When Liam pushes his way through the door not two minutes later, I know there’s going to be issues. Almost immediately his eyes fall on me before a huge grin spreads across his face. “Hey, nice ass shot, Harper. Very artistically done. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
My voice is nothing more than a whipcord tight growl. “Shut the fuck up, Garrison.” Like I want to hear any shit from him.
Liam chuckles before shrugging his shoulders like my words are nothing more than water off a duck’s back. “What’s the big deal? I thought it was hilarious.”
I don’t even bother responding. Liam and I are teammates, but he doesn’t know dick about my life. Most these guys don’t. Which is exactly the way I’ve chosen to keep it. Here, in this locker room and out on the field, I just want to be Sam Harper. Not Senator Harper’s son. Ignoring him, I continue taping up my wrist.
When I say nothing in response, Dylan finally snaps, “It’s not funny at all.”
Roan shoots Dylan a look before finally asking in a low voice, “Does your father know?”
I shake my head. I’m certainly not looking forward to that conversation when his people finally fill him in either. Because they will.
The smirk slowly morphs into a questioning look as Liam asks, “Why would his parents find out and honestly, so what if they do? It’s not a freaking sex tape. You just need to chill and go with it, dude.”
Dylan shakes his head before muttering, “Don’t you know who his father is, dumb shit?”
Liam raises a brow before glancing my way with a little more interest. “Should I?”
“Does the name Senator Derek Harper ring any bells for you?”
Liam’s eyes widen before slicing to Roan for confirmation, as if Dylan might just be fucking with him. Apparently their solemn attitudes are enough to convince Liam that it’s the truth.
“Seriously?” Slowly he scratches his chin, his eyes holding mine before I give a tight nod.
“Isn’t he running for re-election soon?”
“Yep,” I bite out.
The media will have a freaking field day with this and I’m never going to hear the end of it. I will never live this down. And the thought of Gavin or Ari seeing that photograph has a sick knot settling in the pit of my gut.
“Sorry, dude, I had no idea.”
I shrug.
Harper isn’t all that uncommon of a name, so I’m usually able to avoid being linked to my dad. I could have gone to school out of state, but when Violet chose Barnett, I wanted to stick close as well.
A dull ache starts to throb behind my eyes. Unconsciously I bring my hand up to massage my left temple. I still can’t believe she did this to me.
Mind officially blown.
Grabbing all his stuff from the locker, Liam starts stripping down before suiting up. “So how’d this even happen? Who leaked the photo? Some pissed off ex-girlfriend?” His eyes settle on mine as he waits for an answer.
Christ. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.
Feeling aggravated, I plow my fingers roughly through my hair again. I wish to hell it had just been some pissed off chick with an ax to grind. That I could deal with. But I know damn well it wasn’t. Because I’ve spent a little bit of time inspecting the picture, hoping to find something that would prove that it’s nothing more than a photo shopped piece of garbage. But it’s not. In the upper corner of the photo is the brown leather messenger bag Violet always carries around with her. I’d recognize it anywhere.
It’s only then that I notice both Roan and Dylan have stopped what they’re doing and are staring at me, waiting for an answer as well. They want to know who fucked me over. Even as I open my mouth, the words stick in my throat. So I do the only thing I can and shrug my shoulders, refusing to say anything at all.
Roan finally asks, “Do you know who did this?”
I jerk my head into a tight, barely perceptible nod but don’t say anything more about it. I just want to shut down this entire line of questioning.
Dylan finally says, “What does Violet have to say about all this? I’m sure she’s pissed as hell.”
There must be something in my expression that gives me away because Liam sucks in a harsh breath before releasing it slowly. “No fucking way, dude.” He continues shaking his head in disbelief. “Violet wouldn’t do something like that to you.”
My narrowed eyes cut to his. Yeah, I wouldn’t have thought so either. But more than that, it pisses me off to hear him defending her like he knows anything about Violet at all. He doesn’t know a fucking thing about her.
As soon as I’m suited up, I walk towards the large metal doors that lead out onto the field. I can’t sit here for another moment as this shit continues to circle viciously in my head.
I need a grueling practice to kick my ass.
I need to turn it all off.
For just two damn hours.
Then, when I’ve finally cooled down and can think clearly again, I need to figure out exactly what the hell I’m going to tell my parents because it’s not a matter of if they find out.
It’s a matter of when.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My heart is literally sitting in my throat right now. He won’t return any of my calls or text messages. Nothing. It’s not like Sam to just ignore me. Not in all the years I’ve known him, has there ever been this kind of stereo silence between us.
Not ever.
And I find that the more time that slowly slips by, the more anxious I become regarding what this means.
I just about died when I woke up and saw that picture. The picture I had snapped when he was sleeping now splashed across Instagram and Facebook, not to mention a few other websites that are solely devoted to the Barnett football players. And in case I hadn’t already seen it first thing this morning, tons of people had rather thoughtfully forwarded the picture to me.
I could only sit there, filled with silent shock and horror.
I mean… I took that picture.
It was private.
Meant solely for me.
Sam hadn’t even been aware that I’d snapped it. Which, yeah, makes this situation like a bazillion times worse.
So much worse.
No matter how long I sit here racking my brain, I still can’t figure out how it ended up online. How the hell did someone get their hands on it? I mean, did I somehow, inadvertently, forward it?
I… I don’t think so.
But I don’t know.
It’s not like my phone was ever lost or stolen. It’s been in my possession the entire time. I always have it with me. I never leave it lying around. Blinking my eyes, I stare down at it in the palm of my hand. I can’t remember a time within the last few days when I didn’t know exactly where it was at all times.
So this makes absolutely no sense.
And it’s not like I showed anyone either.
Not even Mia.
Shit. Shit. Shit…
I still can’t believe this is happening.
Mia knocks softly on my door before hesitantly poking her head in. “You awake?” Already I can tell that she’s seen the photograph. It’s there in the somber tone of her voice. It’s like she’s reconfirming, without actually saying a word, that this is a huge freaking deal.
Probably all of Barnett has seen that damn picture by now.
Including Sam.
Thick waves of nausea continue to swirl their way through my belly. Any moment they’re going to shoot up like a geyser.
“Yeah,” I finally rasp. It still feels like I’m in shock. Like this is nothing more than some god awful nightmare I’m going to jerk out of with a pounding heart and a shitload of relief.
And do you know what the first damn thing I’m going to do once I wake up?
I’m going to grab my phone and delete that picture.
Wipe it right off the face of this earth.
I never should have snapped it in the first place.
Obviously I realize that now.<
br />
Only it’s too damn late because this isn’t a dream that I’m going to magically wake up from. Nope. The unfortunate reality is that I took a naked picture of Sam without his consent or knowledge, kept it on my phone, which has now, somehow, been leaked to the entire Barnett student body.
And Sam won’t answer any of my calls or texts. There’s suddenly a wall of silence between us that I can’t seem to penetrate.
Which pretty much means that he knows the photograph is out there and that I’m the one who snapped it.
Not saying a word, Mia carefully pushes the door wider before slinking in and taking a seat gingerly on the edge of my bed. “You’ve seen it?” Even though her words are asked in query format, it’s not really a question at all. I’m sure she can tell by the look of utter devastation written across my pale face that I’m still reeling from impact.
I simply nod as moisture gathers in my eyes. I’ve been trying to hold back the tears ever since I first realized that Sam is ignoring me.
Knowingly declining my calls.
Sending them to voicemail because he doesn’t want to speak with me.
But looking into Mia’s wide green eyes, seeing the deep well of sympathy there has the dam finally bursting and the unbidden salty wetness searching desperately for an escape route.
This is a big fucking deal. Sam’s dad is going to blow a gasket when he finds out about this. And it’s my fault. I did this. All because I had wanted to capture a moment. Something that felt infinitely precious.
“Have you spoken to him yet?”
Just barely do I shake my head.
And that only makes everything a thousand times worse. Sam has that unique ability to settle everything within me. It’s always been like that between us. Maybe it’s because he was the first real friend I made when I came to live with my grandparents after the accident. Or that, for the last eight years, we’ve been inseparable. Or that he’s the one person I can count on to help me weather whatever storm life throws my way.
I don’t really know the reason.
I just know that it is.
“I’ve tried texting and calling but he’s not answering.” My eyes latch onto hers as if they’re some kind of lifesaving device. I can’t help but whisper brokenly, “He always responds. No matter what.”
“Maybe he’s in class?” Even though she’s trying to be positive, I know better. That has absolutely nothing to do with it. Sam would still answer me. Through text, at the very least.
Again I shake my head. “He knows, Mia. He has to know by now.”
How could he not?
I found out about it before I even rolled out of bed this morning.
Her teeth sink into her lower lip before she reluctantly nods her head. “I’m sorry, Vi.”
I can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes from my mouth. If there’s anyone who has something to be sorry about, it’s me. Not her. I’m the one who created this mess. “Thanks, but this doesn’t have anything to do with you. I shouldn’t have taken the picture. I don’t even know why I did it. He was sleeping and…”
My words trail off for a moment before I admit the worst part, “He doesn’t even know I took it. I never told Sam that I had a naked picture of him on my phone.” Acknowledging those words out loud has sharp bolts of heat filling my cheeks. It only slams home the gravity of the situation.
Of what I’ve done.
Oh my God… who the hell does something like that?
Gulping, she squeezes her eyes shut before burying her face in her hands. “I…”
But that’s all she says.
Sitting up, my arm slips around Mia before rubbing her back in soft slow circles. I have no idea why she’s this upset. But I appreciate her concern. I appreciate her being there for me as a friend. And Mia has always been that.
“This is my fault,” she finally admits. Her voice sounds strangely thick. As if it’s clogged with tears. What I can’t understand is why she would even say something like that.
Her fault?
That’s absolutely ludicrous.
Of course this isn’t her fault.
I shake my head. Mia is completely blameless in all this.
Unfortunately it’s clear who the asshole is in this situation.
And that would be me.
“This isn’t your fault. I’m the one who took the picture. And I shouldn’t have.” Shaking my head, I mumble, “I just wish I knew how someone got ahold of it.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Mia finally looks up, her eyes skewering mine. That’s when I notice the guilt, the regretful little glint that fills them. I feel the breath catch at the back of my throat as I wait for some kind of rational explanation as to what I’m seeing written across her face.
She starts out slowly, shifting uncomfortably beside me. “Last night… when we ordered pizzas… and all the girls were here…”
When she doesn’t immediately pick up the thread of her words, I ask in a low voice filled with tension, “What about it?”
Why is she even bringing this up?
What does that have to do with what’s going on now?
All I remember from last night is feeling irritated by the way those girls were talking about Sam. Dissecting him as if he were nothing more than a piece of meat. And then telling me to slide my leftovers their way when I was done with him.
And now every single one them is drooling over that damn photograph.
Feeling distracted by the memory, I simply nod.
But in my mind, I’m still combing through everything I did since snapping that picture. How the hell could something like this happen? Was my phone hacked? Can a phone even get hacked? I have absolutely no idea. I’m not the tech genius around here. That’s Mia’s department. Maybe she’ll be able to figure out what happened.
Looking utterly miserable, she bites down on her lip as if she doesn’t want to say the words. Which is definitely odd. Normally Mia is so forthright. She doesn’t beat around the bush when something needs to be said.
Which can be both a blessing and a curse.
My eyes sharpen on her. On the guilt written within her mossy green gaze. She’s all but drowning in it. An odd prickle of unease slithers its way through me as my heartbeat picks up speed.
I was thinking that maybe she just felt bad for me, bad about the situation I’m entangled in but now… now I’m starting to realize there’s more to it.
Which is exactly when it hits me.
Like a locomotive barreling through my brain.
Last night when we ordered pizzas.
Sitting around with the girls.
Needing to get away for a few minutes when they started discussing the men’s lacrosse team.
Rather stupidly, I’d left my phone on the table.
And when I came back, Caroline had it cradled in the palm of her hand.
I remember all the smirking looks that had been hurtled in my direction before she finally handed it over. The way they all scattered like rats within minutes of my return. And yeah, the weird prickle of unease that had skittered its way down my spine but… I hadn’t thought too much about it. I’d simply shook it off and returned Sam’s call, needing to hear his deep voice filling my ear.
With wide eyes, my hand flies to my mouth as I whisper harshly, “You knew she looked through my phone?”
I… I can’t believe this! My mind is somersaulting. The nausea sitting in the pit of my gut continues to grow, thrashing around within it.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Almost immediately she shakes her head in denial before her shoulders finally slump forward. Her low voice is thick with regret. Sucking in a ragged breath, she continues, “I thought they were looking at something on Caroline’s phone. It wasn’t until you came back from the bathroom and she handed it to you that I realized it was your phone they’d been messing around with.”
I can’t help but explode, “Mia! She must have forwarded the picture before spreading it all over campus!�
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“I know,” she admits miserably, “I’m so sorry, Vi. I was talking with Sasha about a class and wasn’t paying attention to what they were doing.”
Oh my God, I’m so angry I could literally explode. “But when she handed my phone back, you knew they’d been looking at it, right?”
Her eyes drop to her fingers which lay twisting in her lap. Guilt swamps every single facial feature. “Yeah, but-”
Before she can even start to explain, I cut her off. I want to tear at my own hair right now. At this point, it would be less painful. “Why didn’t you say something right away? I could have gone and… and…” I start to sputter because I’m so damned worked up, “I could have at least talked to her about it!”
As we hold each other’s eyes, her entire body seems to fold in on itself. “I’m sorry,” she whispers again. But it’s not good enough. Her words aren’t going to fix the irreparable damage that has been done.
“You have to believe me, I had no idea what they were looking at.” Shaking her head, she continues, “After you came back, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. I thought maybe they were messing around or playing some stupid prank…” Her eyes plead with mine for understanding. “I figured they were just setting a different ring tone or something juvenile like that.”
I almost start laughing.
Oh my God!
If Mia had just given me the heads up, I could have done something about it. I could have gone to Caroline’s room and spoken to her about messing with my phone.
Feeling headachy and emotionally drained, I fall back against my pillows. What kind of damage control can I possibly do at this point? Sam won’t even talk to me. He has to know that I’m the one who took the picture. Which means that he assumes I simply put it out there for the world to see.
My heart seizes at that painful realization.
Just as Mia opens her mouth, I quickly interrupt. I really can’t deal with her right now. The throbbing in my temples is growing by the minute. “Can you just leave? Please?”
Friend Zoned (Barnett Bulldogs #2) Page 23