Page 287 of Filthy Elites

“I don’t know. She had to have gone through my phone.”

“You don’t have a pass code?”

“She knows it.”

That settles in my gut like a rock. It’s the most Anae has ever felt like his girlfriend, and her actuallyfeelinglike his girlfriend makes what he’s been doing with me feel a lot ickier.

My desire to talk this over with him evaporates into thin air. It doesn’t matter anymore. The picture is out there now. Even if it gets taken down, people have screenshots.

How will I ever show my face at that school again?

Defeat settles over me and brings numbness with it. It’s a relief in a way. After the lows, all the fear and the dread, to feel nothing is better.

“You can cancel the appointment with the specialist in New York,” I type back. “My mom won’t go. She can’t risk getting sick on a plane, and we can’t afford the airfare anyway.”

“Aubrey, I’m so fucking sorry she got her hands on that picture. It’s my fault she did, but that video is bullshit. She shot it weeks ago, she keeps a bunch of drafts on hand in case she’s low on content—or, apparently, she needs to fucking frame me and pretend I did something I didn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter. I never should have sent it. I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”

“Look, just hang in there, all right? Don’t give up on me. This isn’t as black and white as it looks right now.”

“How?” I ask, hating how sad it makes me feel. “It doesn’t matter,” I add before he can answer. “I need to focus on my own stuff right now. All of this is a distraction I don’t need. I don’t even know how I’ll show my face at school again knowing how many people have probably seen that video.”

“I’ll get the video taken down ASAP,” he assures me.

“It won’t matter. They’ve all seen it. The ones who haven’t will see screenshots. I’m just over it.”

“I’ll fix this,” he tells me.

“You can’t fix it. Nobody can. My whole life is a mess no one can fix and I’m sick of it.”

Tears burn behind my eyes because I’m not just talking about the picture.

“Thanks for trying,” I add. “I’m turning my phone off for a while, so…. Bye.”

NINETEEN

Dare

Anae ison her way to lunch, Mindy and Mallory flanking her, when I come up behind her and grab her by the arm.

Mallory backs away, wide-eyed, and Mindy gasps at the violence with which I grab her.

Anae is not all that surprised, so she turns to face me with a pleasant smile on her face. “Hey, baby. How’s your day going?”

“I think you know exactly how my day’s going.” My grip tightens and I drag her out of the hallway so I can talk to her without an audience.

“Anae,” Mallory calls, her concern evident as I haul her friend away.

“Go ahead. I’ll catch up,” Anae calls back before being yanked into an empty classroom.

I slam the door shut, grab Anae by the throat, and throw her up against it so no one can come in and catch me by surprise.

Startled, she makes a little noise as she struggles to breathe. She grabs at my wrist, silently and instinctively seeking mercy.

“You went through my fucking phone,” I state, my voice dangerously low.

Her delicate throat works as she tries to swallow despite the tightness of my grip. Her face is already flushing from the strain, so I ease up just enough for her to explain herself.

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