Page 103 of Web of Lies
“Ah—right, we’re back to this whole blaming me thing again.” Although my voice is even and calm on the outside, there’s a fire of raging, burning in my gut. I want to open my mouth and explode, telling him exactly what I think about his blaming me, but I let my proof do the talking.
“Miss Cole, please—” I slam down over fifty blown-up pictures onto his desk, each displaying the culprits breaking apart my room. His face pales as he takes them into his hands, flipping through them with wide eyes.
“I have photographic proof I wasn’t responsible for the destruction of my apartment.” He swallows a lump, shaking his head, placing the photos upside down.
“Miss Cole.” His fingers steeple, rage bristling through him. “It’s desperate and low to blame others, isn’t it? Petty and childish to photoshop pictures of your innocent classmates to frame them for one of your tantrums.”
Zepp growls, coming unglued at his tightly wound seams. No longer the soft-spoken and non-confrontational man, nope. He’s about to grab Mr. Shaw by the ears and throw him out the window.
“You think I made fifty different pictures of them on my own time to cover myself up? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, with all due respect, Sir.” I spit sir out like poison, but he doesn’t notice or seem to care. He decided the moment I walked into this room; I was guilty.
“Here is your five-thousand-dollar fine for the damages you caused.” Sliding the paper across the desk, a tiny smirk lifts the corner of his lip. “And it goes without saying, Miss Cole, if another incident such as this happens, I will revoke your apartment privileges. Each student earns the right to live on campus and alone, but if this continues, you’ll lose it.” There’s a finality in his words, victory ringing in his eyes. He knows he has me over a barrel. But why? Why would they kick me out? Is that their goal? Hurt me so much I leave? Well, I have news for them.
Zepp begins his discussion with Mr. Shaw about our vehicles. He shows him his video proof, paling the old man even more. He yaps on, apologizing for the inconvenience, my eyes wander around the office. They once again land on the photograph hanging on the wall, displaying the four identical-looking boys at Christmas. There’s something about them that seems familiar.
I sneak a peek at Mr. Shaw, trying to identify which one he is, if at all. The brown eyes, blonde hair, and the pointed chin give me the impression he’s the youngest in the middle, holding a firetruck in his hands and a smile on his face. But who are the other two? And what’s up with the grumpy-looking old lady behind them? She glares at the boys like it’s the worst day of her life when Christmas should be the happiest.
Out of the corner of my eye, Zepp stands abruptly, leaning over to shake Shaw’s hand. They exchange polite words, but my eyes are glued to the photo. I wonder if the back of it would give me any more help in identifying them. Usually, old photos have names, dates, and descriptions written on them.
Zepp takes my hand, pulling me up from the chair. I trail behind him, taking in the doorknob of Shaw’s office, confirming my suspicions.
“I lost you again,” Zepp says, squeezing my hand.
We weave through the hallways towards our lockers. “You got plans tonight?” I ask, taking in the jabs and sneers aimed at me. People walk by shoulder-checking and calling me names. I’m so used to it by now. It doesn’t even register with me.
“Beyond trying to get into the reports about that missing kid again, no, why?” He halts, narrowing his eyes at me.
I smile as sweetly as I can, gripping his hand tight. “Wanna do a B and E?” I whisper, taking a step forward, our chests brush, and he groans. And not a sexy groan, either. It’s more of a ‘for fuck’s sake, Kaycee,’ kind of groan.
“Seriously?” He whisper-shouts. “Where?” he asks, leveling me with a dangerous look.
“Where we came from,” I whisper, keeping the plan directed away from the prying eyes in the sky.
His eyes dart around, looking up at the cameras, and he sighs. “We’ll discuss this later today when we’re studying.” He smirks at that word, and I nod.
I grab my books as he hangs around, waiting for Chase to come and get me. “For the record, though,” I say, turning towards him as he leans against the lockers. “If you say no, I’m still doing it, anyway.” I shrug as Chase comes up behind me and wraps his entire body around my back. He peppers my cheek and neck with kisses, making me laugh.
“Why are you so broody?” Chase finally asks Zepp’s frowning face.
He grunts, gesturing towards me. “Ask your thieving girlfriend.”
I frown. “No, no, it’s not thieving. It’s for information. It’s just a little B and E.” Chase stiffens behind me, staring between the two of us.
“Oh, where?” Chase asks with overzealous excitement.
Zepp shakes his head. “Later, we’re meeting at the house, and then we can discuss where and why, and ugh. I can’t believe I might agree to it.” He shakes his head, stalking off into the crowd.
“He’s kind of a party pooper,” Chase grumbles into my neck.
“Just a worrier,” I sigh, patting his hands on my stomach. “Come on, escort. We’ve got class.” He snorts.
“Finally! You’ve called me by the proper title. Your escort awaits!” He laughs again, picking me up and taking me to class.
“I can walk, ya know?” My squeals echo in the halls as he drags me down the hallway.
“I’d be a shitty escort if I let you walk,” he laughs.
Throughout the day, I endure sneers, name-calling, and even some food in my hair. They’ve gotten a lot milder, but it worries me about what’s up their sleeves. For shit’s sake, they locked me in a dumpster. What was about to come? They saw that the name-calling and everything else didn’t seem to bother me.
