Ford glances back at my dad, who’s also walked into the kitchen. I set my piece of cinnamon roll back in the pan.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Nobody says anything, and my dad hands me part of the newspaper. It’s page eight, the sports section, and on the front is a large color photo of me kissing Ford’s hand. The caption readsGood Luck Charm.The sentence at the bottom of the image says,Hannah Clark kisses her boyfriend Crawford Cross in the palm of his hand of his throwing arm for good luck.I scoff. “Idiots, I kissed his right hand. His left hand’s his throwing arm.” At least now everybody knows we’reboyfriend and girlfriend. I admit I got caught up in the moment with him. If I’d really thought about what was happening and that everyone was watching, I might have had second thoughts, but I still would have kissed him.
“You’re not mad?” Jack asks.
I set the paper down. “I don’t—no—not really. A stadium full of people saw us last night. The website is worse.” I didn’t need this crap this morning. I turn around, grab a paper plate, and shove a whole cinnamon roll plus the piece I pulled off a different roll on to it.
“What website?” My dad’s brow furrows with concern, and he glances between us.
I glance at Ford. “I was waiting for you to talk to him.” I glance at Jack and point to him. “Both he and T. know. We talked about it this morning before Tyler left.”
“Okay.” I sigh, turning to my dad. “There’s a fan website for Ford, Jack, and Tyler.”
My dad bobs his head and purses his lips. I know this look well. He’s contemplating precisely what he wants to say. “It sounds innocent enough, but I—”
“It’s not,” the three of us say together.
“I’ll grab my laptop. It’s still in my backpack.” My dad and I sit at the counter, and Ford and Jack stand behind us. I pull up the website using Aubrey’s information. When I click on the main page, there’s a picture from the end of the game last night. My arms are wrapped around Ford’s neck, and he’s squeezing my ass. This caption reads,Star quarterback Ford Cross getting a head start on celebrating tonight’s win against Ravenwood High. I drop my head into my hands. I really should’ve stayed in bed.
Nobody says anything, but I can feel the tension radiating behind me from Ford. My dad takes the mouse from me and continues to scroll down the site. The next picture is one of Ford talking to Chanel. The caption underneath saysFord’s old flame wants him back.
“I can’t—who’s coming up with this shit—I can’t look at this anymore.” Ford walks out of the kitchen and heads downstairs.
I move to get up, but Jack puts a hand on my shoulder. “You stay and explain things to Jim. I’ll go check on Ford.”
I nod. “Yeah, okay.” But I’m not okay.
“Are the pictures going to get worse?”
I glance at my dad. “Worse?” How could they possibly be worse than this?
My dad scratches his jaw. “Are any of the pictures going to show you and Ford—”
“What? No! Just—hold on. Let me find a particular post.” I take the mouse back and scroll down a little further until I get to the picture of me and Ford sitting at his kitchen counter, eating veggies and dip. The caption is disgusting. It says,Lunchtime quickie. “Please ignore the caption, but this picture was taken by someone snooping outside Ford’s house from his backyard.” I keep scrolling and show him the other picture that freaked me out. The one of Ford and me on his front steps. “Same with this photo. Someone took this picture from across the street. The website requires you to make a username and password to comment and look at the posts. My friend Aubrey said she had to use her school email. Is there anything we can do to get the website taken down?”
Ford and Jack come back upstairs. Ford still seems tense, but his jaw isn’t clenched anymore. “I got surveillance footage from my home’s security system, and I took a picture of his car and license plate. He parked it in front of my house.”
“He? Did you recognize who it was?” I ask.
“No. It looks like a guy. He’s wearing a baseball cap and sneakers. But he had on aviator sunglasses, and I couldn’t tell who he was. The only guys I interact with at school are my close friends or the guys who play sports.”
My dad nods, listening to everything we tell him. He scrolls through the website again. “What’s this?” He points to the tabs at the top.
“Those are fan sites for Jack and Tyler.” My dad clicks on Jack’s tab, and a picture of him making out with Alison pops up. That must be an old picture.
Jack groans from behind me. “That wasn’t there an hour ago.” He curses, punching the air. He grabs his keys and yanks the front door open, leaving.
Ford gives me a sad smile and then follows Jack outside. I jerk my head back to the computer. I lean in, looking closer at the picture, and realize it was from last night. I scroll down, reading the caption.Back Together. There’s a small paragraph under the caption.
Tight end Jack Fitzgerald was getting reacquainted with ex-girlfriend Alison Williams last night during the football after party at Jack’s home. For all those who don’t know, Alison is the former best friend of Hannah Clark. And here’s a news flash no one knew about. Hannah and Jack are stepsiblings and live in the same home. Clark completely lost it at a party last June when she found these two lovebirds making out. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when she sees this picture.
I turn to my dad. “How do we get this website taken down?”
He taps his fingers along the counter for several long seconds. “Well, first, I need you to make an account in your name.”
“Can Jack or Ford do it instead?” I don’t want whoever runs this awful site to know I’ve looked at it.
