Chapter 7 Unbearable

Maya's POV

The silence was unbearable.

I could feel everyone's eyes on us. On me, on Justin and on his hand still resting on my arm, his thumb still wet with my tears.

No one dared move, no one breathed.

Brittany's face had gone pale. The other cheerleaders looked like they wanted to disappear into the lockers. Students who'd been laughing two seconds ago now stood frozen, their phones half-raised and their mouths half-open.

Justin didn't let go of me. He turned his head slowly, scanning the crowd like a general surveying a battlefield. His eyes weren't angry, they were worse. They were disappointed.

"I asked a question," he said. His voice was quiet. Quiet was always scarier than loud. "Who made her cry?"

No one answered.

He looked at Brittany and she took a step back.

"I'm waiting."

Brittany's mouth opened and closed. It opened again. "She….she was just…we were just…."

"You were just what?" Justin took a step toward her. Not aggressive. He was taller than her by a foot and he was broader. And he had the kind of presence that made people shrink. "Collecting a uniform? You couldn't do that without pushing her to the ground? Or without covering her locker in lies?"

"They're not lies," Maria muttered from behind Brittany. "Everyone knows…."

He looked at her sharply and she quickly scurried behind Brittany.

"Everyone knows nothing."

Justin's voice cut through the hallway like a blade. He turned to face the crowd, not just the cheer team now but everyone. All the students who'd been watching, whispering and filming.

"You want to know what I know?"

He pulled me gently to his side. His arm wrapped around my shoulders in a protective and possessive way.

"I know Maya Sandoval. I know she's the kindest, most loyal, most beautiful person in this school. I know she would never hurt anyone and I know that every single rumor you've been spreading about her is a lie."

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Every single one."

Justin's jaw tightened. He looked at the photographs still scattered across the floor. At the students holding crumpled copies in their hands and at the phones still recording.

"That picture you're all passing around like it's entertainment?" He pointed at the floor. "She was unconscious and drugged. Someone staged that photo to destroy her and instead of asking questions, instead of thinking for yourselves, you all just... believed it."

His voice cracked slightly. Just enough to show he wasn't performing, he meant this.

"I've seen this before. Someone I love had this happen to her, and I didn't stand up. I didn't protect her. I let the rumors win." He swallowed. "I'm not making that mistake again."

The hallway was so quiet I could hear the fluorescent lights buzzing.

Justin turned to look at me. His eyes softened. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Maya Sandoval is my girlfriend," he said. Loud enough for everyone to hear. Loud enough for the whole school to know.

My heart stuttered. Girlfriend? The word hit harder than everything else he’d said.

"She is the best, sweetest, most beautiful, most innocent girl I have ever met. She was framed. And if anyone, anyone , tries to intimidate her again, tries to hurt her again or tries to look at her wrong..."

He turned back to the crowd.

"You'll have me to answer to."

No one spoke.

Brittany's face was white as paper, Maria looked like she was about to cry and the other cheerleaders had clustered together like frightened sheep.

Justin bent down and picked up one of the photographs. He studied it for a moment, then looked at the crowd.

"Whoever took this," he said, "whoever drugged her, whoever spread these pictures... you should know something."

He crumpled the photo in his fist.

"I'm going to find you. And when I do, this whole school is going to watch you fall."

He dropped the crumpled paper. It bounced once and rolled to a stop at Brittany's feet.

"Now get out of our way."

The cheer team scattered, students parted like the Red Sea and Justin kept his arm around me and walked me down the hallway, past the lockers, past the whispers, past the phones still recording.

Neither of us said anything until we reached the doors at the end of the hall.

Then he stopped and turned to face me.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

I opened my mouth to say yes. To lie and pretend I was fine.

But before I could speak, a voice rang out behind us.

"Well. That was dramatic."

My blood turned to ice. I knew that voice.

Sarah.

She was standing at the other end of the hallway, flanked by Luke and two other guys I didn't recognize. She wasn't smiling and she wasn't angry either. She looked... calm, too calm.

Slowly, she started walking toward us. Her heels clicked on the linoleum. Click. Click. Click, like a countdown.

"That was quite a speech, Coach," she said, stopping a few feet away. "Really, I almost believed you."

"Sarah." Justin's voice was flat. "Walk away."

She tilted her head. "Or what? You'll have me to answer to?" She laughed. It was a cold, sharp sound. "You're a temporary coach, Justin. A one-year contract. My father donates more to this school in a month than you'll make in your entire career."

She looked at me, her eyes were empty.

"You really think anyone's going to choose you over me?"

"Sarah…" I started.

"No," she cut me off. "You don't get to speak. You've taken enough from me. My friends, my school, Luke." Her voice dropped. "Baby girl, I'm not done with you yet. I haven't even started yet, Maya."

She pulled out her phone slowly.

“You’ve seen the photos,” she said softly.

“But this?”

She tapped the screen and turned the phone slowly.

A video was playing.

It was me, unconscious while the boy was on top of me. But this time, the camera was moving. Showing more than the photograph ever could.

"Photos are one thing," Sarah whispered. "But video?"

She smiled.

"Let's see how strong your little coach is when this goes viral."

She pressed something on her phone and somewhere in the crowd, someone's phone pinged.

Then another.

Then another.

Then a hundred.