: Chapter 28

I wake up to noise in the hall. Giggling and laughing.

I lie there, face mashed into my pillow where the scent of Chase’s cologne permeates the fabric. He and Brody got up at a ridiculously early hour for some one-on-one ice time. Scoring that goal has motivated the hell out of Chase. So did the accolades from Tally’s dad. He talked about it for days. It was adorable.

I huff his cologne. Usually sniffing him makes me all warm and gooey inside, but today something feels…off. More laughter comes from the hall.

There’s a note on the nightstand next to my bed. My stomach twists unpleasantly as I flip it open, preparing for…I don’t know. The worst maybe? Which would be Chase suddenly breaking up with me by leaving a note on my nightstand.

Cammie, I miss you already. Back in a couple hours to grab breakfast with you.

Xo, Chase He always dots the “i” in my name with a heart. It’s so stinking cute. My smile fades as more laughter comes from the hall. What the hell is going on out there? I throw off my covers and pad across the room, pressing my eye to the peephole. Several of my floormates congregate outside my door holding pieces of paper. Several of them are snickering. One guy reads over another guy’s shoulder and guffaws loudly.

I don’t think through my actions as I throw open my door.

The hallway is full of people. All of them are holding papers in their hands. I glance at my door, trying to process what I’m seeing. Pieces of text-filled paper are taped to my door. The entire thing is covered. Horror, real and overwhelming, hits me hard as phrases pop out at me.

It’s my fic. My pen name is at the top of some of the pages, along with the name of the story.

“Oh my God! You’re a fucking freak!” one girl says, her lip curling in disgust.

A guy gives me a once-over. “Me and my friends will tag-team you, even if you are a freak.”

Someone else takes a picture, likely of my horror-struck face. I’m also wearing a TILTON HOCKEY T-shirt that belongs to Chase. And only a T-shirt.

I slam the door and turn the lock. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” I slap a palm over my mouth and back away from the door as tears spring to my eyes.

This is literally the worst possible thing that could happen. I don’t even know how this could have happened. I also don’t know how I’ll leave my room ever again.

I pace my room and glance at the window. But I’m on the third floor. I’ll break something if I try to jump. I message Tally because I literally don’t know what else to do.

I explain in a horribly autocorrected text what’s happening.

I super duper have to pee, but the noise outside my room only grows louder. This is beyond humiliating.

Less than twenty minutes later a shrill, ear-piercing whistle, followed by what sounds like Colby on a megaphone, nearly startles me out of my skin. As it is, I’m very, very close to peeing my pants. I have to go so bad, but leaving my room is not on the menu while all those people are out there.

A soft knock follows. “It’s Tally and…Colby is also here. Everyone else has been told to fuck off, but in nicer words.”

I open the door a crack. “Hey.” I peek into the hall as Colby shouts into the megaphone for people to get in their rooms or leave the hall with real authority. “I really, really have to pee.”

“Let me check the bathroom for you first,” Tally offers.

When I’m given the all clear, I empty my bladder. By the time I’m done, she’s already pulled all the papers off my door.

“Do you have any idea who did this?” Colby asks.

“I have an idea.” I sniffle and blow my nose.

He stares at me. I stare at him.

“Maybe give her a little time to recover from this before you launch an interrogation,” Tally suggests. “You could make sure the rest of the pages are down while I talk to Cammie.” Tally ushers me back into the room and closes the door in Colby’s face. “It was Barbiebelle, wasn’t it?”

“Probably, but I don’t know ho—” I stop. Close my eyes. Shake my head. “Chase was reading in the common room.” Last night I posted the chapter while we were waiting for the Terror game to start. I remember coming into the room and Barbie and Annabelle were standing behind him asking what he was doing. He’d mentioned my name and quickly shut the laptop. But obviously not before they’d seen it.

“Okay. So now people know your fic name. No big deal, right?”

“I write Poly MFM romance.”

Her lips pull to the side. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Two guys and a girl.”

She blinks at me. I blink at her. She glances at the pages still fisted in her hand. I try to grab them. She puts a hand out and I briefly consider flipping her over my shoulder to get them.

“Hear me out. Maybe I should read some of this so I can understand why you’re the same color as a sheet and also sweaty.”

I’ve already decided I have to dye my hair and change my entire appearance before I can leave this room again. I may need to invest in the pastels my sister is so insistent work well with my skin tone. “Sure. Go ahead.”

She takes a seat in my desk chair and starts reading the pages she’s holding. “Damn, this is hot.” Tally flips the page. “Wait. These are out of order. Maybe I should start at the beginning.”

I drag myself off my bed and flip open my laptop. I click on chapter one, then squint at the screen. “I have a bunch of new reviews.” Like a lot of new reviews.

“Let me read some of this before you look at them.”

I flop down on my bed. “What if Chase breaks up with me because people know I write threesome LotR-inspired stories?”

“He already knows about your stories, though. Doesn’t he even read them?”

“Yeah, but everyone knows now. And two guys offered to tag-team me already.”

“What two guys?”

“I don’t know. They were in the hall reading whatever was stuck to my door.” I drag a hand down my face. “This is probably just the beginning.”

“Fuck those guys.” Her lips pucker. “Not literally, though.”

Tally falls silent. After a few minutes she mutters, “Oh wow. Holy shit.”

I don’t say anything. I know the story.

She tugs on her collar, crosses and uncrosses her legs, grips the edge of my desk between page scrolls. “Okay, so now I kind of get the allure.”

“Of LotR fic?” I ask.

“Of MFM. This is superhot. I mean, I don’t know if I’d want to share the actual person I’m deeply in love with, but the fantasy is hot.”

“I picture Chase and a second Chase now when I write those scenes,” I offer.

Her eyes light up. “Like sweet Chase and dirty Chase?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“I can see how that would be inspiring.” She closes her eyes. “Yeah, if I envision my fantasy boyfriend times two that would totally do it for me.”

I have a feeling her fantasy boyfriend probably isn’t her real boyfriend. She goes back to reading.

I pull up my fic on my phone and scroll through the new reviews. Usually there are one or two shitty ones, but several new accounts have popped up and they’re ripping apart every single chapter. It’s brutal.

“My fic is being flooded with horrible reviews. And some of them have outed my real name. And there’s a freaking picture of me with bedhead! How will I ever leave my room after this?” Tears well again.

Tally rolls the chair back and crosses over to my bed. She hugs me and I cry. Then she takes my phone and reads all the shitty things people have said. She also reports the review with the picture of me. “Look, I know right now this feels like the worst thing in the world, but there are three new reviews from people who are in love with this story. And honestly, I can understand why, because it’s superhot and until half an hour ago, I wasn’t into LotR fic and now I’m super into LotR fic. Like I want my friend Hammer to make us shirts and stuff.”

I laugh and wipe the tears away with the sleeve of Chase’s shirt. That I’m still wearing. “People are going to be dicks.”

“Let them be dicks. Fuck all those assholes. You write hot shit. If you hide from it, you give them power, so take it back and just own it, Cammie,” Tally says. “Don’t let them win.”

“I just…don’t want to always be labeled as a weirdo. It’ll be like high school all over again.”

Tally gives me a small, sad smile. “People love you exactly as you are, Cammie. I do, and I’m pretty sure Chase does even if you haven’t said the words yet. I know Essie fits into the cool girl box and that parts of you wish you could be that too. But Essie has her own stuff. We all do. And the grass always seems greener on the other side. I know right now everything feels shitty, but the people who really matter love that you’re your own person. Barbie and Annabelle look like they have it together, but they’re swans. They have a pretty veneer, but under it all they’re struggling too, and they take it out on other people. Show them they don’t have the power to knock you down.”

“That was an excellent go-get-’em-tiger speech,” I say.

“Thanks. I know how it feels to be different, maybe not in the same way, but I still get it. Hiding won’t make this go away.”

“Okay.” I slap my thighs. “Let’s get me dressed for maximum don’t-fuck-with-me vibes.”

Half an hour later—I had to put tea bags on my eyes for ten minutes to calm the redness—I’m dressed and ready to leave my room. If Tally wasn’t with me, I don’t think I’d be able to do this. Also, I’m trying to intercept Chase before he returns to res so I can break the news before someone else can.

We don’t even make it to the lobby without getting heckled.

“This sucks balls.”

“Arwen sucks a lot of balls,” Tally quips.

I laugh, because what else can I do? “Truth.”

We’re approaching the front doors when Chase and Brody walk through them.

Two guys high-five them.

Brody and Chase look exceptionally confused.

Chase’s face lights up when he sees me, but his brow quickly furrows as a group of girls pass me and Tally, whispering and giggling. One girl calls me a weirdo and another one calls me a slut.

“This is going to be so fun. I might as well get a face transplant.”

“Fuck everyone.”

“I feel like they already believe that’s what I do.”

Tally rolls her eyes. “By that logic, everyone who writes murder mysteries should be locked up because they’re serial killers.”

“This!”

“Lovett and Stiles!” Some guy I vaguely recognize appears out of nowhere. Chase and Brody are still half a room away. “Heard about your girlfriend. Guess I know why you two are so tight.” He motions between Brody and Chase. “You ever want to add one more to the party, you know where to find me.”

“I wish I had the power of invisibility,” I mutter.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Chase asks.

“Everyone knows, man. She’s a real freak, huh? Letting you both give it to her.” He makes a thrusting motion. “Just like your brother, huh, Stiles?”

Between one blink and the next, Brody has him pinned against the wall with his forearm barred across his throat. Chase jumps in and tries to pry his arm free.

I can’t hear what Brody says, but the color drains from the guy’s face as he also tries to unbar Brody’s arm from his throat.

A group congregates and yells fight, fight, fight. People are such idiots.

Chase manages to pull Brody off the guy.

I decide my only option is to step in. The last thing I want is to be responsible for Brody getting suspended from the hockey team because of my freaking fic.

I channel my inner Arwen. “Hey, dickbag,” I call out and stroll as casually across the foyer as I can.

His head lifts and his eyes flare as he takes me in. “You have something you want to say to me?”

His gaze darts around. “No, I just…”

“You just what? You heard a rumor and decided it was true? Thought maybe you’d jump on the asshole train and ride it all the way to the station with the rest of the dickheads?”

“I’m sorry. Sorry. I didn’t—I—sorry.” The guy rushes off.

“Are you okay?” I ask Brody.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah. Are you?”

“What the hell is going on, Cammie?” Chase puts his arm around me.

More people walk by, some whispering. A few guys give Brody and Chase a thumbs up and shout, “Way to go.”

“Barbie and Annabelle found out what my fic name was and kindly printed out my story and taped it to my door and the walls and told the entire fucking world,” I explain. “So now apparently they believe you, me, and Brody are in some kind of polyamorous relationship.” Saying it aloud makes me want to throw up. “I’m super sorry you’ve been dragged into it.”

“I’m so fucking sick of their shit,” Brody says darkly.

Chase runs his hand through his hair. “How did they find out?”

I shrug. “Does it matter? Everyone knows now. My entire story is being laughed at and boiled down to just sex and it’s so much more than that.” I’m on the verge of tears again.

Especially when more people pass and whisper and giggle.

I’ve turned the coolest guy in my year into the topic of horrible gossip.

No. I haven’t done this. Barbie and Annabelle have. Because I have what they want, and they’ll stop at nothing to try to take it away from me.

I’m not being even a little paranoid about the whispers and laughs swirling around us. Rage, fiery and hot, sweeps through me. I’m so done being fucked with.