“He was?” Some of the tension bleeds from my body as I consider the fact that I won’t have to see him again.
“Yeah, they did an afterhours search of his room based on a tip. No idea where it came from, but they found a bunch of Xanax and alcohol in there, so they expelled him.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, and then he had a meltdown,” Sybil continues. “Loyola has a private social media app made by one of the students. Ethan went on there and posted pics of you in your bra and underwear last night, along with some snaps of him kissing you.”
“Oh my God.” My stomach drops, and I jump up. “Are they still on there?”
“No.” She shakes her head quickly. “They went live this morning at like nine o clock, and within ten minutes, his account was removed from the app. Then another hour later, the entire app was gone. It was crazy. Someone in the staff must have seen. That’s the only thing I can think of.”
I hang my head in my hands and resist the urge to cry. I have a feeling I know exactly who saw them and exactly how they were removed. The same man who took care of me last night. The same man who got Ethan expelled. And the same man who now hates my guts.
“This is insane,” I whisper.
“I’m so sorry.” Sybil pulls me in for a hug. “But the good news is the photos are down.”
“And the bad news is everyone saw them, and now they’re calling me a slut.”
“That’s just Louisa and her gang of bitches,” Sybil argues. “But I think you’d be surprised. Everyone knows how slimy Ethan can be, and there were a lot of people calling him out on the app before those photos got deleted. People defended you.”
“This is just so embarrassing,” I whisper.
“I know.” She frowns. “But I think the only thing you can do at this point is own it. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You are Stella fucking LeClaire. Rockstar photographer. Badass bitch. You are gorgeous and smart and funny, and people will want to take you down. But don’t let them, Cherrybomb. You’re better than that.”
I collapse back onto her bed and consider her words, knowing she’s right. I can’t let them win. And I won’t.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STELLA
SYBILand I skip lunch on Tuesday to work on our cheer moves, like she promised. Practice is all week, and then we have tryouts. It’s not really what I want to do, but it’s keeping my mind off everything else, so that’s something. We spend the entirety of the hour breaking down the dance moves and repeating them while stuffing our faces full of gummy bears to survive.
“You’re going to do great,” Sybil insists. “It will be fun. You’ll see.”
Secretly, I’m hoping I don’t even get onto the cheer squad. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. I just don’t want to disappoint Sybil. I don’t want to disappoint anybody, but it seems like that’s all I’ve been doing lately. And more than a few times this last week, I’ve wondered why I even bother. My parents still haven’t returned my calls. It’s not like they would even care or expect any different of me if I didn’t succeed here. But still, my dad’s words continue to haunt me.
I’m putting everything on the line, Stella.
As crappy as my first week at Loyola was, there are some silver linings. I have Sybil. And my grades are good so far. Other than having detention with Mr. Carter for the foreseeable future and getting into trouble over the weekend, there’s still time to turn everything around. Getting onto the cheer squad is a good way to start. That’s something my mom can be proud of. Or at least, I hope it is.
“Your birthday is next Friday,” Sybil reminds me. “We should do something crazy to celebrate.”
I eye her wearily, and she laughs.
“I didn’t mean too crazy. Just something fun and secret. Like a tattoo or a piercing. After all, you’ll be legal.”
I consider her idea, and it actually doesn’t sound too bad. I’ve always wanted a cartilage piercing in my ear.
“We can do that,” I agree. “But I’ll have to check with my parents. I don’t know if they have anything planned for the weekend or if they even remember it’s my birthday.”
“Okay.” Her phone alarm sounds, signaling that it’s time to go. “We better scram before Mr. C has a coronary.”
I head over to the patch of grass where we left our bags, but right away, I notice something looks off. The zipper on my backpack is open, and I know I didn’t leave it that way. I glance inside and don’t see anything out of the ordinary, and there isn’t time to inspect it now. Hell hath no fury like Mr. Carter when you’re late to his class.
Slinging the bag over my shoulder, Sybil and I head off for Research. We even manage to arrive three minutes early, which is almost a miraculous feat for me. But just as soon as we sit down at our desks and I start to dig around inside my binder, I realize there’s a problem.
I check three times just to be sure, even going so far as to look in my books just in case I stuffed my homework in there. But I can’t seem to find it. And before I even have a chance to panic, Louisa arrives to gloat.