Chapter 4 The plan

Maya

I didn't go back inside.

The rest of the school day passed without me. I sat on those bleachers until my legs went numb and the sun shifted across the sky. My phone buzzed constantly at first—notifications, messages, tags I didn't want to see. Eventually it died. The silence was better.

They're not done yet.

Justin's words kept circling my head like birds I couldn't scare away.

What else did Sarah have planned? More photos? A video? I didn't know. But he was right. Someone who drugged me, staged a photo, and spread it across the entire school wasn't going to stop just because I'd fallen apart.

I thought about my dad.

He'd be home from the Dean mansion by now. He'd ask about my day. What was I supposed to say? Hey, Dad, your boss's daughter drugged me and ruined my life. Also, I got kicked off the cheer team. Also, everyone thinks I'm a prostitute.

I couldn't tell him.

Never. It would totally crush him.

The rink door opened around four o'clock and players started filtering out—laughing and shoving each other. A few of them glanced at me. One whispered something and another snorted.

I looked away.

Then I saw him.

Justin came out last, carrying a gym bag over one shoulder. He spotted me immediately. He didn't hesitate but walked straight toward the bleachers like he'd known I'd still be there.

"You stayed," he said.

"Nowhere else to go."

He nodded like that made sense. Then he sat down—this time on the same row as me, but still leaving a gap. Close enough to talk without crowding.

"Did you think about what I said?" he asked.

I pulled my knees up again. "About someone planning this?"

"And about them not being done."

I was quiet for a moment. Then I said, "Yeah. I thought about it."

"And?"

I looked out at the empty rink. The ice was already starting to freeze over again after practice.

"I don't know what to do," I admitted. The words felt heavy. "I don't even know who else was involved. Sarah drugged me, but she had to have help. The boy in the photo, someone to take the picture and someone to post it."

Justin listened and didn't interrupt.

"I could go to the principal," I said. "But it's my word against hers. And she's Sarah Dean, her dad donates half the school's budget." I laughed bitterly. "They'd probably expel me for lying."

"You're not wrong," he said.

I turned to look at him. "That's not very comforting."

"I'm not here to comfort you." His voice was calm. "I'm here to tell you the truth. Going to the administration right now? They'll protect her. That's how systems like this work."

"So what am I supposed to do?" My voice cracked. "Just take it? Transfer schools? Let her win?”

He didn't say anything.

A quiet moment passed. Then he leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees.

"Can I ask you something?"

I hesitated. "Okay."

"What do you remember about that night?"

My stomach dropped.

"I… I was at Sarah’s. We had a sleepover and I had one drink." I swallowed. "Then I got really tired. Too tired and I passed out."

"And after that?"

"Nothing."

He nodded slowly, like that confirmed something.

"That wasn’t random, Maya."

My fingers tightened around my bag.

"I know," I whispered.

Silence stretched between us.

"So what do I do?" I asked finally. "Because right now it feels like no matter what I say, no one’s going to believe me."

"You stop playing defense," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"You’re reacting to what they think. Trying to prove something to people who already made up their minds." He turned slightly toward me. "That won’t work."

"Then what will?"

He studied me for a second.

Then—

"I have an idea."

My chest tightened. "Okay…"

"It’s not perfect," he said. "And you might hate it."

"Just say it."

He exhaled once.

"You pretend to be my girlfriend."

I stared at him.

"What?”

"Not a real relationship," he said quickly. "A fake one. Just for show. People see you with me, someone who has no reason to lie for you—and suddenly that photo stops being the only thing they know about you."

I shook my head. "That's insane."

"Is it?" He leaned back slightly. "Think about it. Right now, everyone believes Sarah's version of you. A girl who cheats. A girl who sleeps around but if they see you with me—someone they respect, someone who's not a student, they start to question what they think they know."

"You're a coach," I said. "You can't just…"

"I'm twenty-three. I'm not your teacher. I'm not even employed by the school district directly—I'm on a one-year contract as an athletic coordinator." He shrugged. “I checked before I even thought about suggesting this." He leaned back slightly. "And I don’t care about gossip.”

I looked away. My heart was pounding.

"Why would you do this for me?" I whispered. "You don't even know me."

He was quiet for a long moment.

"I told you earlier. Someone did something similar to my sister." His voice was lower now. "She was fifteen. A boy spread a rumor that she'd sent him nudes. He photoshopped her face onto someone else's body and everyone believed him. She lost all her friends. She stopped eating and talking."

I felt my chest tighten.

"I was away at college," he continued. "I didn't know until it was too late. She tried to…" He stopped and swallowed. "She almost didn't make it."

The words hit hard.

"I’m sorry," I whispered.

He nodded once, like he didn’t want sympathy.

The air between us felt heavy.

"She's okay now," he said. "But she's not the same. And I've spent years wishing I'd been there. Wishing I'd done something."

I stared at him. "You want to do this because of your sister."

"I want to do this because no one should go through what she went through alone." He met my eyes. "And because I saw you yesterday. I saw the way you looked at that photo. You didn't know and no one else bothered to ask."

My throat burned.

"This isn't charity," he said. "And it's not pity. It's a transaction. You get your reputation back and I get to stop feeling useless." He almost smiled. "And we both get to watch Sarah Dean's face when she realizes her plan didn't work."

I let out a shaky breath.

"What's the catch?" I asked.

He tilted his head. "You have to stop hiding. You walk into that school tomorrow like you own it. And you have to trust me."

"Trust you?" I laughed bitterly. "I don't even know you."

"Then get to know me." He said it simply. Like it was that easy.

I looked down at my phone in my hands. My reflection stared back at me from the screen—tired, scared, but still here. She almost didn't make it. Justin's sister. Because no one stood up for her.

I thought about Sarah's smile, about Luke walking away. About the photos on the lamppost. I'm not going to let her win.

"Okay," I said quietly.

Justin stilled. "Okay?"

I looked up at him. His eyes were steady and waiting.

"Okay," I said again, stronger this time. "Let's do it."

He nodded slowly. "One rule."

"What?"

"No falling in love." His mouth twitched. "I hear that complicates things."

I snorted. It was almost a laugh. "Trust me," I said. "That's the last thing on my mind. It's not going to be a problem."

Famous last words. A small voice whispered in the back of my mind.

I ignored it. I wasn't going to fall in love. I wanted revenge.

Justin studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly. "Good," he said. "Because that's the only way this works."

He stood up and offered me his hand, I hesitated for a second before I took it. His grip was firm and warm.

"Maya Sandoval," he said quietly, "let's go cause some trouble."

And for the first time in twenty-four hours, I almost smiled.