7

THE NEXT MORNING I DRESS for school with special care. Chris said I should lean into it, which
would mean a look-at-me kind of outfit. Margot said I should be above it all, which means something
mature like a pencil skirt or maybe my green corduroy blazer. But my instinct is to blend, blend,
blend. Big sweater that’s more like a blanket. Leggings, Margot’s brown boots. If I could wear a
baseball cap to school, I would, but no hats allowed.
I make myself a bowl of Cheerios with sliced banana on top, but I can only force down a few
bites. I’m too nervous. Margot notices and slips a cashew bar in my bag for later. I’m lucky that she’s
still here to take such good care of me. She’ll be heading back to Scotland tomorrow.
Daddy feels my forehead. “Are you sick? You barely had any dinner last night either.”
I shake my head. “Probably just cramps. My period’s coming soon.” I have only to say the magic
word, “period,” and I know he won’t push it further.
“Ah,” he says with a sage nod. “After you get some food in your stomach, take two ibuprofen so
you have it in your system.”
“Got it,” I say. I feel bad for the lie, but it’s a tiny one, and it’s for his own good. He can never
know about that video, not ever.
Peter pulls up in front of our house right on time for once. He’s really sticking to our contract.
Margot walks me to the door and says, “Just hold your head up high, all right? You haven’t done
anything wrong.”
As soon as I get in the car, Peter leans over and kisses me on the mouth, which still feels
surprising somehow. I’m taken off guard, so I accidentally cough into his mouth a little. “Sorry,” I
say.
“No worries,” he says, smooth as ever. He places his arm on the back of my seat as he puts the car
in reverse; then he tosses me his phone. “Check Anonybitch.”
I open up his Instagram and go to Anonybitch’s page. I see the entry that was below ours, a picture
of a passed-out guy with penises permanent-markered all over his face. It’s the top of the feed now. I
gasp. The hot tub video is gone! “Peter, how did you do this?”
Peter grins a peacocky kind of grin. “I messaged Anonybitch last night and told them to take that
shit down or we’re suing. I told them how my uncle is a lawyer and you and I are both underage.” He
gives my knee a squeeze.
“Is your uncle really a lawyer?”
“No. He owns a pizza parlor in New Jersey.” We both laugh, and it feels like such a relief.
“Listen, don’t worry about anything today. If anybody says anything, I’ll kick their ass.”
“I just wish I knew who did it. I could’ve sworn we were alone that night.”
Peter shakes his head. “It’s not like we did anything so wrong! I mean, who cares if we made out
in a damn hot tub? Who cares if we had sex in it?” I frown and he quickly says, “I know, I know. You
don’t want people thinking we did something when we didn’t. We definitely didn’t, and that’s what I
told that bitch Anonybitch.”
“It’s different for guys and girls, Peter.”
“I know. Don’t be mad. I’m going to find out who did this.” He looks straight ahead, so serious