just to keep her image intact. All she wanted was to be one of them, and it had extended past most people’s goal for popularity. She wanted the power.
Monica’s parents were rich, yes, but it was mostly by inheritance and investments. They weren’t influential. It didn’t give Monica instant status in the school like the others. She had to work for it—and she was hungry to do so. Her mom tried to control her so much it made her desperate to break rules. It was written into her persona since before I even met her.
“I write to her,” I blurted. “I mean, I know she won’t reply, but I keep having this stupid hope that maybe it isn’t real. Maybe she will.”
William pulled me toward him again, so that I was nestled into his chest. I closed my eyes and let myself become lost in his warmth, his scent, the pace of his breathing. We stayed like that for a long time. I wanted to be mad at him. He was in that video too. But somehow, I couldn’t. He’d done so much for me. For Monica.
“I told my dad about what happened, you know,” he said, his breath catching in my hair. “I wanted to tell the police everything. I mean, we were just kids. I didn’t think we’d get in trouble for telling her to do it. But he wouldn’t let me. He said if I did, I’d destroy the family. That because I was involved, it’d bring him down too.”
“Would you have done it?” I asked. “Taken that fall?”
“In a heartbeat,” he said quietly.
Now it was our chance to make things right.
We sat through hours of footage, sprawled on his couch with the laptop in my lap. Most of it was boring. The boys playing beer pong at parties, the girls clinking champagne flutes and air-kissing one another. Drunken dancing. Happy group shots.
But there were snippets interlaced within that gave me hope that we’d actually have something. It was finally time for the next stage. The exposé.
Between clips—even with everything I was trying to process—I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to kiss William again. I’d look at him out of the corner of my eye, hoping he’d catch me and bring his lips to mine again. But he didn’t. I was starting to think that he didn’t want to.
Maybe it was all in my head.
I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep until William nudged me gently.
“Hey, Chlo. Wake up.”
“What time is it?” I looked around us. Through the windows I saw the sky had darkened.
“Almost eleven.”
I bit back the lump in my throat. It was still dry from the tears I’d shed. I was so comfortable leaning against his chest. I didn’t want to leave.
“What’s up?” he asked, his fingers moving to brush through my hair. I don’t even think he meant to do it. He stopped midway, his hand dropping to his side.
“I just . . .” My voice trailed off, and I felt a blush creep to my cheeks. “I don’t want to leave.”
William hesitated as he observed me with thought. He must have caught what my tone was letting on. “You know, I didn’t think you’d feel that way after the footage.”
I frowned.
“I was scared that when you saw how much I was involved with them last year, that you’d hate me.”
I was supposed to hate him, yes. But the footage was one thing, and the real-life William was another.
“I should,” I said. “But I can’t.”
I leaned forward slowly. Never in my life would I have defined myself as brave, but it took all my courage to open my heart to him in that moment. My lips met his softly before pulling away.
“You really feel that way?” William said, swallowing. “After everything?”
I was too scared to speak, and so I just kissed him again. He kissed back, and for the first time in months I felt whole, like all the disembodied elements inside of me were working in sync again.
“You should go home,” William said, his voice husky when we finally broke apart. “I want you to stay, but I don’t want to take advantage of you. Not again. I know you’re upset, Chlo. And we can’t miss school tomorrow.”
“Why do you have to be a good guy all of a sudden, William?” I asked with mock disappointment. It would be so much easier if he was the obnoxious Level One I’d imagined.
“Will,” he said, a chuckle lacing his tone. “Will you