After months of therapy, Garrett Delko is still struggling to cope with his brother's suicide. The only time he finds peace is on the pitching mound and with a mysterious girl he's been obsessed with since the first week of college. One night, he se...
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Last night had been a curse disguised as a blessing because as Garrett read the email, he knew any ground he'd gained at the bridge had been lost. Now he lived under a cloud of suspicion as she tried to reconcile the fractured pieces of her life. It was fair given the way he'd handled matters, but the boy in him who had selfishly hoarded his toys wasn't as lenient. He wanted her complete trust, and he wanted it now.
The dark bruises in her eyes made him wonder how long she could hold herself together before toppling over the edge. He knew from experience it would only get worse. Juicy gossip was a lure human nature couldn't resist. It allowed people to escape from their own problems. Made them feel superior. Knowing Arianne the way he did, she was going to push him away, which meant he needed to find the culprit. Soon. Nothing could stop the rumors from spreading, but at least he could clear his name. If he didn't, he could kiss the sweet promise of her goodbye—a wrenching pain in his gut at the idea.
After Arianne left, he texted Greg asking if he wanted to get lunch. For once, his roommate's shadiness would come in handy. Even if he didn't know how to hack, Greg knew all types of people. No doubt he could scrounge up someone willing to help. And if they didn't, well, he had a bank account at his disposal. He'd keep that part from Arianne. She had too much pride to accept monetary help.
As he waited, he waded through the derogatory comments already popping up on social media. They'd even started a hashtag —#STDgirl. At least, her name wasn't included. A small mercy in the big scheme of things. Although—he cringed as he scrolled through the messages—her picture popped up an awful lot. They must have pulled it from one of her social media handles.
His phone pinged with another text from a teammate. He hadn't told Arianne, but when he'd checked his phone, he'd been flooded with texts. Most asked if the email was true while others worried he'd slept with her and advised to get checked at the university clinic right away. They meant well, but their words dug into an already open wound.
He could only avoid the questions for so long. What would he tell them at practice? Ugh. Practice. He was already dreading it. The sheer thought of everyone staring and gossiping made him double over in pain. It was high school all over again. His breathing turned shallow as he remembered the journal pages stuffed in his locker and the crude drawings painted in every bathroom stall. What if the same happened at Eason?
The pressure around his chest tightened until he couldn't breathe. He blindly reached for the bed, pulling his comforter off as he collapsed to his knees in a useless heap of memories. No, he thought as he hugged the comforter to his chest. He couldn't afford to panic. Arianne needed him.
Just like Spencer needed you. You're going to wind up disappointing her too.
He wouldn't. He wouldn't. Resolve flowed through him. This time was going to be different. He wouldn't abandon her. He wouldn't pretend she didn't exist. Arianne was going to have a support system whether she liked it or not.
