The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(50)

Nobody is around. But I imagine them there anyway. The sounds in my head carry me all the way through the front door of Houston’s house—my house. It feels so temporary, not at all like home. Not that the Delta House ever felt like home, I suppose. The only place that ever really felt like home—other than my real home—was the tiny dorm space I shared with my sister and Rowe for a month.

I never should have left.

All I want is to run upstairs and hide, to search for myself more on the Internet, just like I did all night instead of sleeping. Maybe I’ll sleep. Maybe, if I shut my eyes here, in this house, I won’t hear them taunting me.

“We need to talk,” Houston says, stepping out of his room across the hall from me. He startles me, and my bag slips from my shoulder, dropping at my feet and spilling my books on the floor. I kneel down to pick them up, but Houston beats me, collecting my biology and algebra books in his hands then reaching for my bag. His hand covers mine, and I know I’m trembling and he can feel it.

“Just…just give them to me,” I say, not looking at him, jerking the bag away and reaching for my books. I glance up and his brow is pinched. I know he thinks I’m trembling because of him. But I’m not. I’m nervous lately because of everyone. And I f*cking hate it.

“Look, this is awkward, and I was ready to confront you about this about an hour ago, but then I came home and have been waiting, and now I’m not really as mad as I was before, maybe just confused. Just…just tell me the truth. I need to know.” He’s rambling, but he lets just enough escape, his words giving me faint clues that point me in the right direction. My chest constricts, and breathing…it gets harder. “Is this…you?”

When he hands the phone to me, a video displayed on the screen, paused in a close-up of my face, I feel everything inside of me ignite and then die all at once. Even with the rumors, I still hadn’t seen it for myself. I could pretend it wasn’t real then, pretend that it was all just words being passed around, without any visual proof.

What Houston is handing me now, though—that begs to differ. What he’s handing me is real. It’s also a nightmare, a walking, digital nightmare, wrapped up and sent to me with the hope of taking me out of the equation.

I pull the phone into my palms, stepping back a few strides until my back hits the wall. I need that wall there, to support me. I hover my finger over the screen, bringing myself to tap once. I hear the sounds—like the evil echoes that have been replaying in my head since last night—and I stop it instantly. My eyes close.

“Paige?” Houston’s voice oozes disappointment. I won’t look at him.

“Houston,” I respond, my eyes flickering open, but remaining focused on my feet, as well as on the phone in my hands. My voice comes out even. I’m working hard to make it so. My heart is beating wildly, hurting me from the inside. I think I may be sick.

“No, you don’t get to do that,” he says, his indignation growing, stirring my emotions, making everything that hurts inside me right now feel messier.

“Get to do what? Be angry? Because…ha!” I laugh once, the sound coming out in a punctuated puff of air, louder than I anticipated, and I glance at Leah’s door. It’s open, as is Houston’s mom’s. We’re alone, which means I can be as loud as I want. Like hell am I going to be the one wrong here.

“Paige!” he says in a loud whisper, his hands flying to his forehead, pushing through his damned perfect hair, his eyes wide. “How could you do something like this?”

“You think…I’m…I’m sorry…you think I purposely did this?” I laugh again.

“I don’t know what to think. All I know is those guys the other night; that was about this, wasn’t it? And I…goddamnit Paige, I defended you against them. But they were…” his voice grows weak before he finishes that sentence, so I step in and finish it for him.

“They were what, Houston? They were…right? Is that what you meant to say?” I push off from the wall, my hands folded in front of me. I turn and kick my bag of books into my room, so I can close the door on him as soon as I want to and not have to come back out for anything.

“Well they weren’t exactly wrong, Paige,” he sighs, his hand rubbing at his neck. I want to punch him. The longer he looks at me, like that—like I did something wrong—the more blood pumps through my arms and fingers and neck and legs. Every limb, every muscle feels strong. Houston is twice my size, but with the energy I feel right now, I’m confidant I would kill him if I tried.

“Watch it,” I seethe, pointing a finger at him, my eyes narrowing. To think there were times when I actually let myself indulge in the thought of kissing him—of crossing the line with him, of making an exception and breaking my rules about dating boys who can only get me somewhere. “You don’t get to judge me,” I say, my voice picking up strength with every word, every sentence. “And that video…this video?” I hold the phone up. He reaches for it, but I shake my head no, pushing the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. “Uh, no. I’m taking this copy, and you can have the phone back when I’ve erased it.”

“It’s not my phone,” he grumbles.

“Well then, you shouldn’t care how long I keep it,” I say, folding my arms again over my chest. I can feel the steady drumming against my skin, my heartbeat now in a cadence, a pissed-off, ready-to-slay-someone cadence. “This video is out there to hurt me. I didn’t make it. At least not knowingly. And the fact that you ever thought I would…means I was way wrong about the kind of guy I thought you were.”