Page 26 of Mine To Hunt

She turns fully toward me now. “You’re not facing this alone. Got it?”

I nod, even though my throat burns.

“And Ryan?” She adds, fire flashing in her eyes. “Screw him. We’ll pack your stuff later. Get you out of that dump for good.One step at a time.” She gives my hand another squeeze. “You with me?”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Yeah. With you."

But as we step out of the car and start toward the main quad, that uneasy prickle starts low on my spine, spreading like ice water through my veins.

Something's off. The air feels thicker, charged with glances that linger too long. A group of freshmen by the fountain turns as we pass, their whispers cutting through the morning chatter like knives.

"Is that her?" One mutters, not quite low enough.

"Yeah. Did you see?" Another giggles, covering her mouth, but her eyes stay glued to me, wide and judgmental.

My heart stutters, then races full throttle, pounding against my ribs like it's trying to break free. Exposed. That's the word that slams into me. Stripped bare, not just in that video, but here, under the weight of their stares.

A guy from my lit seminar slows his walk, phone in hand, his gaze flicking up from the screen to my face before he jerks away, cheeks flushing. Did he watch it?

The thought twists in my gut, hot shame flooding my face as more heads turn. Subtle at first, then bolder, whispers rippling like a wave.

"That's the girl."

"Holy shit, it's real." I quicken my pace, my bag strap digging into my shoulder, but Maddie notices immediately, her arm linking through mine like a shield.

"Ree?" She asks, her voice dropping as she scans the crowd, her body tensing beside me. "You're shaking. Those idiots. Ignore them."

I open my mouth to brush it off, but my voice comes out shaky, thin as paper. "It's nothing. Just... people looking weird."

The lie tastes bitter, because deep down, I feel it. The video's out, circulating like poison through group chats and stories, turning my private hell public. My skin crawls, every stare a violation echoing that camera's unblinking eye.

"I'm fine. Go to your class. Don't be late because of me."

She stops us near the building fork, turning me to face her fully, her hands on my shoulders. "Bullshit. You're not fine. That text last night. Did you get another?"

"No." I say quickly, too quickly, my eyes darting to a cluster of sophomores who scatter when I look their way, one muttering "Slut" under her breath.

The word hits like a slap, panic flaring hot in my chest. Maddie doesn’t raise her voice. She doesn’t need to. She tilts her head, eyes flicking over the girl like she’s appraising something mildly unimpressive.

“Wow.” She says lightly. “Bold take for someone whose personality is whispering insults and running away… while the entire football team runs a train on her every Friday behind the bleachers.”

The girl stiffens.

“Just a tip.” Maddie adds. “If you’re going to call strangers sluts, maybe don’t do it while your knees are still bruised from last night’s roster. It ruins the effect… sweetheart.”

A couple of people snort. The girl flushes and turns away fast.

"Go, Mads.” I say. “I'll text if anything happens. Promise."

She hesitates, chewing her lip, then pulls me into a quick, fierce hug. "Five minutes into class, you text me. If not, I'm storming your lecture. Okay?”

I nod.

“Love you." She peels off toward the theater wing, throwing a glance over her shoulder, but the crowd swallows her, leaving me alone with the weight of those eyes.

I slip into my classroom just as Prof. Sterling starts unpacking unreliable narrators again, the door creaking like an accusation. Heads turn. More stares, a girl in the front row whispering to her friend, both glancing back with smirks that make my stomach lurch.