“Like he would ever want to touch those hideous frog lips of hers,” one of the other girls chimes in, leading to another round of laughter at my sister’s expense.
“Look,” the leader says, “she’s in the middle of the field. Activating the sprinkler system in five, four, three, two—”
“This is all very entertaining,” I say, stepping out from behind the file cabinet.
The girls jump. Two of them actually let out a shriek.
The tall brunette takes charge, standing up from her throne to face me. “Who are you?” she asks rudely.
“An interested party.”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and go away. We’re busy.”
“Yes.” I nod. “I can see that. You’re clearly very, very busy, and I’m sure your principal would be extremely interested to know just how busy you are.”
Pink Miniskirt groans, like I’m wasting her time. “Do whatever you want.” She resumes her place behind the computer.
It takes all of my strength not to reach out and smack her across the head, but I force myself to stay calm and keep my cool.
“Oh, I will,” I say, taking a step toward her. I queue up the video. “And what I really want to do is push Send on the email I’ve drafted with this video attached.” I push Play and the girls’ voices are echoed back at them through my phone’s tiny speakers.
“She’s walking onto the field now. I told her that Avery would meet her out there in a few minutes. She thinks he wants to make out with her. Can you believe she actually thought someone like Avery Frahm would want to kiss her? She’s so freaking gullible…”
I turn the phone around and hover my finger over the screen.
The leader stands up again. “What do you want?”
“I want you to apologize to Hadley Sparks. Right now.”
She shakes her head like this is all so juvenile. “That’s it?”
I shrug. “Yup. That’s it.”
She huffs. “Fine. Let’s go.” With a cock of her bony hip, she leaves the office, the other girls following closely behind her.
“And if you ever mess with her again,” I call after them, “this video will also find its way to the police.”
I send a quick text to my sister and then hurry over to the computer monitor. Through the feed, I can see Hadley checking her phone. She looks confused by my text, but thankfully starts walking toward the parking lot.
A moment later, the girls exit through the doors of the gym. They strut out to the soccer field, like they own the whole darn thing. They reach the center of the field and search for Hadley, confused by her unexpected absence.
That’s when I activate the sprinklers. It was nice of them to set up the controls for me.
There’s no audio, but I can assume from their horrified faces and open mouths that screams are accompanying their mad dash for cover. But it’s so hard to run in those spiky-heeled shoes. Especially on grass. Especially on grass that’s now wet. The leader of the pack takes a nasty tumble as the other girls scurry past her.
I switch off the computer monitor, pocket my phone, and disappear out the door I came in from.
Hadley is waiting by the flagpole where I told her to meet me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I was just running a little errand.” I grin, and put my arm around my sister’s shoulders. “Wanna go knock off a candy store with me?”
Wouldn’t It Be Nice
8:16 p.m.
“Okay, we have one more song for you tonight,” Tristan breathes into the microphone as he brushes away a damp clump of hair from his forehead. “This one is dedicated to the girl who got us this gig, and the new junior class president of our high school: the beautiful Ellie Sparks.”
A tingle of excitement travels through my body as Whack-a-Mole launches into the final song of their set—“Mind of the Girl.” It’s the song Tristan and I first kissed to. The song that turned Tristan’s music from noise to art. The song that turned me into a fan.
Watching him on that stage, hearing him say my name to a carnival full of people, listening to him sing the lyrics that I truly believe were written for me, it’s an amazing feeling. It wraps around me and squeezes me like a hug. It lulls me into a sense of security.
Yet, as I listen to Tristan sing, I can’t help but think about all the other