The Boy on the Bridge

The first one is normal, she’s just checking in on me because she knew I was coming to this party with Anderson tonight. But then she starts asking me what’s happening at the party, first just out of curiosity, but as the messages get newer, the urgency grows.

There’s a screenshot. The message above it says, “Wally posted this from the party. Are you still there? What’s he talking about? Is he there with somebody?”

I click the screenshot of Wally’s post and my heart slides into my stomach.

It’s a picture of Valerie’s bedroom door with the slimy caption “where the magic is happening tonight.”

There are a bunch of likes already and a few comments from partygoers. Mostly mindless commentary, but my stomach drops again when I read someone’s comment: “And she’s a screamer!”

I shake my head, horror and denial at war with each other inside me.

Is that about me?

I look at the picture again, verifying it is, in fact, Valerie’s bedroom door. It was posted 20 minutes ago, so… it has to be.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Riley…”

Slowly, I turn my head to look at Hunter.

The look on his face has become more guarded, but I can still see traces of guilt.

I need to get to a bathroom or I’m going to throw up all over Valerie’s bedroom. I snatch my shirt off the floor, shakily pulling it on and buttoning the most important buttons so I can get the hell out of here.

“Wait,” Hunter says as I make a beeline for the door. “Riley, don’t—”

Before he can finish, I yank open the bedroom door.

Then I halt suddenly, as if I’ve run into an invisible wall.

The hallway that was empty when I walked down it before is crowded now, lined on both sides with our classmates.

And they’re all staring right at me.

Chapter Twenty Two

Riley

Horror paralyzes me when all I want in the world is to flee.

I look down the crowded hallway, seeing every smirk, hearing every snicker. I can feel the ridicule in the air, as real as raindrops hitting my skin.

Wally stands off to the side, his smirk the most noticeable.

I want to run, but I can’t move. I think about him coming to find me on the back porch, bringing me to Hunter.

I should have known this was a trap.

Why didn’t I know?

I know the answer, though.

I never thought Hunter would stoop this low. Lying about taking my virginity and spreading it around the school was one thing.

Actually doing it and using it to humiliate me like this… that’s a whole other thing, and I didn’t think he would do that to me.

He has the nerve to touch my back as he walks up behind me. “Come back inside. Let me explain.”

“Get your hands off me,” I say, my voice shaky with a potent mix of rage and humiliation.

“I fucked up,” he says lowly. “I made a mistake. I realized it as soon as—”

“Stop. Talking.”

He grabs my wrist, grabs my hip with his other hand and tries to pull me back inside. “Let’s talk about this. I took it too far, I know that—”

“Get your hands off me,” I say more loudly, shoving him.

I can’t breathe properly. My chest is tightening, panic gathering as I struggle.

And then the nightmare gets worse as a new monster comes out of the closet.

At the other end of the hallway, Valerie comes into view. She’s still wearing her red and black cheerleader outfit from the game tonight, her skimpy skirt and long sleeved top. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a high ponytail with a sparkly crimson scrunchie. Her hand is on her slim hip, her blue eyes narrowed with hatred as she looks at me.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” she says, her words increasing in volume as she storms down the hall.

Hunter pushes me out of the way so he can get out of the bedroom. “Valerie—” he begins, a clear warning in his tone, but she doesn’t let him finish.

“And you,” she says, eyes wide as she shoves him in the chest. “Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?”

I stumble back a step, momentarily distracted by my own horror. I’ve never seen Valerie stand up to Hunter before, let alone in public. I wouldn’t expect her to be happy about Hunter hooking up with me, but I can’t believe she has the audacity to react like…

The truth socks me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me a moment before it comes out in the open.

“It’s not enough to fucking cheat on me,” she says, shoving him again. “It had to be with her!”

Bile rises in my throat.

I shake my head, denial overpowering me.

No. No, he wouldn’t. He didn’t.

I told him she was the line he couldn’t cross. I told him.

But when he looks at me and I see the remorse, I know.