Chapter 40

The auditorium was silent. It was the type of stunned silence that followed one of Chris's performances—a brief beat of it before the place would erupt in applause. I used to crave it when I performed. I would hold the last note, my heart beating faster and faster as I waited for it. But when the applause started immediately, even with fervor, my heart would sink, and I'd stretch my cheeks wide, doing my best to hold my smile. I was a good performer, but I wasn't like Chris. I never made an entire crowd forget they were sitting in theater seats.

But it was there then. The auditorium filled with that same daze as wide eyes stared up at me. It stretched on and on and on, but instead of holding my pose, I just stood there, arms at my sides, as I stared back. And then, like with any good applause, the room did explode.

Scott stood first, the antique chair creaking beneath him. Hunter shot to his feet next, and Mrs. Rosin pointed a stern finger at him. "Hunter! Sit down!" She glanced around, trying to locate Scott, because even if we all agreed he deserved it, she probably didn't want him being murdered in the middle of a high school auditorium. And based on Hunter's expression, murder was inevitable.

Scott stood in the middle of the auditorium, hands resting on the seat in front of him. Hunter started toward him, but one of the math teachers jumped forward. I'd never had him, but everyone knew him. Mr. Collins exclusively taught the smart kids, but even if you weren't enrolled in his class, you still hoped he'd learn your name.

He was younger and more agile than the other teachers, but despite that, I still expected Hunter to skate around him. Mr. Collins put a hesitant hand on Hunter's arm, and when Hunter didn't shove him away, Mr. Collins wrapped his arm around Hunter's shoulders instead. They stood shoulder to shoulder like that. Hunter's chest heaved, and Mr. Collins talked low in his ear.

There was a shuffle in the middle of the auditorium, but instead of pushing and shoving across his row, Scott whispered and nodded as people moved limbs, letting him pass through. When he made it to the aisle, I steadied myself, waiting for him to run, but he didn't. He straightened the collar of his button-down shirt and gazed up at me with raised eyebrows.

"Making a false rape accusation is a crime, you know." His voice swept across the auditorium, and I hated that he could captivate an audience.

Mrs. Rosin pointed another finger. "Scott, stop talking and stay there." She turned back to me. "Alice, get down from there." She ran a hand through her hair. "Everyone, back to class!"

No one moved.

Scott's eyes narrowed. "Please don't tell me you're falling for this." He thrust a hand at me, standing in front of the entire school. "She's desperate for attention. Everyone knows it."

Mrs. Rosin turned to one of the other teachers. Her voice was low, but I still heard it, and Scott must have too. "Can you please go call Bill?"

The teacher nodded before scurrying off to call our only security personnel.

Scott clasped both hands together as he took another step forward. "Yes, smart. She's clearly having some kind of psychotic break."

Mrs. Rosin frowned. "Stop talking," she said, drawing the words out. She turned back to a collection of teachers milling around the bottom of the stage, unsure how to be useful. "Can you please get these students back to class, for god's sake?"

The teachers dispersed, waving rows of students to their feet with as much enthusiasm as construction workers waving cars through an intersection. Their attention stayed on Scott and me, just as interested in watching our scene play out as the groups of my classmates moseying across their rows.

Scott's nostrils flared as he took another step forward. "She's sleeping with my stepbrother, who happens to be the same person that gave me this black eye." He glanced around the auditorium and then back at Mrs. Rosin. "You're aware of that, right? It's a complete hoax."

There was some shifting and shuffling, but no one said a word.

Scott ran a hand through his hair, still glancing wildly around the room. "This is insane." His gaze caught on Brian and Josh as they were ushered from a row a few feet from where he stood. "I mean, people were there. She was all over me that night. Everyone who was there knows it." He gestured from Brian and Josh to Mrs. Rosin. "You guys were there. Go ahead, tell her."

Josh licked his lips. "I ..."

Brian took a half step back. His eyebrows furrowed.

Scott's wide eyes landed on me. His gaze flitted over every inch of me as if he was seeing me for the first time. It dropped to my feet and grazed over my legs. I could feel it probing to the deepest parts of me, and though I yearned to look away, I stared back.

"Do you think I'm really that desperate?" His laughter echoed off the chandelier. It carried over the balcony. It resonated through my head, rattling my teeth together, but it was met with silence.

Everyone had stopped moving. The teachers no longer waved people through their rows, and shuffling feet didn't sound across the auditorium. The stage lights had switched off at some point, and with the house lights on, I saw Melody standing in the first row of the balcony. Her arms were folded across her chest, and as she stared down at me, she brought one hand to her face to wipe her cheek with a swipe of her finger.

I spotted Margo next. She was a few rows behind Hunter, and her eyes were as wide as they had been when I told her why I left her at that party. She had been sympathetic. I remembered her arm around my shoulders and her hand in mine. She had also been delicate as she brushed strands of hair from my face and asked if it was possible I might have misremembered.

And then I found Hunter, but unlike Melody and Margo, he wasn't looking at me. His unwavering gaze was fixated on Scott.

Maybe Scott felt his descent right then and there. His eyes danced over the crowd, finally stilling when he found green eyes blazing back at him. Scott and Hunter stared at each other, Hunter's chest heaving with effort. Maybe effort to stay in place. It stretched on forever. Mrs. Rosin didn't order commands. People stopped ambling toward the auditorium doors. Everyone waited. And when Scott spoke, his voice was low, his words for Hunter. "She practically begged me for it."

Hunter didn't hesitate. He was out of Mr. Collins's grasp as if his arms were nothing. Mr. Collins was hot after him, and other teachers darted forward, shouting and waving their hands, but Hunter was only accessible by the row of students he barreled through, and none of them dared to slow him down.

The back door opened with a bang, and Bill, the security guard, charged in, barking orders at groups of students. "Back to class! Show's over!"

But once he spotted Hunter, he was moving too fast to shout more orders. Hunter made it to the aisle, mere feet from Scott, but there was a collision of teachers, and somehow, they managed to rein him back.

Scott shuffled backward from the commotion, his eyes wide and his face so white it looked as if there wasn't a drop of blood left in his body.

There was a brief scuffle of limbs, and Hunter's black sweatshirt was pulled every which way, but he calmed surprisingly quickly. Mr. Collins gestured for space, his arm around Hunter again, their heads ducked low as he steered him away from Scott.

Hunter looked up at me then. His green eyes dug into mine, and in that moment, I was hit with a wave of regret. Not for the way I handled things, but I wished I would have called out to him that night.

Hunter twisted out of Mr. Collins's grasp again, but this time, everyone had it wrong. He didn't try to spin left or push through the group of teachers separating him from Scott. Instead of charging any farther, he swung onto the stage.

The tears came faster, and I wiped them away as he crossed the distance between us. "Hunter, I'm—"

He tumbled into me, wrapping both arms around me as he pressed his quivering lips into my hair.

"Don't you dare, Alice," he whispered, and the apology brimming on my lips died before it reached the air between us.