Andthiswas fixable.
“She didn’t know about the post when she got to the hospital. I told her to watch it and went into Connor’s room. A little while later, she came in and asked to talk to me. Connor talked with her for a few minutes, then she and I went back into the hall.”
And I’d had my heart ripped out by the girl I loved.
The relief I felt was clearly shared by my friends, given the looks on their faces. “Okay. This is so stupid. I’ve got to go talk to Megan.” I got off the couch but hadn’t gone two steps before Veeti stopped me.
“Can’t right now. We’re due on the ice in an hour. Should be a pretty light skate, though, seeing as we nailed those guys so hard last night.”
Right.Practice. Followed by a team meeting once the coaches had graded the film from the weekend’s games.
Seeing Megan would have to wait a few hours. But I couldn’t let another minute go by with her thinking that I’d slept with Ches last night.
I took out my phone and texted her.
Just realized the confusion. Watch the post again. It’s reversed. Veeti slept with Ches last night in his room.
I got thereadmessage right away, but nothing else. I waited a couple of minutes for the dots and the eventual response along the lines ofOMG, so glad you pointed that out. Should have thought of that myself, and, in my more deluded thoughts, alsoHow could I have ever thought that? I love you desperately. Please come as soon as you can.
But no, nothing from her. Even after ten minutes.
But also, nothing along the lines ofWhat are you even talking about? What does Ches have to do with anything?So I knew our little detective crew here in our living room was on the right track.
With still nothing from Megan forty minutes later, I texted again.
Going to practice now. Coming to your dorm after, probably three hours. We need to talk this out. Be there.
A little bossy, sure. But I wasn’t going to let Megan Gaffney—the best thing that had ever happened to me—get away from me without a fight.
Chapter32
Megan
I was so stupid.I had been warned by Philly the first night I met Logan. Had been double warned that Logan was not exclusive boyfriend material by Ches’s appearance in his room.
And yet I’d still thought that we were in a committed relationship. I’d still fallen in love with him.
The humiliation warred with heartache as I rode back to Creyts from the hospital. I watched the video one more time and then made the mistake of looking at some of the comments.
There were thousands. Thousands!
Somehow Chloe’s post had gone viral. Her dream achieved. But in such a shitty, shitty way. And her follower numbers had gone up by over three thousand in just the twelve hours since she’d posted it.
The comments were brutal, as they always were in anything that went viral. There were different factions piling on. The moral outrage from those that felt Chloe had way overstepped by posting—even by filming—Connor and Paige. I agreed with them, but not to the savage degree that some of the commenters had—wishing rape or death to Chloe, telling her they hoped she lost someone she loved.
It almost had me feeling bad for Chloe, who no doubt was poring over every analytic, comment, and repost.
Almost. I found I could not summon up much sympathy for my suitemate.
Another group of commenters were well-wishers for Paige and Connor. These were easier to read, but still felt like such an invasion for my friends. I thought of Paige chipping at her nail polish during group, when possibly sharing thoughts about losing her twin sister was in a safe space, with a small group.
Now her pain had been shared with… God, the numbers continued to grow. Nobody had anything better to do on a Sunday afternoon than ghoul-chase on TikTok?
The most vitriolic of comments were aimed at Connor, calling him a pussy, saying he should have died in the accident, that he should just shut the fuck up because nobody cared that he lived. Stuff like that.
And the tangents, commenters fighting with each other over whose point was most valid. None of them were. They were all strangers witnessing a very vulnerable moment from two very vulnerable people.
There was a smaller, more targeted group that was very specific about Connor, whom I realized were more than just randos commenting about people they’d never met. It was obvious that this group was familiar with the accident in Connor’s hometown of Settlers Hill. People from that community didn’t take kindly to having their grief shown. Some felt Connor mocked them, which of course wasn’t true. Some made insinuations about his involvement in the accident. Some questioned why he had survived when his two friends had not. The stuff that I knew from group Connor himself struggled with. And here was his community seemingly validating his struggle. Encouraging it, even.
