I look up slowly, and Wyatt’s gaze is full of disgust as he looks down on me. I told him I wasn’t a slut. I made him wait. And now I’m topless in his bathroom wiping Justin’s cum from my hair. I’m shaking as my face burns from shame, and I hurriedly pull on my shirt. Justin’s already recovered, and he walks over to the door, casually witnessing the commotion he caused.
“She failed miserably,” Pierce’s voice drags out every syllable. “Maybe it’s better that you weren’t here to see it happen, Wyatt.”
I jump up, wrapping the shirt around me and leaving my bra behind. I push past them, gritting my teeth and knocking them out of the way as I run toward the stairwell that leads out of the dorm. Wyatt’s angry shouts travel behind me, and he’s answered with mocking laughter.
***
I don’t bother to button my shirt as I run to the girls’ dorm. I stay away from the overhead lights. I don’t want anyone to see me cry—the look on Wyatt’s face when he saw us…when he saw me. I stumble as my vision blurs in the dark. I hurry toward the back door and tug at it. It’s locked. Someone must’ve kicked the stick out of the door.
“What happened to you?” I hear a voice behind me. “Are you crying?”
I spin around, and Charlotte Howland is standing behind me. Her eyes narrow, and her lips screw up. I don’t want her to see me as I hurriedly button up my shirt. I tuck it in, trying desperately to hide the wet marks.
“Are you okay?” she repeats herself, and when her hand touches my shoulder, I jerk it away.
“Don’t touch me.” My voice is stern, but the sentence ends in a sob.
She shakes her perfect hair, and it shines in the weak light. “You’re not okay.” She steps past me and puts a key in the door. “Come on. I have a key to the old restroom. You might as well join the club.”
I scoff. “Another club?”
“Don’t worry.” Charlotte opens the door wide and waits for me to enter. “You’re already a member. We all are. It’s called the walk of shame club.”
She cradles my face and sighs. “Boys are bigger pricks than what hangs between their legs.”