Page 101 of Truth or Dare

Hudson’s breath came in ragged gasps. I threw my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his back. He stood rigid, trembling with rage and grief.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he rasped. His voice broke, and when he turned, tears streaked his face.

“I didn’t know how,” I sobbed. “I’ve been trying to tell you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You’ve known fortwo weeks?” His voice rose, his words dripping with disbelief and betrayal.

“I’m so sorry.”

He tore himself away from my embrace, his fists clenched, the blood smearing onto his shirt. “You should have told me the second you found it.”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“You’ve been lying to me every day since then.”

“I didn’t lie. I?—”

“You lied by keeping it from me!” he roared, pacing the room. His fury was cold, sharp, and devastating.

I reached for him, desperate to make him understand. “Huddy, I wanted to protect you?—”

“I don’t need your protection, Presley!” he snapped. “I needed the truth. I needed you to trust me.”

His words cut deeper than any blade. My knees felt weak, but I forced myself to stand, my voice trembling. “I love you, Hudson.”

He stared at me, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “Go home.”

“Hudson, please?—”

“Go!”

The finality in his voice broke me. Tears blurred my vision as I pulled on my jacket, my hands fumbling with the zipper. Ipaused at the bathroom door, the sound of the faucet running on the other side.

“I love you,” I whispered through the door, knowing he wouldn’t answer.

I left without looking back.

It all unraveled so quickly.The aftermath was a blur, each moment leaving a deeper wound than the last.

Mrs. Braddock’s arrest happened without resistance. She confessed everything, as if unburdening herself at last. Evan vanished from Ryland, his parents sending him off to a private school upstate. And Hudson? He cut me off entirely, dropping out of Ryland High to finish his classes online.

I’d broken him all over again.

The rest of my senior year passed in a fog. I drifted through the halls like a ghost, eating lunch alone in the art suite, avoiding my friends, avoiding life. Hudson’s absence was a hollow ache I couldn’t escape.

Occasionally, I caught glimpses of him—picking up coffee, grabbing a burger at Fromby’s. Each sighting was like a punch to the gut. Some nights, I’d find myself driving slowly down his street, hoping to catch him outside, smoking a cigarette like he used to. But he was never there.

I still loved him. That didn’t matter.

In August, I’d be leaving for college, a chance to start over in Manhattan. NYU had always been my dream, and with my mom’s legacy status giving me a nudge past the admissions gate, the studio apartment near campus was already waiting for me. The idea of a fresh start pulled at me, but even that wasn’t enough to dull the guilt.

I was deep in my final English paper when Neil’s sharp knock jolted me from my thoughts.

“What?” I called, barely glancing up.

The door swung open, and there he stood in his dirty baseball uniform, cleats in one hand and his mitt tucked under his arm. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his expression was a mixture of hurt and irritation.

“I thought you were coming to my game,” he said.

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