“So was Zoe kissing Digby,” Charlotte said.
“But I didn’t take those photos,” Bill said. “And I don’t know who posted them.”
We all groaned. It took me a second to process the fact that if Bill’s accusations were right, Allie, Austin, and Charlotte were on my side.
“And this”—Bill held up her phone again—“is from the AC-DC account, which I was told means Allie and Charlotte Don’t Care.”
“I heard they called it that because the poster is LGBTQ,” Charlotte said. “You know . . . AC-DC, goes both ways . . .”
“Oh, my God. Bill, just admit you posted the Zoe pics and then you two”—Sloane pointed at Allie and Charlotte—“admit you’re AC-DC and we’ll be done already.”
“Actually, Sloane, that’s an example of what not to do in terms of cross-talk,” Steve said. “Let’s allow them to play out their feelings instead of trying to fix them.”
Digby, who had been scrolling through his phone the entire time we’d been squabbling, said, “Nobody admit to any of those things. AC-DC—whoever that is . . . and whoever forwarded the picture to AC-DC in the first place”—Digby glared at Austin—“might have child porn distribution problems.”
“No. We definitely don’t want that,” Steve said, and reached into his backpack for an index card case. “Maybe we could try a little role play—”
All of us shouted, “No.”
“Look, Steve, I think we’re fine,” I said. “Can’t we just figure this out among ourselves?”
“Well, actually, maybe we should talk a little more about how you’re doing, Zoe,” Steve said. “Because that’s something that’s getting lost in all this.”
“Me?” I said. “I’m fine.”
“Zoe, part of my job is to observe and intervene when I spot internalizing behavior in my students and honestly, every time I see you in the hall with your hood up and earphones on, my heart breaks for you,” Steve said. “You look so isolated and angry.”
Sloane said, “I told you you have all the warning signs.”
Steve sat up even straighter. “Did you just say ‘warning signs’? Warning signs . . . of school violence?”
“No, no . . .” I said. “That’s Sloane’s way of saying my clothes are ugly.”
Digby did one of those dramatic sighs followed by a conversation-halting tabletop hand slap. “She’s not a security threat, Steve,” Digby said. “Stand down.”
Steve leaned over, took my hand, and said, “Zoe. I know you’re switching schools in a few months, but I don’t want you leaving us with a bad taste in your mouth—”
“You’re leaving?” Austin said.
“Where? Back to NYC?” Allie said. “Fun.”
“Wow,” Charlotte said.
I looked over to Digby but realized I’d make it worse if I apologized for not telling him earlier in front of everyone.
“You didn’t know.” Austin pointed at Digby.
Digby didn’t answer but it was obvious he was struggling to not have a reaction.
“He didn’t know.” Austin laughed and leaned over the table toward Digby. “You’re right, bro. I do miss this.”
“Um, I’m sorry, Steve, how did you find out?” I said. “I haven’t accepted or anything.”
“The Prentiss admissions office asked me to forward your records,” Steve said. “I just assumed it was a done deal.”
“Of course she’s going,” Sloane said. “She’d be crazy not to go.”
“I haven’t decided if I’m going,” I said.
“What happened?” Sloane said. “I thought you’d already decided.”
Austin laughed. “Oh my God, even Sloane knew before you.”
Digby’s face darkened even more.
Thank God Bill couldn’t take the focus being pulled away from her for too long. “Congratulations, Zoe,” Bill said. “But can we please just resolve this?”
“Yes, you’re right. Let’s refocus our session.” Steve referred back to his booklet. “What can we do to make things right? How can we make sure this doesn’t happen again? Any ideas, thoughts, suggestions?”
Digby snapped his fingers at Austin. “Give me your phone.” He pointed at Allie and Charlotte. “Yours too.” When all three of them instead tightened their hold on their phones, Digby said, “You want to get out of here? Unlock your phones and hand them over.”
Charlotte, always the pragmatist, handed hers over first. “What are you doing?” she said.
Digby said, “Deleting.” And then he did the same to Austin’s and Allie’s phones.
Steve said, “But this isn’t really how we’re supposed to—”
“It’s okay, Steve. This is section seven,” Digby said. “Teaching joint responsibility ultimately means leaving it up to them.”
“That isn’t on this handout, is it?” I checked my booklet. “Mine only goes up to section six.”
“But it sounds familiar,” Steve said. He flipped his booklet over, scouring the text.
“It’s written in your notes, Steve.” Digby finished deleting, tossed the phones back, and leaned over and tapped a scrawl-filled page on Steve’s notebook. “Between buy tuna cheese Friskies and check tire pressure.” Digby stood up. “Everything’s been deleted. Can we agree—no new posts? If, somehow, there are more pictures out there, can we just assume they’ll get deleted?” Digby looked at Bill to make it clear she was the object of that admonition.
“What about the ones on your phone?” Bill said to Digby. The between-you-and-me intimacy in her tone was annoying enough but then she went on to say, “But I guess you’re in them with me, so why would you post them?”
Sloane said to me, “Ignore her.” To Bill, Sloane said, “Ugh, you are so thirsty.”
“Zoe gets it,” Bill said. “She knows she doesn’t have a right to get upset that Digby slept with other girls before they officially got together.”
Steve butted in. “Okay, I think that’s—”
“Cross-talk,” Charlotte and Allie said to Steve.
“Let Zoe respond,” Charlotte said.
I hoped Digby would say something that would help me make sense of what Bill had just said but he was silent. I felt gut punched.
“I don’t have anything to say.” I got my bag and said to Steve, “Are we done here?” But I left before seeing what his answer was.
TEN
I was kind of disappointed when Digby didn’t follow me out of the meeting. I was running fast, but not that fast. I went to the bathroom and got myself together before deciding to head to the library. I made some returns, picked up some more books I had on hold, and went around the corner, where I found Digby waiting for me at my favorite desk.
“Ask me how I knew you’d be here,” Digby said. “You wrote the due dates for your books on your wall calendar. And I know how much you hate to miss a due date.”
When I didn’t answer, he said, “You’re upset.”
Someone from the next stack over shushed us.
I ignored Digby and sat down. I started looking through my planner.
“You’re upset about what, specifically?” he said.
I didn’t feel like I had to explain myself to him but I glared at him to say, You know.
“I’m getting the silent treatment?” He tried again. “I can’t believe you let Bill get under your skin.”
“And I can’t believe you slept with her,” I said. Since I was talking already, I also said, “And I mean, I never even understood what you were doing with her in the first place. Was that just to bother me?”
We got another shush from behind the next stack of books.
“Not everything I do is about you,” he said.
“So you’re telling me you wanted to date her . . .” I said. “For her personality.”
“Well? Maybe I liked hanging out with her,�
�� Digby said. “A little more of a chill hang, maybe.”
“That’s about me, right? She’s ‘a chill hang’? Meaning I’m . . . what?” I said.
A sophomore girl I didn’t know but had seen around school stomped out from behind the shelves next to us and said to me, “Hey. Maybe Bill has a cool side she saves for her boyfriends. Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought . . .” Sophomore Girl was unhinged. “Maybe he needed to date her to realize he never wanted to date her. I don’t know. None of us could figure out why they got together, either.” Sophomore Girl clenched her fists and I really wondered if she was going to attack us. “But maybe you two could discuss it somewhere where there isn’t someone who either passes her chemistry test or has to lifeguard at the YMCA all summer instead of going to Chicago to hang with her party girl aunt.”
I whispered sorry and Digby and I packed up and left the library.
* * *
• • •
Once we were in the hallway, Digby said, “So. Where were we?”
“I believe you were telling me about you and Bill and how you had so much fun hanging out with her,” I said. “And how you didn’t just date her to be annoying.”
“Date her to annoy you? And, actually, why does it annoy you so much?” Digby said. “As I remember it, you were with Austin at the time.”
“Don’t give me that,” I said. “From the minute you came back to town, you made it your whole mission to break up Austin and me—”
“‘My whole mission’?” Digby made mock gagging noises. “Not ‘my whole mission,’ surely. Um . . . I think I’ve been doing other stuff too.”
“You know what I mean,” I said.
“I think maybe someone’s being a little conceited,” Digby said.
I knew he knew what I’d meant, but I was embarrassed anyway. I turned and walked away from him.
“Aw . . . Zoe, where are you going?” Digby said.
I kept walking and picked up the pace.
“I thought we were done with the silent treatment already,” Digby said. “Oh, come on.”
This time, Digby followed me when I started running again. I sped up and bolted blindly around the corner, where I smacked straight into Austin. He tried to catch me as I fell backward but I just ended up taking him down with me. Austin and I were still tangled up on the floor when Digby rounded the corner and found us.
“You okay?” Digby put out both his hands and helped Austin and me up.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Digby looked at Austin and then at me and said, “Let’s talk later.”
But when Digby turned to leave, Austin said, “Wait. Actually, Digby, I was coming to find you.”
Digby was confused for a beat before he said, “Fine.” Digby took off his jacket, handed it to me, and started rolling up his sleeves. “I’m good to go right here but if you want it to the death, we should go outside—”
“No, bro, no,” Austin said. “I’m here because we need your help.”
Farther down the hall, Pete, one of Austin’s obnoxious teammates, spotted us and did a sneaker-squeak stop and ducked back around another corner and yelled, “Guys! Austin found Digby.”
“The team needs to talk to you,” Austin said. “They’re waiting for you in the AV room.”
I was glad to have gotten out of there and turned to leave.
“No, you too, Zoe,” Austin said.
“Me too?” I said. “What for?”
Digby turned to Austin. “What is this about?”
Austin looked uncomfortable. “Henry said he’d explain it to you when you got there.”
“You better come.” Digby put on his jacket and we started walking.
Austin nudged me and said, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Was he chasing you?” Austin said.
“Only because she wanted me to catch her,” Digby said.
“I never understood these mind games.” Austin shook his head. To me, he said, “At least now you found someone who’ll play them with you.”
“Is this about Coach?” I said.
Austin nodded. “But we shouldn’t talk about it here—”
“Austin . . .” I had to know. “Did you tell Coach Fogle I brought the gym bag to school?”
“Are you kidding me?” Austin said. “Not this again.”
“Just answer me this time and I won’t ask again. Did you tell Coach about the bag knowing he’d make you quarterback if you got Henry out of the way?” I said. “Because you almost got all of us killed by doing that.”
“No. I. Did. Not. Tell Coach about the bag,” Austin said. “And that would’ve been a stupid thing to do, by the way, because we all knew Coach was dealing. I wouldn’t get people killed just to be QB. But thanks for believing in me, Zoe. Gee, I wonder why we didn’t work out.”
“So, are you QB next season?” Digby said.
“Whatever game plan Coach might’ve had for making me QB went to jail with him,” Austin said. “Henry’s QB still because that’s who the assistant coaches know how to play.”
We walked the rest of the way to the AV room in silence. A few more football players joined us on the way and by the time we reached the AV room on the third floor, we were rolling eight deep.
Just as Austin had said, the rest of the team was waiting for us when we arrived. Some players were sitting at desks and the ones who couldn’t get a seat stood leaning against the back wall. Henry was standing in front. It was weird to see them all look to us with such hope and expectation when Digby and I walked in.
“What’s going on here?” Digby said.
“We have a major fricking problem, guys,” Henry said. “The High School Athletics Association sent a Drug-Free Sport inspector over. They’re running no-notice tests on us.” Henry showed Digby a form asking him to report to the main boys’ bathroom.
“Wait. New York State public high schools don’t allow random tests . . .” And then Digby realized. “But it’s not random because Coach got arrested. Reasonable suspicion.” Digby cursed.
We all froze when the door opened and a tackle named Lyle walked in. His face looked completely drained of blood and his hand trembled when he held out his form for Henry to read. “They had me pee in a cup and then gave me this.”
Henry read the form and passed it to Digby. “Holy crap.”
“Student-Athlete Notification Form. They’ll be testing his urine for anabolic agents, diuretics, peptide hormones, anti-estrogens, and Beta-2 agonists.” Digby turned to Lyle and said, “I take it from your face you’re going to fail this test?”
“I didn’t want to take those pills but Coach said they were just supplements,” Lyle said. “I mean, after a while, I started to think maybe something weird was going on . . .”
“You mean when you developed a square head and started being able to bench-press a compact car?” Digby looked around the room. “How many people are going to fail this test? Let’s see you put your five high.”
Henry put his hands up to stop people from answering. “No, no, it’s okay, guys.” To Digby, Henry said, “Doesn’t matter. If one of us gets busted, the whole program gets shut down. Even for the clean players.”
“I need to play, man,” one player said. And then the rest of the room started chiming in with their own anxious pleas for help.
“Okay, guys, he gets it,” Henry said. “What do you think, Digby?”
“I just need to say now that I don’t approve of steroids,” Digby said. “Cheaters never win, boys.”
“Most of the guys who took them didn’t even know what they were taking, dude,” Henry said. “They just trusted Coach.”
“Which is why I am going to handle this,” Digby said. “It’s a one-time deal.”
Someone in the back said, “Did he say he’s
going to handle this?”
I heard at least two high fives and one celebratory “Yes.”
“But,” Digby said. “I’m going to need something in return.”
“I will give you literally every cent I make this summer,” one player said.
Another one said, “How much do you want?”
“He doesn’t want money,” Henry said. “You don’t want money, right? Wait. Do you want money?”
I recognized the look on Digby’s face. “Nope. It’s going to be a lot weirder than that,” I said.
“I want a human sacrifice,” Digby said.
“For example,” I said.
Someone in the back said, “You can have my brother. No one’s going to miss that idiot.”
“I bet my mom would even pay you to get my dad out of the picture,” another player said.
“Digby. Explain yourself before they make me lose what tiny amount of faith in humanity I have left,” I said.
“I need someone here to die on social media,” Digby said. “And it has to be a big death.”
“How big?” one player asked.
Digby pointed at me. “Bigger than hashtag Homewrecker hashtag UglyHo,” he said. “And it has to happen right now or I’m not even going out that door.”
“I got video of my girlfriend getting out of her skinny jeans,” one player said. “I mean, her body be bangin’ but no one looks good getting out of those . . .”
“Nope. I don’t want any more shaming of other people,” Digby said. “What I want is some of that ‘take one for the team’ sacrifice stuff you guys are always talking about.”
Silence. And then Jim—one of the beefy linesmen—pointed to his phone. “I have video of me hooking up with my cousin over spring break.”
As worried as they were about the drug tests, the players still had it in them to mock Jim.
“You took video of that?” Henry said.
“Dude, she’s so hot.” Jim played it for us to see. “And she’s so wild, I bet she’d be into going viral.”
I couldn’t help it. I said, “Are you serious? You are such a pig.”
After watching the video for a few seconds, Digby deflated. “No. We can’t. I can see the top of her boob. No child porn.”
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