I can’t believe he told her when I specifically asked him not to. He really knows how to get on my nerves. Now everyone will hate me, and I’m completely clueless on how to manage the inevitable fallout that’s sure to follow.
It’s impossible to focus on anything else for the remainder of the school day. I need to give him a piece of my mind. He can’t just do as he pleases, especially when his actions could affect me negatively.
Theo’s got football practice after school—an ideal opportunity to have a private conversation with him.
I’ve never been so angry with anyone before. Determined, I march the hallways to find him.
Chapter 10
Istomp my way through the main hall in search of Theo. If I was a cartoon, steam would be shooting out of my ears, and my face would be that alarming shade of red that signals an imminent explosion.
How could Theo do this to me? We had an agreement. A sacred pact. He knew—he KNEW—how important it was to keep our living situation under wraps.
But noooo. Mr. Can’t-Keep-A-Secret just had to blab it out in the middle of the cafeteria. Probably thought it made him sound cool or something. Well, congratulations, Theo! You’ve successfully ruined my life in under sixty seconds! That has to be some kind of record.
My eyes scan each passing doorway like heat-seeking missiles. Theo’s around here somewhere, and when I find him . . . Hoo boy. He has no idea what’s coming. Poor guy won’t know what hit him—metaphorically speaking, of course.
When I round the corner, muffled laughter and the unmistakable timbre of Theo’s voice drift from a room at the far end of the hallway. Bingo.
I press on, each step fueling the fire blazing in my chest. The closer I get, the louder his voice becomes—that same voice that promised to keep our secret and then betrayed me without a second thought.
Would he laugh it off? Try to sweet-talk his way out of it? Not this time.
My hands curl into fists at my sides as I take a deep breath, then another. I grab the doorknob and shove the door open, banging it against the wall.
Every head in the room swivels my way as I step inside and look for him.
The smell of sweat and unwashed socks wrinkles my nose.Yuck. Guys are nasty. I maneuver around them until I find Theo standing by his locker, chatting with a couple of his teammates who go silent when they see me striding toward them.
I grab Theo’s wrist, my voice a mix of anger and desperation, and yell, “Why did you tell everyone we live together? Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Theo’s eyebrows shoot up, and he glances around the room. “And this couldn’t wait until later?”
“No, it couldn’t,” I snap back, my voice rising. “And I’m—“
”—Chrissy!“ He puts his hands on my shoulders,steadying me. “Look around you.”
I pause and take in my surroundings. My stomach bottoms out as I realize I’m surrounded by shocked, shirtless guys staring at me, some grabbing towels or jerseys to cover up. One of them drops his mouth, and another lets out a low whistle.
Oh. My. God. My heartbeat stops cold for a moment before kickstarting at triple speed, and there is an explosion inside of me that channels heat through my arms and legs, then up my neck until it feels like I might actually combust right here among the half-naked athletes. I’m in the boys’ locker room. BOYS. LOCKER. ROOM. Could I be any more of an idiot?
My eyes dart frantically around this forbidden space, desperate to find an escape route while simultaneously trying not to see anything I shouldn’t. Muscles. Skin. Boxers. I slam my eyelids shut, but the images are already burned into my retinas.
“I’m so sorry!” I squeak, my voice about three octaves higher than normal.
Someone lets out a hyena-like laugh. Another guy hollers, “Lang’s got some nerve!” A wolf howl pierces the air from the back of the room as I spin around, hands now firmly plastered over my eyes.
Mortified, I try to run out of there, bumping into what feels like a bench and nearly toppling over. I steady myself against something firm and warm. A shoulder? A chest? I yank my hand back like I’ve touched a hot stove.
“Sorry, sorry, so sorry!” I babble, navigating blind, arms outstretched like a deranged zombie. My hip connects with what must be a locker door.
“Exit’s that way, Lang!” someone shouts, followed by raucous laughter. Clapping breaks out—are they seriously applauding this? A chorus of whoops and hollers follows me as I finally feel the doorframe and stumble into the hallway, my dignity in shambles.
I lean against the cool wall and bang my head, my face radiating heat, and it’s not from anger or frustration.
Chrissy, you silly, thoughtless moron! What possessed you to barge into the boy’s locker room like that? This is all Theo’s fault. If he hadn’t been so careless, I wouldn’t have been so impulsive. I knew he was trouble from the moment he waved at me in our living room.
As I wait for him to exit, his teammates file out of the locker room one by one, each giving me a smirk, a nod, or a curious look. I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my entire life. It’s torture.
