“She dumped him.”
“I don't talk to Bree. I avoid her. I've been avoiding her since she started dating Holden."
"That's not what she's been telling people."
My stomach drops. "What?"
Pierce shifts uncomfortably. "Bree's been saying things. To Holden. To other people. That you're unhappy with Sutton. That you've been venting to her about your relationship. That you're only staying with Sutton out of guilt."
"That's bullshit!"
"I know that. You know that. But Holden believed her. I’m guessing Sutton is questioning things as well." He gestures to my phone. "That photo doesn't help."
I look at the image again. My arm is around Bree's waist. She's leaning into me. We're standing way too close.
But I remember now. She was crying. Makeup running down her face. She asked me to walk her to her room because she was scared to go alone. She said some guys from the other team were harassing her in the lobby.
I was drunk. Tired. I just wanted to get her to her room so I could go to bed.
So I walked her down the hall. I put my arm around her because she was crying and stumbling in her heels. Waited while she fumbled with her key card.
"She set me up," I say quietly.
"What?"
"Bree. She set me up." I'm remembering more now. How she asked me to wait while she grabbed her phone from inside the room. How she came back out wearing my hoodie—the one I'd left in the team lounge earlier. How she thanked me for being such a good friend and hugged me before I left.
Someone must have taken the photo during those few minutes we were standing there.
"She planned this," I continue. "The crying. The walk to her room. Wearing my hoodie. All of it. She knew someone would take a photo."
"That's pretty elaborate," Pierce says, but he doesn't sound skeptical. He sounds like he believes me.
"She's been trying to break us up since Sutton moved in. This is just her latest move." I try calling Sutton again. Straight to voicemail. "Dammit."
Ashton pulls out his headphones and leans across the aisle. "You look like hell."
"I feel like hell." I show him my phone. "Sutton's not answering."
He takes one look at my screen, and his expression darkens. "You saw the photo."
"Pierce showed me."
"It's bad, man. It's everywhere. The hockey gossip accounts picked it up. Someone posted it to the main school group chat. Everyone's talking about it."
"I need to talk to Sutton. I need to explain."
"She blocked you," Crew says. "Your calls are going to voicemail because she blocked your number."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "She blocked me?"
"Keira told me. Sutton's devastated. She thinks you cheated."
"I didn't cheat! I walked Bree to her room because she was crying!"
"I believe you. But that photo doesn't look good. Keira was mad at me, like I was the one hanging on Bree.”
“I wasn’t hanging on Bree,” I retort.
