“Why didn’t Tanner just choose a different freshman in the first place? Plenty of girls on campus would’ve slept with him in a heartbeat.”
I’m over this conversation.
“There was something about Ember,” Mollie responds. “I was with Declan and Tanner in the student union the day Tanner chose her.”
I freeze, and my heart sinks into my stomach. The only way Mollie could know that’s where Tanner saw me for the first time is if she’s telling the truth. She was actually there.
“Tanner saw Declan watching her and jumped on it immediately.” Mollie shrugs. “How else do you think Tanner would’ve found Ember in the first place? She’s known Declan since they were like ten years old, and that’s how Tanner got his in.”
Maybe it’s best if I leave, reveal myself, and go talk about this with Declan. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mollie saw me come in here and followed behind me in a ploy to break up Declan and me. What are the odds that she’s spilling the beans after we go public? Why now?
“And who could blame the girl for falling for his charm?” she asks, and it almost sounds sincere… almost. “But at the end of the day, she got herself into the situation.”
The words burn because they sound exactly like what Cam said to me.
“Because every girl who has sex with a guy thinks to search the room for a camera.” Becky cringes. “It was one thing to film it because no one would believe she finally gave in to you, but to broadcast it at a party because your ego was bruised. That’s messed up. And nothing ever happened to him either.”
“And the pictures were overkill, if you ask me,” Kate adds.
“Well, there was supposed to be more of them.” Mollie fluffs her hair. “That’s what Declan was doing that night. He was putting the pictures up around campus. I saw him on my way to the party.”
My mouth is dry. I believed Declan when he told me he wasn’t at the party that night… but it was easy to believe because he wasn’t lying. He never actually told me he wasn’t involved in what happened.
Oh my god.
“I honestly feel sorry for her.” Mollie slings her bag over her shoulder. “Falling for the same stunt twice. You think she would’ve learned from the first time.”
The door closes behind them, and I open my stall and feel like I can finally breathe again. Even though part of me wishes I wasn’t.
I never thought I’d agree with anything Mollie had to say, but she’s right… I should’ve learned from the first time.
I thought I had.
But I guess I was wrong.
My hands feel like they’re on fire. It’s a sensation I’ve never felt before, like my body can’t decide if it wants to break down or explode with anger. Or if my body’s still trying to decide if what I heard was true.
The guy I know never would’ve done the things Mollie said he was involved in, but yet again, he wasn’t the guy I know then. I don’t know who Declan was two years ago, and I can’t help but wonder if I even know who he is now.
I don’t want to let myself believe that he isn’t who I think he is. It took me two years to trust someone enough to break down my walls, and he did that. He can’t turn around and be the bad guy now because how will I ever trust anyone ever again? How can I trust that anything between us has been real? How can I trust that these people who’ve come into my life since I let Declan in aren’t in this with him?
I just need him to tell me it’s all a big misunderstanding because if he does,I’ll believe him.
The street surrounding their house is overflowing with cars, and I bet their neighbors aren’t thrilled that they decided to live in a college town, but at this point, they’re probably used to it. I don’t even need to see the inside of the house to know it’s crowded with people, and the second I walk inside, I’m proven right.
It feels like an out-of-body experience as I walk through the crowd hoping to find Declan. Like I’m going through the motions but not really moving. People keep congratulating me as if I’m the one who’s on the ice every game and killing myself at practice rather than my boyfriend.
I don’t know whether to feel relieved or sick the second I see him. And once he sees me, his signature smile engulfs his face. He says goodbye to one of his teammates and pushes through the crowd to get to me.
“Hey.” He leans in for a kiss, but I dodge him, so his lips land on my cheek instead of my lips. He pulls back to look at me, and after months of getting to know each other, it’s like he can read me easier than a playbook. “Are you okay?”
This is the last place I want to do this, but the words slip out before I can stop them.
“Is it true?”
His eyebrows pop like he’s unsure what I’m talking about. I don’t blame him because I gave him no context to the situation.
“What are you talking about?” He leans down, his breath brushing against my ear, which usually sends goosebumps across my body, but it doesn’t.
