I give him the smallest nod because my throat feels like sandpaper, and I don’t trust myself not to crack if I speak.
The girls don’t stop. They’re louder now.
“She’s probably just using Chris to make Evans jealous. Classic manipulative bitch move. Next she’ll get Zach drunk and convince him she’s pregnant. Bet it won’t even be his kid.”
Chris’s head whips toward them. “They’re talking about you.” It’s a simple statement, but I can hear the grit in his words.
Before I can stop him, he’s on his feet, striding straight to their table. He leans down and says something to them. It’s too low for me to hear, but whatever he said hits them hard. One girl flushes beet red, and another studies her nails in embarrassment.
He comes back to the table like nothing happened and gathers up his things. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. This place is toxic.”
I nod, gathering my things while my heart thuds in my chest. When I stand, I feel a little unstable until Chris takes my hand and guides me out. I want to pull away and walk out on my own because I know what this looks like—confirmation—but I can’t. I need the support.
Once the door shuts behind us, I pull my hand away and take a deep breath.
“Thank you,” I murmur, clutching my books. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did.” His voice is quiet, but absolute. “No one deserves to be spoken to like that.”
Our eyes connect, and I can’t face looking at him for too long. He’s right. I know it. Zach knows it. Everyone knows it, but what the hell am I supposed to do about it?
“How often does that happen, Honey?” His tone forces me to look up.
“Not often.”
He blows out a breath. “That’s a lie. The first day I met you someone was saying stuff to you.” He raises his hand, gesturing to my bag. “There are messages on your phone, and you just sat there while those girls talked shit about you like you were some kind of abused dog. You just took it like it was inevitable.”
“Because it is,” I admit quietly.
He forces out a sarcastic laugh. “You seriously believe that? So because you’re with a football player, you’ve just accepted that this is your life now? That it’s okay for people to talk to you like that.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Show them who you are.”
I swallow down what I want to say because I know how pathetic it sounds.How am I supposed to show them who I am when I don’t really know?
“I wish they were dudes because I’d fucking knock their lights out,” he says to fill the silence.
“Whatever you said to them landed like a blow,” I say, following him through the quad. “What did you say?”
He shrugs. “Nothing groundbreaking, just that their behavior was disappointing and reflected poorly on them, not you.” A small smile quirks at his lips. “And that I’m super tight with NickCaine, the hockey captain, who could make sure they're banned from all team parties for the rest of the season.”
I laugh despite myself. “You used the hockey team as leverage?”
“Influence,” he corrects. “Creative influence.”
His expression softens.
My phone buzzes and I try to ignore it, but Chris watches me. When I don’t move to take it out of my pocket, he says, “Are you going to get that?”
“Uh, yeah.” I scramble into my bag, and read the message scrawled across my screen.
Unknown:You’re really going to put your head in the sand when these are circulating online?
Attached Photo
The image shows Zach and Jenni in the hallway at Hail Mary’s. Her arms are around him, and she’s whispering something into his ear. It’s not Photoshop, I can tell.