Huh?
And Silas never posted on social, hardly even got on, so it couldn’t have been him. Who else would’ve had pictures like that?
Then Christy let out a gasp so quiet that no one heard but me. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and flipped through her sister’s social media. I looked over her shoulder and groaned in frustration as the pictures rolled by. Every single one of the photos in the video was up on Gabby’s wall.
She walked away, jaw clenched, punching at her phone like she wanted to jab holes through the screen.
Silas and Lemon hashed out what the next steps needed to be. He dialed the sheriff’s office.
I was torn. Did I stay with Christy and help her figurethis out? Or was my being in this school going to make things worse? And what else would Amber dish out before this was over? Thirty feet away, Christy’s tears were still falling as she lifted her phone to her ear.
I walked toward her.
“Take them down, Gabby. Right now.” Her hand went into her hair, her face so helpless. She paced, listening. “I don’t care how good you look in that family picture. If Silas is in it, it has to go.” More pacing. She was chewing her fingernails now.
She let out a frustrated groan and punchedend call. “She says she’ll take down the ones of me and Silas but the family picture stays because shecan’t evenwith how good her hair and makeup look.”
I swear I was going tocan’t evensomebody’s face if her sisters didn’t stop being so selfish and hurtful.
And then, just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, Mrs. Ross, a buxom blonde with huge blue eyes, threw the gym door open, stepped into the hallway, and bent over, trying to catch her breath.
“Christy,” she wheezed, and the way she looked at her told me they’d become friends. Had she sprinted to get out here? “You’re gonna wanna check your email right now.” She glanced at Silas. “You too, Mr. Dupree. It’s from someone named Jane Doe and it looks like spam. I don’t usually open stuff like that. But you’ll understand when you see the subject line.”
Christy’s face went pale and she swiped to her email. Then she clicked on the first one at the top of her inbox. Subject Line:Christy Thornbury, Principal or Pervert?It was the exact video we’d just watched but this time we finished it. Only forty-five seconds long, Amber must’ve known she had limited time at the pep rally before someone cut it off. Silas had shut it down before the climacticending that was now playing.
A picture of Christy alone in a tiny red bikini, standing on a beach somewhere tropical. The water was crystal clear and the sand was almost white. She looked out of this world pretty. Divine, perfectly curved hips, flat stomach, tan and smooth legs. She could rival any swimsuit model. And if I’d ever seen it before this moment, especially as her boyfriend, I would’ve ogled it. No shame at all. Even with the intensity of the moment, it made me want to carry her away from here and do things I’d told myself I wouldn’t.
But her expression in the photo tightened my chest. She might’ve been smiling, but there was a pain in her eyes that said she wanted to be anywhere but there. There had to be a story behind it but this wasn’t the time to ask. My lungs cinched at how beautiful she was. It was a fantastic snapshot.
But it wasn’t a photo you wanted six hundred of your students to see.
Then a Stallion blue background replaced the picture with silver words that read:
“Is this the kind of person we want leading our children?”
I looked up when I realized Silas was standing in front of us. “Pretty sure from the names in the email list, she sent it to every employee in the district. School board, teachers, everyone.”
Christy’s eyes closed for a second and then she shook her head, tears dripping down her face, and walked away.
“The sheriff is on his way right now. We’re going to nail her, Holden.”
I hoped he was right, but I wasn’t so sure. I’d tried turning Amber in after everything went down with Margo, but the cops said there was no way to prove she’d made a fake dating account impersonating me. They couldn’t find any trace of it. Amber wasn’t stupid. There wasn’t going to be a trail here. And I couldn’t worry about her right then.
I turned and jogged to find Christy. The hallways weredead quiet. She wasn’t anywhere in the central office or her own. I pounded down the halls, peeking in every open room. Had she left the building? I ran back out the front doors and into the parking lot. Her car was still there. I headed into the grass, planning to search every square inch of this campus if I had to.
I’d just pressed send on a text asking where she was when I rounded the southeast corner to find her huddled against the brick wall, knees pulled up, her head in her hands, weeping.
I sat down next to her. “Oh, man, Chris, come here.” I pulled her into my arms. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated over and over as my fingers tickled her back. I didn’t know what else to say.
After a few minutes, she began, her voice a shred of a whisper, “That’s the worst picture she could’ve chosen.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “We were supposed to get engaged. Sunset on the beach and all that. He even had the ring…”
“Rowan?”
She nodded, not even wondering how I knew. I intertwined our fingers, rubbing my thumb over her hand.
“I got up early to watch the sunrise the third day we were there. Went to Rowan’s room to see if he wanted to come along but his bed was empty. I kind of panicked because he wasn’t answering his phone, but I told myself to chill. I mean, maybe he ran out for coffee.” She wiped her cheek. “Or maybe he’d decided to get up early and watch the sunrise too. So I went for that walk and guess what?”
I couldn’t say anything. Her pain was so intense I was taking it for my own. And it was stealing my air.
