Chapter 35

At first, I tried to text Hunter. Then I tried to call, and when his phone started going straight to voicemail, I stopped. Turned out, Hunter wasn't the only one getting messages. I received notifications all weekend. But they weren't shitty apologies—no, not for me. It seemed the girls in my class felt the need to inform me what a slut I was, just in case I managed to forget.

The boys were even worse. Some said hey, while others requested various favors. One boy asked me if I'd let him put his dick in me if one of his parents somehow married into Scott's family. I tried to convince myself the unoriginality was the most offensive part, but that wasn't true. The words cut me sharper than any razor, and instead of the calm relief that followed cutting, I felt nothing but stinging hurt. I should have turned my phone off and deleted all my social media, but I didn't. I huddled beneath my blankets and read each word as if it was scripture.

* * *

It didn't stop there either.On Monday morning, I made my way to my locker, but I stopped two feet in front of it, blinking back tears as people weaved past me. Someone had spray-painted four silver letters, S-L-U-T, the edges curling and feminine. My locker-neighbor sidled up beside me. She threw a dirty look in my direction as if I'd painted the letters myself and had just taken a step back to admire my handiwork.

The awful word followed me, drifting behind me like a ghost. Every time I turned around, the voices dispersed, and my head spun, wondering if I'd imagined the dirty looks and cruel whispers or if they were really there.

I walked past Hunter's locker on my way to homeroom, hoping to catch sight of him. I didn't know why, maybe for my own self-destructiveness. But I froze. My stomach lurched forward, because his locker was worse than mine—so much worse. The tears surged to the surface again, except this time, I couldn't blink them back. People watched me beneath hushed murmurs and snickers, and I could feel their entertainment as I charged toward his locker, my heart pounding.

The same picture was taped to Hunter's locker over and over and over. They covered every inch of it. There had to be at least fifty, and I grasped for them, ripping them down in desperate handfuls as I tried to choke down air in the process.

"Leave it," a clear voice said from behind me, and I spun around. Hunter's face was blank as he stared past me at his locker.

My face burned as he inspected it, his head tilted to one side in narrowed interest. I'd tried burying the picture two years ago. I'd even reported it to Instagram, and it had disappeared for a while, but there it was again, mocking me. Scott was sitting on the black leather couch in his basement with me on his lap. My dress was short and black, and it had ridden up to the tops of my thighs. He was grinning, his arms wrapped around me, and instead of looking at the camera, both my eyes were closed as I pressed my lips to his cheek.

Hunter stepped forward as though I wasn't standing there. He bent his head to put in his locker combination and swung it open, lazy as ever.

"Hunter." My half whisper was weaker than my attempts not to cry.

He unzipped his backpack, ignoring me.

"Hunter, please."

He straightened, and the muscles of his jaw throbbed alongside his temple. "What do you want, Alice?"

I stiffened, staring at him, because even though I knew he was furious, the hatred was still gut-wrenching. I felt a tear slip free. "Can I please take them down?"

His gaze swept over my face, catching on the tear, and I thought there might have been a flicker of sympathy. But when he looked back at his locker, he shrugged. His gaze darkened as he closed it. "Nah. I like it. You look hot."

The words were an electric jolt, but I still couldn't bring myself to step away from him. "It's really complicated."

He swung his backpack over his shoulder and pinned me with a scowl usually reserved for everyone else.

"It didn't have to be complicated." He pointed at me on Scott's lap. "That's the sort of thing I meant when I asked if you guys had a history. You could have told me, but you didn't. You think I'm pissed because you slept with him or sat on his lap at a party, but I'm not. I'm pissed because I straight-up fucking asked you. I expect him to lie and twist things, but I never expected it from you."

I stepped closer to him, but it was like stepping closer to a rattlesnake after it promised to bite you. The muscles in my legs burned with pleas to back up, but I was desperate. "I ... I'll tell you the truth." I was still trying to sort out the truth, but I'd try. For Hunter, I would. I had to.

Instead of listening, he laughed. It was cruel and cutting, and I faltered under his glare. "You're not getting it, Alice. I don't give a fuck now."

* * *

The dirty looksdidn't subside. I entered the gymnasium at the last minute, delaying the inevitable as best I could. Hunter stood against the opposite wall, and my stomach heaved. I was afraid I might start retching, but instead of stomach acid, my heart would flop onto the gymnasium floor, still beating. His gaze didn't bother to meet mine, but I knew he knew I was there. I could see it in his tight shoulders and grim jawline.

I was one of the few people who took a spot on the attendance line as everyone else socialized in small groups around the gym.

When Mr. Downs entered, Hunter dragged himself over to the attendance line with everyone else, and I risked a peek in his direction. He slouched in place, staring straight ahead in boredom as if there was nothing within a few hundred miles that could hold his interest. Mr. Downs went down the line, pausing to look at his clipboard as he still tried to memorize our names after five months.

He instructed us to start with a game of knock-out, and I was careful to ensure I was always a ten-foot distance from both Scott and Hunter. Hunter maintained the distance, but like usual, Scott violated every boundary I tried to put in place.

"It's a little colder than usual in here today, huh?" He dribbled a ball between his legs, grinning at me.

I stepped forward in line, not even sparing him a glance. Everyone was monitoring us, and I didn't intend to give them even more to talk about.

He stepped closer to me. "Aw, come on. Don't be mad, love. You know I can't bear the silent treatment."

The line inched forward, and when I still didn't respond, his eyes flashed with impatience before he threaded his fingers through my ponytail. You'd think I'd wrench my head from his grasp, not caring if he ripped out my strands from the roots, but with his hands on me, I couldn't move. His fingers fluttered from my hair to my shoulders, and he drew me close as he pressed his head to mine. I could feel his beating heart against my shoulder, and I wanted to stab it from his chest as his voice fell low and husky in my ear. "You drive me crazy, Alice."

I swallowed, planning an elbow to his ribs, but my muscles didn't follow my numerous commands. I stood frozen and useless. "Is there a reason you're touching me?" I gritted out. I tried to twist my neck to glare at him, but any movement would bring his lips to my cheek.

He squeezed me tighter, then brushed a strand of hair out of my face, the gesture so soft that it was worse than if he'd yanked my hair out. "Don't act like you don't love it."

And then he let go. He released me as easily as he'd grabbed me. I tried to get my bearings, blinking back hot tears as I shuffled forward.

Scott dribbled the ball toward the basket and slapped Trey's hand when it soared through the net. My gaze shifted to Hunter. He was staring back at me as if trying to memorize every detail, and I froze, realizing the entire gymnasium had witnessed Scott's and my embrace. And while I had hated every disgusting second of it, I hadn't even tried to move away. Hunter was about six people behind me, and I thought there had been a flicker of sympathy before, but there was nothing left in his gaze now but smoldering hatred.

"It's your turn, slut."

I jerked my head back to the front. One of the girls stood in front of me, cradling the basketball with an outstretched arm as if disgusted we even had to share it. She was the same girl who always huffed and rolled her eyes while I waited to change inside a bathroom stall. She shoved it toward me again, and I took it in a daze. I hesitated before I took my miserable shot. The guy behind me knocked me out after a few tries, and I retreated to the loser side, careful to stand as far from the blond girl as I could.

Hunter appeared to be trying for once, though you couldn't tell the difference in his demeanor. He made his shots with ease on the first try, then tossed the ball to the next person in line as if his success was all some effortless accident. It reminded me of the bowling alley, and my throat bobbed, thinking of his lips pressed against mine.

"I guess I get it. I mean, he is hot." It was the same girl who'd called me a slut. She turned her head in my direction after Hunter took another shot. I thought her name was Stacy, but I wasn't sure. I pretended I'd suddenly gone deaf as her three friends glanced in my direction.

"He's not as hot as Scott."

"I guess it depends what you're into," the one closest to me mused, watching Hunter as he cycled to the back of the line.

"I don't really blame her ... if I could have sex with Scott Henderson and someone else, I probably would too."

"Well, it's the brother thing that's so weird."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, as unrelenting as the not-so-whispers.

"But they're not actually related."

"Still ..."

"Are you saying you'd have sex with two people at once?"

"Well, of course I wouldn't, but then again, I'm not a whore."

Hunter scooted forward in line, and though I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry for the hundredth time that day, my vision grew blurry, and I prayed he couldn't hear them.

"Can you even imagine carrying saliva between two brothers? It's so incestuous it makes me want to vomit."

"Again, they aren't related ..."

"They live together, though."

"So?"

"So, that means she was literally having sex with one of them while the other one was right there and vice versa."

"Eugh. She's vile."

Hunter was still standing in line, but the back of his neck was bright red as he gripped the basketball as if he was trying to deflate it with his bare hands. He spun around without any warning, and I almost cowered from his murderous glare, but for the first time that morning, he wasn't scowling at me. "Do you guys mind?"

His harsh voice carried across the gymnasium, and I ached with embarrassment. The group of girls stilled beneath his lethal gaze, staring at him with wide eyes, but blond Stacy was braver than the others. "Aw, are you still in love with her even though she used to bone your brother?"

By now, everyone had been briefed on the scene in the atrium and at Hunter's locker, and how both had ended with him storming away from me. It also wasn't exactly a secret that Scott and Hunter loathed each other, a fact that made the drama all that more interesting.

Hunter's eyes cut to mine. His forehead furrowed in confusion before his gaze snapped back to theirs. "I couldn't give a shit. I just can't concentrate on my free throws with all your mindless racket."