hoped it’d cause destruction.
I poked one in every third locker, notably skipping the Level Ones’. I wanted to keep them out of the loop. I wanted them helpless.
When my work was done, I crossed my arms over my chest, excited for the moment the empty hallway would become grounds for chaos.
For the first time since returning for the semester, Jack didn’t speak to me in our final period. His head was down, his pen scratching at his notebook. I wondered what they’d done to him, and the guilt enveloped me. I hoped in the end he’d understand.
William found me straight after class. I was quickly trying to get to the lockers, eager to see the reaction to my work. His hand caught mine, steadying me. My heartbeats were already featherlight from the excitement, but his fingers looping between my own only accelerated them.
“Wow, slow down,” he said, a smile dimpling his cheek, as if my excitement was infectious. “What’s up?”
“You’ll see,” I said knowingly. I tightened my grip on his hand and led him into the hall.
As I’d expected, it was alight with conversation. People were already holding the pictures, some laughing, some pointing. I caught sight of Maddy, who was looking over Claire’s shoulder. I saw her yank the picture from her hand, staring at it closely.
“Chloe . . .” William said beside me, letting go of my hand. “Is that—”
“Yeah,” I said, adrenaline flooding me. “I did it.”
It was hard to gauge the reactions of the remaining Level Ones. Because I’d chosen to place the revelation at the end of the school day, everyone was off home or to extracurriculars. I rode in William’s car, silence between us for the entire ride.
“Are you angry?” I asked.
He hesitated before shaking his head. “No. Not at you, I mean. I just feel weird. It’s like it may as well have been me, you know?”
I frowned.
“I’m the reason you had those pictures. And not just because I was blackmailed. I chose to let you into the locker room. And I’ve known Zach for almost my whole life. My parents knew his parents. I was there when he came out, through the times where he was scared he’d lose everything. And I guess I’ve betrayed him.”
“You’ve been with him through that, but you’ve also seen who he is,” I reminded him. “You saw what he did to Max at that party. He’s not a good person.”
“I guess you’re right,” he said. “I mean, I know you’re right. But what makes me any better than the rest of them, you know?”
I pursed my lips. I couldn’t answer that.
Social media had been alive all evening with the gossip bouncing between Level Twos, the drama even attracting the interest of Level Threes and Fours. From the moment I got home I was glued to my phone, watching it unfold from the comfort of my bedsheets.
When I clambered into William’s car Tuesday morning, there was a displeased look fixed on his face.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, grimacing. Was he still acting weird about exposing Zach?
“That obvious?” he asked. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, his lips in a thin line.
“Well, you look pretty pissed,” I said carefully.
William sighed. “I got a call from the coach this morning saying not to come to practice tonight. Apparently some strings are being pulled that he can’t control.”
“Oh God,” I said. It was a whole other problem. “Francis.”
“Yep.” William turned a corner, almost propelling me into the window. “And with all this Zach mess, I doubt the team will be fit to play in this weekend’s game.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. He was the team captain, after all. “I can’t believe he’s choosing all this drama over what’s best for the team.”
“I can. Because he can be a real manipulative bastard when you’re on his bad side,” he said.
I thought on it for a moment, searching for some way to make everything all right. “I can try and fix it.”
He snorted. “How? What are you going to do?”
“I could talk to him. Maybe I could persuade him,” I said, only half believing my words.
“Chloe,” William said, “don’t go anywhere near him. Please.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I mumbled.
“No, but it would piss me off more if he managed to hurt you, okay? Just . . . let it go.”
I exhaled and shrugged, still not convinced that letting things go was the best option. William’s concern had created a flock of ugly butterflies jumping in my stomach. Instead I focused my