by Molly E. Lee
“What?” I snapped, glancing up at him.
Tessa had planted the video? And he had proof? Enough to force Dean to…
Omigod.
That’s why he’d searched for me. Found me.
For Tessa.
“In case you were feeling like I was singling you out for justice,” he said, stepping out of my way.
“Oh no,” I said. “I know very well how many students you’ve manipulated over the years. Threats for favors. All to keep you on your imagined throne.” Anger swarmed my blood. “Someday, Tanner,” I whisper-hissed, “I’ll laugh as your character is brought to light.”
I walked out of the office and around the corner, fully exposed to the thousands of eyes staring. Halting at the steps that would carry me up the stage, I took a breath and scanned the crowd.
Hannah and Jake sat together, next to my parents. They were behind Ms. Howard and who I assumed was the board in the front row, because Hannah’s mom was seated in the middle of them. Hannah shaped her hand into the universal I love you symbol, and I flashed her a soft smile. She’d hugged me and cursed at me when I’d told her everything—her only anger stemming from the fact that I’d kept a secret from her—but she supported me nonetheless. Jake followed, naturally.
I was lucky.
I had been scared their reactions would be like Dean’s, but it seemed only he had hated what I’d done. Well, him and who knew how many outraged parents.
He’s tried to apologize.
True. But I hadn’t let him. Because I wasn’t sure if he knew about Tessa. And even if she let me off the hook this morning, it was still there. My hand in her situation. Something I’m sure he wouldn’t forgive, and shouldn’t have to, and then the hurt would happen all over again.
So, I had a new wall around my heart, and every brick had Dean’s name chiseled on it.
Another deep breath.
I took one stair, then two.
And as I reached the podium in the center of the stage, the two massive projector screens behind me, I felt as if I’d come full circle. It was in this room where my anger had festered, which led to the idea for the blog in the first place. It was here where Hannah had been desperate for answers she couldn’t find or dare ask.
This room was where it started.
And now it’s where it would end.
I cut my eyes to the left, trailing Tanner as he walked across the room to take his seat. Front and center. His eyes were full of satisfaction.
He should be up here. Being exposed for all the actions he’d taken against students. His secrets should be laid bare. Not mine.
I sighed, gripping the edges of the podium.
He held all the power.
And I was done.
Sickness churned in my stomach, threatening to rise instead of the words I knew I needed to say. To admit.
“I’m sure you’re all ready to figure out why you’re here,” I said into the microphone, my voice echoing loudly in the quiet room. I cringed against the sound, but pushed on. “You’ve been called here today because I—”
Tanner snapped at Mr. Griffin who sat at the computer desk off the stage, effectively cutting me off. Griffin cringed, glancing at me apologetically before he clicked a button, and I saw my website’s homepage fill the screens behind me. Sighing, I turned halfway—enough to look at the audience and my work at the same time.
“Like I was saying,” I said, flashing Tanner an eff-you look. “You’re here because there are things you need to know. Apologies I need to make.” My eyes trailed to where a student had his cell phone out and pointed directly at me. The live feed for all the other schools. At least the kid looked like he didn’t want to be there.
“First, I want to say I’m—” Something flashed on the screens, killing my words.
DC.
It blinked in the bottom right corners of the screen, on my site.
Flickered like a beacon of hope for a ship caught in a storm.
“I, uh…” I stammered, my eyes searching the audience, finding him like he’d been standing in the back all along. Like I knew he’d be there, laptop in hand, his blue-gray eyes full of regret and hope and love.
The TOC. He was supposed to be there, winning. Earning his credibility so a major-company would hire him in the fall. But he was here. I assumed he’d gotten the mass email Tanner sent out yesterday for the assembly, but I didn’t think for one second he’d miss the TOC to come here.
DC.
The letters blinked at me as I released the podium, the fear falling away faster than it had gathered.
DC.
Our code pulsed in rhythm with my heart, each beat pulverizing the bricks I’d laid. Healing, wanting, hoping.
But most of all beating with the knowledge that I was no longer alone.
And this moment was no longer about me.
“Talk.” Tanner mouthed the word, rolling his hand discreetly in front of him.
No one had registered the game-changer I had—the two simple letters that held me frozen in gratitude and hope.
“Sorry,” I said into the mic. “Here’s what you need to know—”
A small murmur echoed through the crowd, stopping me once again. The screens blinked in and out, my website disappearing, and a vid-box replacing it.
The audio filled the room, filtering from the same speakers attached to my mic. But it was no longer my voice hitting the crowd—it was Tanner’s.
“You have no idea what it is like to be responsible for the young minds of the future. I do what I have to—whatever I have to—to ensure their success. What seems harsh to you is what will make this world a better place in the years to come.”
I glanced down to Tanner, wide-eyed. He was frozen in his seat.
“Whatever.” That was Dean’s voice now echoing through the speakers. “This has nothing to do with me. I’m not an errand boy or your personal tech guy.”
“Oh, Mr. Winters,” Tanner said. “You wouldn’t want Tessa to have a black mark on her record before she’s even reached her senior year, would you? I imagine something like jail time or a court date would harm her chances of following you and your brother to MIT someday.
“Are you listening, now, Mr. Winters?”
“Yes,” Dean said.
“Sir,” Tanner said.
“What?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I expect a report on your progress on Monday. Bright and early.”
“Fine.”
“And, Mr. Winters?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t take too long to find this person,” he said. “For Tessa’s sake.”
The chatter from the crowd grew, whispers and gasps. I locked eyes with Dean, my heart breaking for him.
Beeps and buzzes and “holy shits” rang from the crowd, nearly everyone gaping at their cell phones.
Dean motioned toward the screens.
The motionless vid-box had started to play.
I stared at it, my brow furrowed, as student after student—their faces blurred—recounted stories of their own instances of threats or borderline blackmail by Tanner.
There were so damn many.
Dean—how long had he been gathering this?
I looked to him, and it clicked.
This was his true portion of the challenge. He’d said it was a desktop swap, but no. This was so much more dangerous. More so than my blog. A hack he might not have pulled if not for Tanner’s actions against me.
The audience fell stark silent as the video continued to roll. Tanner bolted from his seat, stomping to Griffin at the computer, who held his hands up in innocence. He couldn’t kill the feed. No one but Dean could unless…
Tanner yanked every plug out of the floor sockets, and the screens and audio went d
ead. He stomped up to the podium, and I barely had a chance to move before he was hovering over me, the purple vein in his forehead throbbing. He held his hand over the mic like the room wasn’t silent enough for them to catch every word.
“Fix this. Fix this now,” he whisper-snapped. “You tell them you faked that audio. That video.”
“I didn’t,” I said with all honesty. “You did this. You.”
He raked his hands through his hair, a growl at me as he turned to face the audience. “This girl is responsible for Ask Me Anything.” He pointed at me. “She’s the one behind it all.”
His words fell on deaf ears. Everyone was glued to their cell phones—no doubt watching the rest of the video.
“The truth is out there,” I said, watching as the board hovered over one person’s phone. Watching. Learning.
“Your truth will be out there,” he said. “You won’t graduate. You won’t get into another school. And after I call the admissions director at MIT and show them who you are, what you’ve done, they’ll never let you in.”
I gaped up at him, ready to spit fire.
“DC,” Dean’s voice filled the space behind me, and I spared him a glance, using his words to calm the acid eating my nerves.
Focusing back on Tanner, I narrowed my gaze.
“Prove it,” I said before spinning on my heels, leaving him there to clean up the mess he’d taken years to create.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dean
I followed Amber off stage, taking care not to bump into the board members who walked toward Tanner. She stopped once she was out of the room and in the quiet of the hallway.
“Dean,” she said, spinning to face me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t,” I said. “Just listen. Please.” I was fully prepared to beg.
She popped her lips closed.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I blurted, tucking my laptop into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “I didn’t mean a word I said. I swear. It wasn’t about you. It was about Tessa.”
She flinched. “You knew?”
“She’d just told me. That day. And I lost it. Temporary insanity. And I know that’s not good enough. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I swear to you I didn’t sell you out to Tanner.” I glared at the wall, hoping like hell Tanner felt the effects of the evidence I’d gathered. “He walked in at the wrong fucking time.” I sighed, refocusing on her. “I don’t care what he threatened,” I continued. “I would’ve never given you up.”
She was quiet, too quiet.
“Please, Pixie,” I said. “You have to believe me.”
Her eyes glittered, but she didn’t let a tear fall. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
The air flew out of me, my shoulders dropping. I lowered my gaze to the floor, unable to take her rejection. “I know,” I said. I’d been expecting her to push me away, rightly so, after everything. “You don’t want me here. Don’t want anything to do with me. I get it. I do. But I needed you to know that I was sorry. That I wish like hell I could take back everything I said that day.”
“No,” she said, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at her. “I mean, you aren’t supposed to be here. Today. The TOC.”
Realization clicked, and hope swarmed my chest. “I meant it when I said I loved you,” I said, reaching for her hand. She let me take it and the contact was so damn sweet. “You mean more to me than any tournament.”
“But you’ve been working for that all year—”
“Doesn’t matter. Nothing does, if you’re not mine.”
She sighed. “I made a real mess of things.”
“We both did.” I dared to pull her closer, my free hand falling on the small of her back. “And I should’ve been there for you.”
“You were when it counted.” She glanced toward the room behind us, the vibrations of too many voices talking at once coming through the walls.
I drew our interlocked hands up to my mouth, brushing my lips over the back of her fingers. “Can you forgive me?”
“Can you forgive me?” she asked.
“That had nothing to do with you,” I said. “I shouldn’t have put blame where it wasn’t due.” Tessa had been the one to knock the sense into me. “So,” I said, inching closer to her face. “Can you forgive me?” I asked again, needing her answer more than anything else in the world in that moment.
“After what you did for me today?” She threw her arms around my neck, her lips crushing mine.
I captured her with my arms around her waist, lifting her to my level, holding her against my chest as I tasted her lips.
“I’ll kill him.” I heard Amber’s dad’s voice behind us, and I immediately dropped Amber on her feet.
“Oh, stop,” her mom said, as we turned to face them.
They’d just come out of the seminar room, a mass of people filing out behind her.
“You missed all the chaos!” Hannah said, bounding up to Amber. She glanced at me and before I could blink she’d punched me square in the chest.
“What the hell was that for?”
“You know why!”
“Right.” I nodded. “Yeah.”
Jake glared at me before looking to Amber, who waved him off. His features softened as he moved to Hannah’s left.
“The board took Tanner into the office,” Hannah continued. “And Ms. Howard. I bet he’s getting fired.”
Amber looked up to me, then back to Hannah. “I guess we’ll know more tomorrow?”
Amber’s mom patted her shoulder. “We’ll see you at home?” she asked, her eyes darting to me. “But don’t hang around here too long, okay? I don’t want you here when they’re done with him.”
“Right,” Amber said, and her parents headed down the hallway toward the exit.
“You want to ride with us?” Jake asked, never taking his eyes off me.
“No thanks,” she said. “I’ll be all right.”
“You sure?” Hannah asked.
“Absolutely.”
The certainty in her tone gave me all the hope I needed.
Hannah and Jake relented, falling into the flow of foot-traffic that passed us in waves.
Amber turned toward me, a shy, sweet smile shaping her irresistible lips. “Where were we?”
I took her face in my hands, staring down at her as I breathed her in. “Missing you. Making it up to you. Whatever you need me to do,” I said. “That’s what we were up to.”
She folded her hands over mine. “DC.”
“DC.” I pressed my forehead against hers, savoring the moment as the world faded away.
“DC sucks!” someone snapped right next us. “Marvel is way better!”
We glanced in the guy’s direction, finding Brandon smacking his friend’s chest, shaking his head and glancing at us while he mouthed sorry. They kept walking, Brandon’s friend glaring at him in confusion.
We laughed until my sides hurt, the motions breaking through the sticky tension that coated everything. After we caught our breath, I tucked Amber under my arm, and walked her out of the building.
When she was safely in my car, I grinned at her. “I missed you, Pixie.”
“Missed you, too, NightLocker.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Dean
“I’m sorry to say,” I said, glancing at Amber from the passenger seat of her car. “But you’ll likely never top the last time you surprised me.”
She smirked from behind the wheel. “Want to bet?”
“How much?”
“How about a deadmau5 shirt?” she teased.
“How about a kiss?”
She rolled her eyes. “Like you need a bet to get one of those out of me.”
Heat churned deep in my stomach, a craving I’d never satisfy. I could never
get enough of my Pixie.
It had been two months to the day since the mandatory assembly where I turned the tables on Tanner—exposing him instead of him laying Amber out for the wolves. Her identity was still safe, and Ask Me Anything had been resurrected in a new corner of the dark web, Amber taking more precautions and leaning on her dad’s profession more to answer the still-incoming questions.
Ms. Howard was now Principal Howard of Wilmont Academy and finished out the school year, helping to ensure our MIT acceptance letters came as expected.
Tanner had “resigned” for his own reasons, but everyone knew that was bull. Rumor had it he was petitioning the city council for a shot at mayor. I prayed my leaked viral video would be enough to save the city from that.
The days had passed by in a blissful haze where I spent every single moment trying to make it up to Amber, regardless of her saying I already had ten times over. She and Tessa had grown close, spending almost as much time together as we had. Hannah and Amber had folded Tessa into this protective trifecta of powerful girls, and it kind of terrified me—not that I’d ever tell them that.
My parents—after the initial shock—had rallied to support Tessa’s decision to keep the baby. I’d held Tessa’s hand as she’d come clean to them, and I’d never loved my parents more than in the moment they hugged Tessa. I didn’t know why I’d been afraid they’d react rashly…like I had.
“I love you,” I said, just because I could.
“Love you,” she answered. “But still not telling you.”
“Damn.” She’d picked me up this morning and refused to tell me where we were going. “Do I at least get to spend the night with you in a fun hotel again?” I asked, the tease full and present in my voice. It didn’t matter how many times I’d had her, I always wanted more. My pixie made each moment with her that much sweeter.
“As much as I would love being in a room with you without worrying about one of our parents hearing us,” she said, “and I would really, really love that… No.”
“Damn again.” I groaned.
“But,” she said. “I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to surprise me with that.” She cleared her throat. “When you get back.”
