I flicked my screen on. A ton of notifications clogged my screen, and they were still popping up.
“What did Jenessa do now?” I knew it had to be her. Leader of the newly christened “Broo-elle Fan Club”, she’d dubbed it.
“It’s not what Jenessa did,” Reece said, steering me toward the guy’s locker room, where it was quieter for the moment. “It’s whatyoudid.”
“Me?” I reared back. “What’d I do?”
Reece shot daggers at me with his eyes. “You and Brielle. You discussed your relationship in line for french fries!”
“So?” I asked. Then it dawned on me. How did Reece know that? “Nooooooooooo,” I dragged out my horror at the realization.
“Yessssssssss,” Reece replied.
The locker room was thankfully empty. I collapsed on a bench. “What—who—how?”
“Well, someone overheard you guys talking about fake dating. They heard Brielle mention she was lying to our dad.”
I stared at Reece and could tell he wasn’t finished.
“And theyrecorded it.”
That was it. I officially hated cell phones.
“Who?” I launched to my feet. I was ticked now. That was an invasion of privacy. It was—cruel. It was—yeah, I was ticked.
“Does it matter? It’s been sharedso many times.” Reece couldn’t emphasize his irritation any more clearly than he already had. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at whoever posted the eavesdropping video or at me. “The point is—you’re out, no matter who posted it. You’re officially out. Fake relationship, fake Valentine’s Day chocolate, faketulips, fakeeverything.”
I was thumbing through my phone. I found the video. It was hard to hear Brielle and me over the noise in the restaurant, but it was there. All of it. Which meant, buh-bye extra credit project—unless I could readPride and Prejudicestupid fast—goodbye Friday nights at the Walters’ home, farewell to recruiters thinking I was a “young man of integrity”, and—well, I doubt Dad would care. He’d probably be glad if I got kicked off the team.
“I doubt Coach will be happy with you,” Reece stated bluntly. “It’s not like a school offense or anything, but it doesn’t make anyone trust you.”
No. It didn’t.
I was a fake.
Brielle was—
“What about Brielle?” My head jerked up from my phone.
Reece shook his head, his expression grave. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean?” I couldfeel a knot forming in my gut.
“The last I saw my sister, she was running into the girls’ bathroom to puke and sob simultaneously.”
I threw my head back and closed my eyes, groaning. “Not cool, not cool, not cool,” I kept saying.
“Nope,” Reece confirmed. “It’s about as bad as you can get on the scale of high school drama.”
Brielle
I was going to puke. I leaned on the sink, holding the sides of the porcelain bowl with my hands. Claire rushed into the bathroom after me.
“It wasn’t me!” she cried. “I didn’t post it.”
She hadn’t even been there, so no duh.
“Jenessa? Maybe.” Claire was willing to throw Jenessa under the bus if it spared her.
