Grabbing a hold of my phone, I look over the image.
My head’s been replaced with a pig’s. They’ve even put a little tail on my denim-covered ass.
The worst part’s the fact that it’s of Zach and me. He looks as handsome as usual, smiling as he leans into me so he can kiss me.
Instead, he’s French-kissing a pig snout.
It’s from the diner, the day Zach handed Dyers his ass.
Someone in there took a picture and they used it forthis.
My shoulders bow.
I knew there’d be retaliation. I just didn’t figure it’d be humiliation. Especially as what happened at Dopie’s stayed mostly under the radar—only God knows how.
Another message pops up.
Pecan: Are you okay?
Pecan: Denny?
Pecan: D, come on. Talk to me.
Pecan: It’s so fucking dumb
I swipe into his message and type:
Me: Thanks for telling me, Peeks
“They shared it on socials. That means everyone’s seen it.” My mouth quivers. “That means everyone’s going to be oinking around me until this whole thing blows over.” I ignore the tears coursing down my cheeks. “You know what’s the worst part?”
Callan rocks in his seat. “Not particularly. I mean, it all seems pretty shitty to me.”
I’d snort. But… yeah. Fuck.
“I wish I could say that this is beneath me. That it doesn’t affect me?—”
“You’re human,” he chides, patting my hand again. It’s sweet. Just like Pecan and Zach, rushing to my rescue.
Maybe that’s the take from this.
The people who matter are here.
Speaking of…
The clatter of a bag being dumped on the table is the first warning that we have company. I brace myself, then I see Wynter slump into the chair opposite me.
“Do we know each other?” Callan blurts out in bewilderment.
“Yes, I was here to convince you to tutor me, but now we have other priorities.” She draws out her phone. “What are we doing about this?”
I blink at her. Callan blinks at her.
Then, we blink at each other.
“What are we doing about this?” Callan repeats. “What do you think we should do?”
“Tell the dean of student affairs, of course!”
