“Yep.” Bobbi picks up her rather large bag. It looks like it’s holding textbooks, the old school kind that were common before everybody switched to ebooks. When she notices me staring, she laughs. “I overpack. And I’ve got some of my kit in here, in case I want to hit the gym afterward.”
It looks like a lot to carry around, but I’m not the one who has to do it.
“You know that most of the books are electronic, right?” I ask her, leading her out of the cafeteria and toward the closest entrance to the tunnels beneath the school. “You don’t have to carry around those books.”
“Honestly? I’ve got a hard time reading the screens. Paper works better for me.” She grunts as she adjusts her backpack. “Even if they cost $200 each and weigh a ton. I tell myself it’s extra weight training.”
We head downstairs, and the tunnels are packed with other students. Just a few weeks ago, they’d been practically empty.
We’ve made it to the first intersection when my phone buzzes.
Bobbi’s phone rings, too, as does everybody else’s in the tunnel.
We exchange a glance, then each go for our phone.
Dyschord Updates—All Students, Read Now!
It’s probably some weather alert or something equally mundane, but I open the message anyway.
It’s not a weather alert.
There are several pictures in the message, and I scroll through them as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I groan, flipping back to the first image.
There are five pictures and a video attached to the message.
Keegan, naked and crying. The images I’d originally seen on Pandora’s phone have been edited to fix the lighting. The tears on Keegan’s face are more pronounced than before.
Around me, students gasp. Some of them start laughing.
Several of them hit play on the video, where Keegan’s begging has been remixed into a catchy song.
“Wow,” Bobbi whispers. “That’s. Um.”
“Holy fuck,” some guy yells. “Isn’t this that Chaos douchebag?”
“Yeah. He beat up Collin last year,” somebody responds.
Somehow that information doesn’t surprise me.
I’d wonder what the hell Pandora was thinking to release these, but then, I don’t really have to think too hard. She’s hell-bent on getting revenge any way she can on everyone who touched her, and now that the storm has passed for me, Blaze, and Asch, she’s turned to the frat at large.
This is going to cause problems.
Pandora’s box has been opened, that’s for sure, but there’s no hope hanging around for the people who had targeted her.
“He’s one of my frat brothers,” I tell Bobbi.
In other words: I should really care about this, but I don’t. Or rather, I do care because now he might try to get back at Pandora for utterly humiliating him in front of everyone on campus.
He shouldn’t have shared those videos of Pandora with Stringer.
“Shit. This is…” Bobbi bites her lip. “It’s not funny. I know it’s not. But I’m kind of impressed. Who could hack the entire student body mailing list to send this out?”
I can think of one person off the top of my head.
Anastasia Voronkov.
