“I just hope that everyone at school gets bored with it when you don’t react, so they can turn their attention to other things and other people.” Jesse paused, pulling his gaze away from the window to meet my eyes. “I hope that this is as bad as it gets.”

• • •

There was no denying the tension as we walked through the school hallways that morning. The blatant stares, the judgments, and the jokes that no one even bothered to whisper anymore. How had I been naive enough to think that Kyle’s performance was just a blip in everyone’s memory? It was obvious that I was now a public entity, like some C-list tabloid celebrity who had ceased to be a real person and had instead become something less than human. Something that didn’t deserve respect or compassion, something without feelings or emotions or a living, beating heart.

The three of us stared straight ahead as we made our way to my locker, Jesse and Hannah flanking me on either side like bodyguards. I tried to still the shaking in my hands as I fumbled over the combination, cursing under my breath when the lock refused to snap open.

“Mina . . .” Hannah said, “I think—”

“Hold on for just a minute,” I said, frustrated. “I can’t get my damn locker to open.” I spun the dial back through the familiar pattern, and after a few tries, the lock clicked open against my palm.

“What were you saying?” I started to reach for my books on the top shelf. “Han?”

I froze, my calculus book suspended in midair. The hallway around me suddenly felt too quiet, expectant, as if everyone but me was holding their breath.

I lowered the book and slowly turned around.

Nate. Nate and Jesse, face-to-face, standing barely a foot apart in the middle of the hallway. Everything else had ceased to matter—all eyes and attention focused on them, waiting for whatever movement or word would come next.

“It was you,” Nate said, his voice low and threatening and almost entirely unrecognizable. Though I hadn’t actually heard him speak since August, I realized. Maybe I’d already forgotten what he sounded like. Maybe a few months was all it took to make someone a complete stranger. “You’re the father, aren’t you?”

Jesse laughed in surprise. I flinched, tilting my head down. The laugh sounded nervous to me, a twitchy giggle stemming from his social awkwardness, but that was because I knew him. To a stranger, to Nate, I was sure it sounded mocking. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Mina and I weren’t even friends until a few weeks ago.”

“It’s just a little funny to me that out of nowhere you’ve suddenly become her biggest defender. You’re a little too protective for someone who barely knows her, don’t you think? A little too possessive, maybe?”

“Seriously,” Jesse said, stepping back, hands fanned out in front of him, “you’re way off. I have nothing to do with what’s happening with Mina.”

“And why should I believe you?” Nate asked, taking a few steps forward to close the distance. “Who else could it have been? I don’t exactly see any other guys trailing around behind her like a desperate little puppy. You’re making it a little too obvious, don’t you think? I know that you work with her. Were you there at the beginning of the summer, when she . . . ?” As he asked that question, I could see in his eyes that something had clicked. The details were spinning into new, terrible possibilities for him. He looked so sad suddenly, so broken, that I fought the urge to run to his side. “That night you came to my house crying,” he said, slowly turning to face me. “Was that when it happened, Mina? Was that guilt? Were you going to tell me something then?”

“Nate, no!” I yelled, pushing my way through the throngs of gawkers to wedge myself in between the two of them. I couldn’t stand that he thought that—I hadn’t, I never would have. “Jesse and I are just friends. Nothing happened between us. You have this all wrong. I promise.”

“You promise?” Nate asked, his voice breaking so loudly and so obviously that his entire face flamed red with embarrassment. “Sorry, Mina, but your word stands for very little these days.”

Someone in the hallway laughed, a hollow sound that set off a round of murmuring all around us.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” I pleaded, blinking to keep the tears back. “Somewhere where we’re not on public display?”

“That seems unnecessary. It’s not like any of this is a secret. Not anymore. And the way I see it, you deserve for everyone to see you for who you really are.”

“Nate, stop,” Hannah said, stepping up beside me and squeezing my hand. “You’re making a complete ass of yourself. Just let it go. You’re hurt. I get that. But this isn’t going to make things any better.”

“Just let it go? Like it’s that simple? She lied to me and to everyone else, and she’s still lying. We can’t all be as naive and forgiving as you are, sadly, though I guess life must be much easier that way. I envy you a little.”

Hannah’s fingers gripped my hand tighter, the bones of my knuckles grinding into one another. “This isn’t your business anymore.”

“Not my business? Not my business that my girlfriend is parading around right in front of me with the guy she cheated on me with?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I said. “And that was entirely your decision.”

“Like I had a choice.”

“You did.” I choked on the words, swallowing hard as the tears finally rolled down my cheeks. “You definitely did. But that’s in the past. We are in the past. Please, please just leave me alone. Please, Nate.”

Nate looked away, and I thought that he was finished. I thought that he had scraped together enough decency to back off. Nate wasn’t an aggressive person—it wasn’t in his nature. Or so I had incorrectly thought, because before I could even take a full deep breath, Nate lunged forward, shoving Jesse stumbling back through the crowds until his back slammed against the lockers.

“Just admit it!” Nate yelled, angry tears streaming down his twisted face as he pinned Jesse by the shoulders. “Just admit that you slept with my girlfriend, you fucking coward!”

“Nate! Stop!” Izzy appeared at Nate’s side, her strong, capable arms tugging him away from Jesse. “You have too much to lose to get caught in a fight. Think about sports, about college. He’s not worth the punishment. You’re better than this. You’re better than all this.”

Her words must have worked some sort of spell on him, because he seemed to instantly transform back into calm, sensible, predictable Nate—it was as if Jekyll and Hyde had stepped right out of the pages of our English lit reading. He shook his head a few times and stepped back, letting Izzy pull him in more closely against her. I stared at their hands, their fingers interlocked, so close and familiar, their cheeks nearly touching as Izzy whispered something into his ear.

My stomach tumbled and turned as I stood there watching them. I could handle not having either of them in my life. I’d accepted that that was the way things were, the way things would probably always be. But the two of them together? Kissing, cuddling, and, oh God, going further than Nate and I ever had? I couldn’t. I couldn’t handle that. I shut my eyes and turned away, trying to block the flood of images that were spilling across my mind.

“Mina? Mina, are you okay?”

I opened my eyes to see Jesse staring down at me, frowning, Hannah close behind him.

“I should be asking you that, Jesse, seeing as you just got in your second fight because of me. Did Nate hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about me. But the way you looked just now, with your eyes closed, and your skin that pale, I don’t know . . . I just thought something was really wrong. You scared me.”

“Sorry about that. I just got really anxious, that’s all. I try to close my eyes and deep breathe whenever I get stressed out. Keep calm for . . .” My gaze turned down toward my stomach, and I could feel Jesse’s eyes following the movement. “Keep calm for the baby.” I didn’t care if anyone heard me, because Nate was at least right about one thing. None of this was a secret anymore. There was no point in walking on eggshells, pretending that the obvious wasn’t happening in front of all our eyes.