My head snapped down to Shiner who was grinning deviously like the smug fuck he thought he was. “Not happening.”
“You already had her!” Shiner’s mouth fell. “It was the headline on the stupid blog.”
Cade snickered, glancing at Coach who was about to round us up. “You’re on that damn thing more than anyone, Shiner. You love it. So, are you calling yourself stupid, too?”
I rolled my eyes at their banter. “For one, I don’t share. You know this. And two”—I walked over and stood directly above him, peering down into his face—“I'm not finished with her.”
I felt Cade’s stare driving into my temple. “You’re not?”
Pointing my lacrosse stick at Cade, I answered with, “Nope,” and then stalked off to the huddle that was beginning to form.
I wasn’t finished with Gemma.
She just didn’t know that yet.
Chapter Nine
Gemma
The next few days at St. Mary’s were better than I’d imagined, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much because I had expected it to be pretty shitty. I kept waiting around for the blog post to show, the same one that Isaiah taunted me with, and by day three, I was feeling relieved that I hadn’t heard or seen anything about me being in the closet with him.
Sloane and I got into a good routine, and I met a few other girls too. My stress levels began to fall with each passing day of no calls from Richard, but when Friday rolled around, there it was. Just like Isaiah had said.
I snatched Sloane’s phone out of her hand during breakfast, and the blood drained from my face. There was a picture of me, walking through the hallway with my head tugged low, my worn and tattered books clutched to my chest. My chestnut hair was draped around my cheeks like a veil, shielding me from everyone.
The headline was all that I thought about during class. I didn’t even look back at Isaiah and his friends during art. I didn’t look at anyone.
“People have already moved on,” Sloane said, tugging me by the fabric of my blazer toward an arched doorway that looked as if it belonged in a Catholic church. A thin stream of light fluttered through the colorful stained glass, making the green a little more vibrant than before.
Once she pushed the door open, I felt the warm heat from the sun land right on my face. I breathed out a sigh, feeling lighter than before when we were stuck inside the school with people no doubt murmuring about me behind my back, despite Sloane lying to make me feel better.
“They have not,” I said, trying to find it in me to laugh. I came up short, and after a few minutes of walking in silence with Sloane by my side, she came to a sudden halt.
We were both standing up on a grassy hill overlooking St. Mary’s on one side and some sort of sports field on the other. I could see a huddled circle of guys in the middle, all holding large sticks.
“What are we doing?” I asked, bending down and pulling up my socks a little higher. It wasn’t cold out, but there was a tiny bite to the air which likely meant rain was soon approaching.
Sloane eyed me skeptically as I stood straight again, ignoring my question. “Why are you so worried about this? About being on the blog? Why does it bother you so much?”
I darted my attention away from hers, looking back down to my shoes. I’d only known Sloane for a few days, and I already wanted to tell her everything. That was how it was with Sloane, though. There was something special about her. Something welcoming. I wanted to be her friend in a way that I probably never could.
I shrugged, lying through my teeth. “I just don’t want people thinking I’m like that right off the bat.”
Sloane shuffled on her feet, the grass crunching underneath her weight. “Gemma.” Her voice was low as a few girls walked past us, smiling. Sloane smiled back sweetly, whereas I glanced away. As soon as the girls were out of earshot, she shot me a look that had me wavering. “I like you…”—she glanced down to the field—“but I can tell you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not,” I blurted, feeling the anxiety of losing the first friend I’d ever had.
God. How totally pathetic did that sound?
I sighed, bringing my arms up to cross over my chest. My lip teetered in between my teeth as a whistle sounded from the sports field. “I have…” Shit. Should I be saying this? I peeked up at Sloane, and she was waiting patiently, her delicate features loose and unbearing. “My uncle is really strict.” The words rushed out like water breaking through a dam. There they were. Out there in the open. The first of many secrets I'd buried underneath this nice and tidy boarding school uniform.
Sloane’s dark, delicately arched eyebrows crowded together. Her thick lashes fanned over her cheeks as she thought for a moment. “What does this have to do with your uncle?”
My legs were shaky as my chest constricted. “He’ll find out, and I’m not really allowed to have…” Anyone.
Sloane’s bright-pink lips formed an O as recognition dawned on her. “A boyfriend? Don’t worry about that, Gem.” Her smile reached her eyes as she grasped my arm, intertwining ours together. “There’s no way your uncle will find out.”
My stomach seemed to swallow itself. “He knows the headmaster.”