The Boy on the Bridge

It’s been a while since I showed up and felt dozens upon dozens of people stealing glances and whispering about me. It hasn’t been like that since homecoming, when Hunter made a public stand with me.

This is too juicy for them to pass up, though.

I mean, it’s not often straight porn gets passed around—especially porn linked to a scandalous classmate.

The way some of the people look at me as I walk into the school building, you’d think they really believe it was me in the picture.

I return to my practiced routine of dodging stares and pretending not to notice as I make my way to my locker. Only, when I get there, I’m jarred out of my bubble by someone grabbing onto my arm.

My heart stalls when I turn and see Sara standing there.

“Oh my God, what’s going on with you and Sherlock?”

“What?” I ask blankly.

“I only have a minute, I’m late to class. I was going to text you, but I know things have been weird, and I know I was kind of a bitch at the party.” She looks down, but only for a second. The gossip-hound in her can’t resist getting a scoop, even if things have been weird between us. “But I’m dying. I have to know. Everyone’s talking about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you see the picture?”

I roll my eyes, turning back to my locker to shove in the books I don’t need. “Of course I saw the picture. The Photoshopping was terrible. I want to believe no one is stupid enough not to realize it was Photoshopped. I need to believe that. There are different colored orbs around all of our heads, for God’s sake. There wasn’t even an attempt to make the blend seamless. Even the asshole who made the picture didn’t expect anyone to believe it was real.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, I know obviously the picture wasn’t real, I was talking about what he did to Valerie’s car.”

I stop rearranging my books and turn to look at her. “What?”

She stares back in disbelief. “You haven’t heard?”

My stomach starts twisting itself into knots. “Heard what?”

“I mean, no one knows for sure it was him, but everyone is saying it was. No one else is crazy enough to even steal a car, let alone blow one up, but he’s a little unhinged. In the best way. It’s kind of hot. I can’t believe a guy blew up a car for you and I can barely get a text back.”

I gape at her, not comprehending. “Sherlock blew up a car for me?”

Sara bobs her head. “He stole Valerie’s car last night. Drove it out to a field and blew it up.”

I can only stare, completely dumfounded. “He… blew up… Valerie’s car?”

She nods eagerly, her eyes alight with excitement. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. Everyone is talking about it. Valerie was so angry, she started crying. I thought you’d enjoy that.” She glances back over her shoulder. “I have to get to class, but you should sit with us at lunch today. I’m dying to know more about what’s happening.”

I stand there with my jaw hanging open as Sara turns and rushes off to class.

I need to get to class, too, but before I head that way, I pull out my phone and open up my old text chain with Sara. I hate to ask, but I shoot off a quick text saying, “I need to know what class Sherlock has after homeroom.”

I expect it will take her some time to get that information for me, so I slip my phone back in my purse, close my locker, and head off to homeroom with the books I need for my first couple of classes.

___

When homeroom ends and we all file out into the hall, I check my phone to see if Sara messaged me back.

“AP macroeconomics with Mr. Daly,” she said.

I type, “Thank you!” and send it to her before heading off in search of Mr. Daly’s room.

It’s in the opposite direction of my next class, so I’ll be late if I go after Sherlock, but I don’t know how else I’ll get to talk to him.

I can’t talk to him about this at lunch in front of Hunter. I don’t even know if he’ll be sitting with Hunter at lunch today. Hunter has been eerily silent this morning considering I’m sure he has heard about all this by now.

I get to Mr. Daly’s class in record time. I take a peek inside, but Sherlock’s not in there yet. I don’t know which direction he’ll be coming from, so while I hate to wait for him in such a public spot, I have no other choice but to stand against the wall and watch for him.

Somehow, he still manages to sneak up on me.