Page 94 of Fire Fight

My face throbs with shame as I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

I contrast the awfulness of my behaviour at the movies with the reminder that two boys attacked me because of Hudson. That for the past few weeks, everywhere I went, boys were hitting on me, discussing me behind my back. And all the time,he smiled to my face, held my hand, feigned an interest he obviously didn’t feel, and for what?

To claim prize money he doesn’t need, winning a pointless game.

But it doesn’t erase me cheating on him in a mall bathroom. It was inexcusable behaviour, and two wrongs don’t make a right.

Drake appears in the doorway, darkness silhouetted against the strong house lights. I duck my head before Ben sees me staring, keeping track of his movements from the corner of my eye as he slowly advances.

“He’s well mad at you for obvious reasons, but you seem kind of cool. For what it’s worth, I told him not to do it, but Hudson insisted.”

Drake’s low growl makes Ben jump. “Insisted on what?”

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I think nothing of it, then notice a girl nearby taking out her phone, and the girl opposite, and the boy sitting with his arm around her, and the couple standing closer to the braziers, and the ones sitting on the grass.

Everywhere I look, people take their phones out, staring at the screens.

“Don’t look,” Drake says but I can’t help it. I need to know.

My heart pounds as I click the link sent to my phone, the video auto-playing.

The back of my neck prickles as I feel everyone stare at me. On their phones and in real life.

It’s Hudson’s house. The day he stopped for me, and I got all muddy playing the game.

My blood turns to sludge in my veins. I’m ice cold from head to toe.

The video shows me in their shower.

“I’m sorry,” Ben whispers, giving Drake a wide berth as he speeds towards the safety of the house.

I can’t tear my eyes away.

Judging from the angle, the camera must have been mounted in the showerhead. The spray obscures part of the image.

Not enough.

And everything is on view as I turn off the water, drying myself inside the cubicle because I felt exposed being naked in a stranger’s house and thought the steamed glass walls offered protection.

Drake tugs the phone from my numb fingers, turning off the auto-repeat.

“I’ve taken care of it,” he assures me in a muted whisper. “It won’t stay up for more than ten minutes.”

My ears pick out snorts of laughter from the partygoers, a few snarky asides, some drunken mumbles. Nothing much but it’s just getting started.

“My man!” a boy from my English class calls.

I turn in time to see him give a high-five to Hudson, who smirks at me, giving an elaborate low bow while acid burns the back of my throat, wondering how I ever thought he was a nice guy.

“Don’t look at them,” Drake orders me, pulling my head into the safe comfort of his chest. His large fingers splay over my hair. “We’ll leave and by Monday, it’ll be old news.”

“Will it?” My voice verges on hysterical. “Because it seems more likely, the video will have spread everywhere, and no one will ever let me forget it.”

“I’ve already broken the link,” he assures me. “I promise you, on Monday, everyone here will have something far more exciting to gossip about.”

“Oh, yeah. What?”

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