Dear Love, I Hate You (Easton High)

ool is messy, life is hard—I get it. Our intention is not to punish you here. You’re an excellent student. Maybe even one of our best. After all, only the best get a scholarship to Duke.”

My jaw tightens, a tear rolling down my cheek slowly.

They’re going to blackmail me, aren’t they?

“Wipe your tears, kid. We have a proposition for you.”

Yup, blackmail coming right up.

“People already know it’s you, but Zac… He’s been difficult to pinpoint. His confessions are… well, you know how bad they make us look. Parents are furious. All you have to do is tell us who he is.”

I steal a glance at Xavier’s mom.

She avoids my gaze by every means possible. She seems tortured. Terrified. She knows Zac is her son. She has to. That’s why she’s not doing the talking. Why she dumped this on Mr. Hall.

I bet she never wanted to find the responsible students in the first place. She knew it’d be like digging her own grave. She probably ignored the parents’ backlash until she had no choice, which would explain why their blackmail didn’t come sooner.

“Give us Zac, and I promise we’ll make this go away quietly. No punishment, no consequence. Duke never has to know about the havoc you wreaked here.”

“I told everyone Zac is an employee at—”

“At the library?” Mr. Hall laughs. “Yes, we heard. Too bad we haven’t had a male employee working at the library in years.”

Shit.

“Sorry to say this deal only applies to the real Zac.”

“And if I don’t tell you?” My voice trembles.

“Well, then, I think Duke deserves to know exactly what kind of person they’re letting into their institution, don’t you?”

I’m full-on crying now.

Choking on my sobs in the principal’s office.

“So, what’s it going to be? Choose wisely.” Mr. Hall rests his forearms on the desk, joining his hands together.

I don’t bother answering.

Why?

Because it’s already over.

No matter what he says next, I’m doomed.

“Tell you what, I’m going to give you the weekend to make up your mind. Come see us on Monday with your answer.”

I’m dead silent.

“Okay?” he urges.

I give a small nod and drag my feet to the exit. I know damn well I don’t need the weekend to know what my answer is.

I can’t do it. I’ll never tell on Zac.

On Xavier.

Ever.