Page 119 of Stroke of Fate

I excuse myself to the bathroom, needing to get away. The walls feel like they’re caving in on me.

When I return, I know by the way Mack and Austin are hovering over Sam that she’s responded.

Sam eyes me as I sit next to him on the bed. “We haven’t watched it yet.”

“Play it,” I say, swallowing thickly.

The camera focuses on me and some girl. It’s painfully obvious it isn’t Bear. She’s wearing a similar costume, but it’s not my girl.

“Oh, Fuck.”

“Shit, this is bad.”

“What the hell, Levi?”

I hear their voices, but they sound muffled, like they’re coming from underwater.

And as I watch myself make the biggest mistake of my life, I start to remember. Or at least remember the way things felt. Like how her hair wasn’t as silky as Bear’s. Or how her hand in mine felt wrong as she led me into an unfamiliar bedroom.

When the video cuts out, no one says anything.

My body remains frozen in shock and denial. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and when the first one falls, it’s enough to shake some sense into me.

“I need to see her.” I stand, grabbing what little things I have.

“Levi, maybe you should—”

“No, Mack,” I cut him off, my voice harsher than intended. “I need to see her.”

I have to fix this. Knowing she was forced to watch that…I shake my head.

No, there has to be an explanation, other than the obvious, for what happened. Even if she slams the door in my face, I have to try. I love her too much to let this ruin us.

“And say what?” Mack says. “She saw the video, Levi. You can’t deny it wasn’t you.”

“You’re right, it was me, but you know me. All of you fucking know me, and I would never cheat on her. Or anyone.”

My eyes plead with them to be on my side. To not think the worst of me despite what they saw.

If I fucked up, I’ll own it. But something isn’t sitting right with me.

As a swimmer, you learn early on to be in tune with your body. To someone else, it might look like I was encouraging her, but I saw how my forearms tensed. I wasn’t pulling hertowardme. I wasstoppingher from getting closer.

The only thing I don’t understand is how I got into that fucked up situation in the first place. But right now, it’s my words against visual proof. And the evidence is pretty damning.

A loud sigh leaves Mack, and he grabs his phone. “Alright, let me order us a ride. We’ll go there together.”

I nod, grateful I don’t have to do this alone.

The car ride from the dorms to my apartment is quick, but I ask the driver to stop once. It was either puke in the rain or risk messing up his backseat by emptying whatever shit I drank last night all over it.

Despite feeling like shit, I opt to bypass the elevator and take the stairs. It’s faster, and I’ve wasted enough time.

I need to see her.

I pound on the door, Mack right beside me. No one answers, and my pounding gets more frantic with every passing second.

Finally, the door opens just wide enough for me to see three sets of eyes staring back at me, each with varying degrees of judgment.

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