Page 82 of Look What You Made Me Do

Donald’s mortified spluttering about her language fed the roiling pit of rage as Ella plowed on.

“You think this is a media storm? This is nothing, nothing, compared to what you’ll have on your hands if you try to shut me down now. You might like to remember, Donald, that I have a very popular NFL player and his rather large platform up my sleeve and nothing left to lose. And you better believe that makes me a completely loose cannon.”

Ella slammed the phone down. And for a moment felt so alive, so invigorated, she could fleetingly understand why people took drugs.

Then her legs gave way and she flopped into an unceremonious heap in her chair.

On Wednesday, things were still manic and Ella felt like she’d been on the rack for months. Iris’s prediction had been eerily accurate – everything was a mess.

Her urban family had been exposed to ridicule, the negative publicity had taken a toll on the students and teachers alike and the Demons were finding it distracting. None of it was conducive to putting them in the zone for their first playoff game the following Friday.

Her phone rang not long after the bell had gone for the first period and Ella picked it up with some trepidation in case a journalist had managed to get through to her private line.

It was Gwen, Cameron’s biology teacher. “Cameron’s not here.”

Ella frowned. “Oh.” Cameron hadn’t missed a day’s school since Jake had picked him for the Demons. None of them had.

“I thought you might like to know.”

Ella thanked Gwen and hung up. Where the hell was he? He’d been quiet the last few days but then they’d all been a little preoccupied.

She called his cell phone and it went to voicemail. She left a terse get-your-ass-to-school message, then she texted the same for good measure. In fact, over the course of the day, she called and texted Cam dozens of times.

But she wasn’t overly worried. She was annoyed for sure, but she knew where he’d be come three o’clock.

Except he didn’t show to practice either. “Cam not joining us?” Pete asked.

Ella frowned. “Apparently not.”

“Everything okay?”

She gave a half-laugh, half-snort that sounded like an asthmatic horse. “What do you think?”

Pete nodded. “Some of the guys said Cameron’s been taking some shit the last few days from the other kids. About Rachel.”

Ella bit her lip as tears sprang to her eyes. Goddamn it – the woman had lived hundreds of miles away and was dead for crying out loud but still managed to cause Ella and Cam grief.

“Thanks, Pete.”

Heading back to her office, she called Jake, who was en route to the school and hadn’t seen Cam. She called Trish – not there. Thinking outside the box, she called a couple of the boys he used to hang with before football had set him on the straight and narrow, but they hadn’t seen him either.

Clutching at straws, Ella went to the arcade he’d frequented during his truant phase but there was no sign of him. She went home – not there either.

By now it was late afternoon and Ella was imagining him dead on a road somewhere or kidnapped by a serial killer. He’d never done this before. He may have been sullen, rude and hard to get along with, but she’d always known where he was – even when he’d been cutting class.

And they’d been making such progress.

It was almost dark and getting chillier by the second when the front gate squeaked. Ella flew to the front door as Cam stepped inside the house. She was so relieved to see him she didn’t know whether she wanted to hug him or spank him.

His casual, “Hey,” morphed her relief to anger.

“Don’t hey me,” she snapped. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick all afternoon.”

“Around,” he muttered, that mulish look she knew so well on his face.

“Around?” Ella winced at the shrillness of her voice as she tried to keep herself in check, aware that Daisy and Iris – no Rosie thankfully – were out on the back porch. But seriously, around? “Are you kidding me right now?”

Cameron went to push past her. “I don’t want to talk.”

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