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A rumor started spreading that Chloe was a homewrecker who had stolen Jax from me. Coming back from the restroom with Maya, I saw Chloe run past me down the stairs, her face buried in her hands, sobbing.
A second later, Jax came storming up the steps. He saw me, and his face contorted with rage. He lunged forward and slammed me against the wall, his hand closing around my throat.
“I thought you wanted to stay away from me, Aubrey,” he snarled, his face inches from mine. “What the hell is this?”
1 clawed at his hand, my lungs burning. Maya rushed forward, trying to push him off. “Are you insane? We were just in the bathro-
om! Let her go, you’re choking her!”
Jax flinched back as if he’d been burned, snatching his hand away. I slid down the wall, gasping, sucking in ragged breaths of air.
“You’re pathetic, Aubrey,” he spat down at me.
“Aubrey, are you okay?”
I stayed crouched on the floor, coughing, tears streaming down my face. Maya wrapped an arm around me, rubbing my back. “It’s okay, Aubrey. I don’t know what’s wrong with him and his crazy girlfriend.”
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I wiped my eyes, biting my lip to keep from sobbing aloud. The look on his face… it was pure hatred. For a second, I thought he was
actually going to kill me.
The boy I knew was gone. Completely and utterly gone.
Later, a classmate cautiously slid a phone under my desk. Someone had posted an anonymous message on the Crestwood Confe- ssions page, accusing Chloe of being the “other woman” who broke up Jax and me.
Everyone believed it. The comment section was a cesspool of slut–shaming, each insult more vicious than the last.
When I got home that evening, I planned to immediately send a message to the page administrator to clear Chloe’s name. The red marks on my neck were already bruising.
But I never got the chance. I walked into my house to find my parents sitting on the living room sofa, their faces like thunder. They
were waiting for me.
My stomach dropped. I knew this wasn’t good. A glass flew past my head and shattered against the wall behind me.
“What did you do to piss off Jackson King?” my father roared, slamming his fist on the coffee table. “Do you have any idea how
much of our business depends on the Kings? Are you trying to ruin me?”
I just stood there as my mother’s shrill voice joined in, calling me a useless, money–draining curse. My father told me I was going to
go over there and apologize to Jax. Right now.
The house was cold, but I was shivering from a chill that came from deep inside.
I don’t remember how the screaming match ended, only that I was bundled out the door and marched to the Kings‘ front porch.
I had a speech prepared. I was going to tell him I didn’t write the post, but that I would get it taken down.
But the door swung open, and he was standing there, looking down at me from the top of the steps, his eyes like chips of ice.
The words died in my throat.
I lowered my head. I bowed. And I apologized.
He just stared at me blankly, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t want to see you at school anymore, Aubrey.”
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