She dug her phone out of her back pocket and called my cell. We walked the tiled floors in silence, listening for any rings or vibrations from the lockers.

Even though she had the phone to her ear, I could still hear my voicemail pick up. Every time it did, she hung up and redialed as we continued to walk.

“Let’s split up,” she finally suggested after the fifth call. “I’ll keep dialing. Just listen for a sound. I think it’s in a locker.”

“Why?” I asked, stopping to look at her. “Someone could have it on them, too.”

“With me calling every ten seconds? No.” She shook her head. “They would’ve turned off the phone, in which case it would’ve gone straight to voicemail. It’s on, and it’s in a locker.”

Split up?

I rubbed my jaw, not liking this idea one f**king bit.

But we didn’t have long.

“Fine,” I bit out. “But if you find it, call my mom’s phone immediately. I don’t want you in the halls alone, not today.”

She stood there, studying me, like she wasn’t sure if any of this was worth her time. She was probably thinking that I did send the video, and I was just playing with her now.

Spinning around, she left and darted up the stairs to the next floor.

I continued searching the first floor, my fists clenching and unclenching inside of the front pocket of my hoodie as I listened for any sound of my phone.

I didn’t wear a watch, usually using my phone to tell the time, but I knew we were close.

The bell was going to ring, and we needed to just give this up and get the hell out of here.

This morning I’d felt her kisses, her hands, and her happiness. But now I only felt her doubt. It sat between us like a ten ton elephant.

The phone in my hand buzzed, and I jerked it up so fast I almost dropped it.

2nd floor, next to Kuhl’s room!! Tate texted.

Shit.

I f**king bolted up the nearest flight of stairs to the next floor and nearly tripped on the steps when the final bell screamed.

Dread slammed my stomach down to my feet, and I only hesitated a moment before I charged ahead through the doors and onto the second floor.

Students flooded the hall, all trying to get to their lockers or downstairs to leave.

Most of them did a second-take at seeing me, but I just turned left and pushed through the crowd as fast as I could.

People coming my way slowed down, while others stopped to whisper to their friends. There’s was no telling what was going through their heads, and my fists balled up in aggravation. Not only was I angry about what had happened, but I was completely f**king pissed that I now had to clean up a mess I didn’t make.

I finally found Tate next to a set of lockers towards the end of the hall, and she definitely had onlookers.

Her body was rigid, but she stood tall and didn’t hide from their stares. She looked at me, and I f**king melted when I saw her guard with me was back down.

“Are you alright?” I asked, taking her face in my hands.

“Yes.” Her tone told me everything. She believed me. “The phone is here, in 1622,” she said softly, and I tensed. “I don’t know whose locker it is, though.”

I do.

I looked behind her, my eyes hardening on the locker.

Piper.

My jaw was glued together, and oxygen poured in like fuel.

I didn’t hit women, but I’d damn well let Tate hit her.

“Back so soon?” a female voice snipped behind me. “Is your  p**n  career a failure already?”

Tate’s body shifted under my hands, and I placed a light kiss on her forehead before I turned around to face the bitch.

I tried to keep Tate behind me, but she yanked me back and quickly stepped in front.

Oh, Jesus. I rubbed my forehead and tried not to smile.

Nothing was funny here, but Tate continued to surprise me.

“Actually, we’re just waiting for you,” she said with mock happiness. “You know that video that came from Jared’s phone this morning? The one that everyone saw? He didn’t send it. His phone was stolen Saturday night. Would you know where it is?” Tate asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

The hall had gotten quiet, and everyone stood like they were on the outside of a boxing ring peering in.

“Why would I know where his phone is?” Piper sneered.

Tate held up her cell. “Oh, because….” She hit “redial”, and everyone heard my ringtone for Tate— Limp Bizkit’s Behind Blue Eyes—coming from Piper’s locker.

It was the ringer I’d put after she’d left for France—like she’d ever call—and I never changed it.

Tate flashed her screen to everyone, so they could see that it was my name on the screen of who she was dialing.

“This is your locker, Piper,” I pointed out, so everyone would know.

Tate was humiliated. The damage was done.

But it wasn’t a choice. Everyone had to know that I wasn’t responsible for hurting her like that. Not ever again.

“You know, I just love that song,” Tate teased. “Let’s hear it again.” She redialed, and people stood around, some waiting for a fight, while others whispered or nodded.

Walking up, I bent down into her face. “Open up your locker and give me my goddamn phone back, or we’ll get the Dean, and he’ll open the locker.”

Her lips pursed. “It was Nate’s idea!” She cracked and started defending herself.