Page 71 of Little Paper Games
Sluton her thigh.
Bitchon her arm.
Teaseon her shoulder.
But it was the word written on her forehead that stopped me cold.
Redwas written in big, bolded letters on her forehead, stained tear tracks down her cheeks. My mind processed the picture for all of ten seconds before I raced to the kitchen and grabbed the trash can, proceeding to vomit all the contents of my stomach.
“Feeling guilty?” she sneered at me.
“Feeling… I don’t know,” I rasped out, my throat feeling shredded and raw.
“You should feel ashamed. You should feel… You should hate yourself, Jude Lincoln, for what you did!” She had stood from the table now, looming over me with a finger pointed at me.
“Kenna, I didn’t know,” I whispered. “I had no idea. I would never.”
“Stop lying!” She screamed.
“I’m not! I swear it. I can prove it!” I cried out. I could feel the tears on my cheeks. This was the last thing I had ever expected.
“Prove it? How the fuck are you going to prove it?” she scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest. I pulled my phone from the counter above me, quickly finding the contact I needed. I hit the speaker button.
“I’m sorry for this, Kenna,” I spoke only a moment before Christian’s voice sounded.
“Whaddup, man! Long time no talk!” the voice called out on the other line.
“Hang on,” I bit out from between clenched teeth. I found the next contact, quickly clicking on Devin’s name and waiting for an answer.
“The gang is back together! What’s up, buddies!” Devin’s voice called out. I looked up at Kenna, watching her face go from anger and pain to shock and worry. I stood quickly, guiding her back to the table where we both sat, her arms still crossed in defiance and, likely, a touch of fear.
“Hey, I’m glad I have both of you on the line. I had a question,” I began, working to keep my voice as calm as possible.
“Shoot, what’cha got, Jude-man?” Christian asked.
“I wanted to ask you both about our Junior year fall formal.” There was silence for a second before both Devin and Christian started talking about their dates and the decor. It was oddly specific, and they were definitely avoiding something.
“No, no, not about the dance itself. I want to know about what you did to McKenna Clarke.” My voice was low, almost growling with the pure rage that welled up within me.
“Uh… um... what are you talking about, man?” Devin said, his voice absolutely guilty as fuck.
“Don’t.” My tone was firm and unyielding. These two idiots weren’t leaders. They were followers. They would be easy to break.
“Listen, man, that was a long time ago,” Christian explained.
“Tell me. Now. And don’t lie because I’ve seen the photos,” I growled out.
“Photos?! What the fuck? There weren’t any photos. Devin, what the hell, man!” Christian was panicked. Pure guilt.
“Yes, there are photos. Incriminating ones. So, tell me.” My fists clenched as my stomach rolled.
“Jude, it was just a joke, man, honestly,” Devin tried to explain.
“You told her that I set it all up!” I shouted. I winced at the way Kenna flinched from my tone.
“It was just a joke. We just said that cuz you kept bitching about her.” Devin’s voice grated on my nerves.
“But why?”
