
“Tribe?”
Beckham shrugs, “Her posse. I think her friends look up to her like she’s their leader.” He replies simply, leaving the conversation open-ended.
We revel more in our banter, now debating if tomatoes are considered fruit or vegetables. Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with Beckham. As we’re bickering about the background of tomatoes, I can see his playful eyes turn into a look of concern. I catch his gaze when we see Cassie across the room. The air crackles with unspoken tension, and I can’t shake off the feeling that something’s about to unfold.
“Did you and Cass end well?” Beckham asks out of nowhere.
“As amicably as you could think.”
A flash of concern lights up in Beckham’s eyes. “You sure?”
My brows hike up an inch at his follow-up question. Does he know something that I don’t?
“Something I need to know?”
He takes a sip of his drink, “You should ask Jared.”
“I’m asking you.”
Beckham gestures toward the back deck, his expression a mix of concern and determination. Without a word, he leads me outside, the cool night air hitting us as we step onto the deck.
Once outside, he takes a deep breath, “Has Serena told you anything about people talking about her?”
I raise a brow, “Talking about her?” My voice echoes around us, laced with disbelief.
“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, a troubled look in his eyes. “Like people talking shit about her, behind her back, or spreading rumors?”
I’m absolutely dumbfounded.
Beckham sees the look on my face, “I see she hasn’t told you yet.”
“Tell me,” I demand, my voice firm.
“Dude, I can’t–”
“Fucking tell me.”
He shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flits between mine and the party inside, the distant music creating a muffled backdrop to our conversation.
“Dude, I can’t just tell you. It’s not my business,” Beckham murmurs, his voice carrying a sense of unease.
“Look, if people are targeting her, I need to know.”
Beckham hesitates. “Okay, but don’t lose it, man,” he warns, lowering his voice. “I’ve heard that Cassie got dropped from the squad.”
“Cassie got dropped from the squad?” I echo, trying to process the information.
“Yeah, something about a stunt failing,” he confirms, a troubled frown etched on his face. “And now Serena’s replacing her, and Cassie’s pissed as fuck. Now that Serena is top girl, she’s even more pissed.”
“I swear if Cassie’s starting shit–”
“There’s more,” Beckham’s voice cuts through. “I’m worried that she’s going to try something with Serena. There’s talk going around that people are digging into Serena’s past. I mean, we’ve all been around forever, but she’s been a mystery until now. So, people are… curious about her.”
My fists clench, an instinctive urge to protect her welling up inside me. “What kind of shit are they saying?”
“I haven’t heard anything yet. Jared’s trying to keep it at bay, but I just don’t know what Cassie will pull with the whole cheer drama now.”
