The Boy on the Bridge

My heart seizes.

That can’t possibly be right.

There’s a murmur in the bleachers, but no one even cheers; they’re all as confused as I am.

I look to Hunter thinking maybe he did this, but he looks surprised, too.

What?

The MC searches the crowd, apparently not even knowing what I look like. “Do we have a Riley Bishop in the house?”

I feel like I’m going to throw up. Heat travels everywhere, making my cheeks flush as I hesitantly step forward.

This is a nightmare. I don’t know how I could possibly have been voted in, but walking across the massive gym floor with everybody watching me is literally a nightmare I’ve had.

“There she is,” says the MC with a big grin, clearly lacking awareness. “Let’s give it up for Riley Bishop.”

Since they’re being told to this time, there is a mild cheer from the bleachers.

My stomach rocks. My legs feel shaky. So many people are watching.

“I think there’s been a mistake,” I tell the MC, my voice shaking a little because of my upset nerves.

He laughs. “No mistake. Come on, take your place with everyone else.”

“I write for the paper. I’m supposed to take a picture, not be in the picture.”

This time he ignores me and turns his attention back to the crowd, who need a little hyping now that my name has been called.

I feel hot and shaky as I walk over to stand with the people I most assuredly do not fit in with. The volleyball girl flashes me a smile, but I find it hard to look at anyone else.

Approaching Hunter in public has never worked out very well for me, and I’m standing up here on display with him now.

He’s at ease in a situation like this, but I’m a mess in front of this crowd.

I can scarcely breathe already, and then Anderson walks over to stand beside me. Horror swells up as he grabs my shoulder, and before I can stop him, he leans in and kisses me right on the mouth.

I am too horrified to kiss him back.

My chest feels like it’s going to cave in. My gaze jumps to Hunter.

His face is a mask of shock, his brown eyes locked on me, burning with barely restrained anger.

Anderson must not notice my corpse-like enthusiasm, because he settles his arm around my shoulders and turns to face the crowd with a big smile on his face.

Oh my God.

I’m surprised I can hear anything with the cheers from the crowd, but from just a few feet away, I very distinctly hear Hunter ask, “Why did he just kiss her?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear, baby?” Valerie chirps, sliding her arm around his waist and shooting me a sparkling, conniving smile as she hugs him. “They got back together after my party.”

Chapter Thirty One

Hunter

Rage tingles beneath my skin, tensing my muscles as I stand there looking out at the bleachers but only seeing red.

Valerie’s words are an explanation, but that kiss… that kiss was a fucking punch to the gut.

Didn’t matter that she wasn’t into it—again.

Didn’t matter that she looked absolutely horrified that I was seeing it.

He kissed her and he felt comfortable enough kissing her to do it with the whole school watching.

He kissed her and she fucking let him.

She got back together with him.

Unbelievable.

I ask her to homecoming and she tells me no.

I guess that means she’s going with him.

She doesn’t even like him. Anderson Milner is the boyfriend equivalent of the fifth safety school you apply to, not the coveted fucking Ivy Leagues.

Riley deserves better.

Yet, she shot me down to go with that motherfucker.

Here I am sending her flowers every week like a lovesick idiot, and someone else gets the pleasure of her company.

That better be all he’s fucking getting.

I look over at Riley again, remembering what she said by the oak tree about not enjoying being the center of attention. I can see she meant it. Her face is somehow pale and drawn while being flushed and covered with a light sheen of perspiration at the same time.

Valerie is so proud of herself. She can barely contain it as she squeezes me, somehow thinking she’s won the prize. Like I’m a goddamn trophy she can put on display to impress all her friends with.

Look what I have.

Disgust settles in my gut. I push her off me and step away. It’s too hot in here to be grabbed and clung to anyway, but if someone’s going to cling to me, I don’t want it to be her.

My gaze drifts back to Riley. Everyone was encouraged to wear the school colors today, and while Riley isn’t much for team spirit, she is obedient enough to listen to any rules that are thrown her way.

As long as they don’t come from me, apparently.

She’s wearing a red Hawthorne High T-shirt—I’m surprised she even owns one—with a black cardigan and a pair of black leggings that hug her ass pretty damn nicely. Her long brown hair is down and not even slightly messed with since she couldn’t have possibly guessed she would wind up in front of a camera today.