Page 33 of Released from the Sin Bin

“He said there wouldn’t be any girls there,” I utter, checking signs of a lie on each one.

Deeana sitting on Drake’s lap.

Sitting on Vic’s lap.

It looks like she sat on all of them. That doesn’t mean anything besides her being a huge flirt.

Drake holding Deeana while she leans back, touching Vic’s chin. Vic texting on his phone while Deeana snaps selfies of her in both guy’s laps.

Some more selfies of her giving duck lips.

Kylie sending pictures back of her and Alex.

I pause at the next one, it’s Deeana kissing Vic with those same pursed lips. Vic’s hand on her breast while they keep kissing. And if you look really hard at the one after that, Drake’s hand is up her dress and Vic’s tongue is down her throat.

“They like to share,” Kylie says as if I need an explanation of what’s happening.

“Those pictures are disgusting, Kylie.” Danielle sneers at our sorority sister.

“They’re not meant for everyone to see,” she fires back.

“He promised,” I whimper. Clearly, he broke that promise.

He’s not pushing her away. He’s not just drunk and doesn’t know what’s happening. He texted me right before the picture was taken. The phone is still in his hand.

“His girlfriend is your Beta sister.” Danielle fights with Kylie over me.

“That didn’t stop you from kissing Alex,” Kylie defends herself, but I have a feeling she wasn’t just hooking up with Drake a few months ago.

They like to share.

“You were broken up,” Danielle yells back.

“That fucking prick,” Jocelyn mutters, ignoring their fight while I stare stunned at the evidence of his betrayal. “Come, let’s do shots and forget about him.”

She takes the phone from my hands and steers me toward the kitchen, but I shake free and run up to my room. I’m not interested in doing shots or wallowing over my cheating boyfriend.

I need to end this.

We spoke yesterday. It’s only been twenty-four hours. We talked again this morning and he begged me not to leave him. He swore over and over he wouldn’t do this.

“Willa, what are you doing?” Jocelyn comes to my door, watching me fling my clothes around my room.

I quickly change into my leggings and tank top, pulling a sweater over it, before I find my snow boots and winter coat.

“I’m going to confront him.”

“You can’t go up there,” she blocks the door with her arms and legs stretched out like a star. “They’re calling for a blizzard.”

“It’s not snowing yet.” I double check outside to confirm. “He won’t answer his phone and there’s no apologizing for this. I’m done.”

“Exactly,” she holds my shoulders down once I get my coat on. “It’s done. There’s no confronting him because it’s over. There’s no reason to give him a chance to apologize.” She pulls me into a hug and normally I welcome any hug, but not this time.

I want to kill him.

I want to shove his begging and apologies down his throat and ask him why.

Why am I not good enough?

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