LOGINLUKE' S P.O.V
Dre's phone rings, cutting me off. She reads the caller ID. "Sorry, it's Nate." She's about accepting the call, but doesn't. "You were saying?" She asks, urging me to continue. I start to talk, but her phone rings again. "Just answer," I say, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended. "I'm sorry," she mutters before answering. She presses the phone to her ear, trying to get a word in — probably to tell Nathaniel this isn't a good time — but instead she breaks into a soft smile. I get up to leave. Dre looks up quickly, covering the speaker with her hand so Nate can't hear. "You're not going home, are you?" She whispers. You mean back to my house, where my Dad still is? "No," I say and walk out. Dre's giggle fades as I close the door, sitting at the edge of the staircase. I wait for her, but the call doesn't end. Ten minutes, thirty and now an hour. She's not getting off that call any time soon. Maybe I don't need to tell Dre about the video. She hasn't seen it. No one has— at least not yet. At school, I listened for whispers, watched for stares. I even asked Ruth if she had heard anything about Dre. Nothing. For now, no one knew. I tap against my phone. Who sent it? Why send it to me? It has been hours since the link to the video was sent. I haven't texted the person. *How did you get this?" I type quickly. The sender answers immediately. *Is this Dre?* A question he or she has already asked before. Who is this? I type instead. *Is this Dre?* The person asks a third time, clearly frustrated that I'm ignoring the question. This can be anyone, someone trying to ruin Dre's life by blackmailing her. But why through me? And why my best friend? She's the nicest person I know, yes, she makes mistakes, reckless ones like this, but she doesn't deserve this. So I type back. *No, it's not her.* I hit send. *It's definitely her.* The person counters, followed by another link. My heart hammers loudly in my chest. I already know what I'm going to see, and I hate myself for still clicking it. This one shows Dre's face clearly; the guy's face is blurred— deliberately. Who the fuck is this person? I stop the video immediately. *It's not her.* I reply, trying to bait the person into sending another link. *It is her.* The person replies, thankfully, with no other videos to prove his or her point. *What do you want? Why are you doing this?* I ask quickly. *Keep her in check, or both these videos get leaked.* The person replies. What does that mean? *What do you mean by keeping her in check.* The person reads my text and doesn't respond. Out of fear, I want to type again, send another text, but the door opens. I shove my phone in my pocket just before Dre steps out. She drops down beside me. She throws her arm over my shoulder and rests her head against me like she always does. I take a glance at her, she stares ahead, not at anything specific. She's smiling and is such in a good mood. "I really love him, Luke," she says. Of course she does. I don't say anything. I strongly believe Dre's under a spell, one that only works on guys who don't deserve her. Dre smiles to herself before turning to look at me. "The swelling has stopped," she says, gently tapping the skin beside my eye. I take her hand gently. I have to tell her something. Not about the video— but something. "Don't you ever think, he's not right for you?" I ask, not caring if I offend her. She doesn't look offended, just calm. "I don't think you notice, but all the guys you date are all the same," I continue. "Nate isn't like the rest," she calmly responds. "He is right for me." "How do you know that?" I ask. "He's different, and you'll see if you actually try to tolerate him, like I've been begging you to," she says. "Why did he call you?" I ask, ignoring that. "He's my boyfriend, Luke; he can call whenever he wants to." I sigh. Dre isn't going to like what I'm going to say. "Phineas, Richie, Ryan and TJ ..." I start naming the list of her exes, "They're all the same." I want to say more, tell her the only intentions they had were to fuck her, and once they did, that was it. But I don't tell Dre, she's in such a good mood. "I'm just trying to look out for you, and I really wish you'll be careful." Dre still doesn't sound angry when she speaks. "I understand," she says, followed by a nod. "You were telling me something." "What?" I ask, even though I know exactly what she's talking about. "Before Nate called," she reminds. But I can't tell her about the videos. Dre's always worried about something, always stressed. I don't want to worry her further. Besides, it's something I can handle. All I have to do is "keep Dre in check." "Well?" Dre asks. "It wasn't important," I reply. Dre raises an eyebrow, not at all convinced. "It seemed important," she presses on. I shake my head. "It wasn't." There's no need for her to worry, I'll handle it. "Okay," Dre responds. And just like that, I decide to keep this a secret. Someone out there is threatening to leak her sex tapes under the condition that I keep her in check. My suspects are Phineas, Richie, Ryan, and TJ. Maybe even Nathaniel I don't trust him. He's just another name waiting to be added to her list. Which one of them is doing this?LUKE’S P.O.V The bell for first period rings just as I finish changing. I head straight to regular English class, the non-AP one. Fortunately, Dre doesn’t take the regular classes, and it saves me from seeing her very upset face. It's been a full day since I last saw her and I'm sure she's mad. I knock on the door, poke my head in, and put on my best serious face. “Excuse me, Mr Harlan? Coach Adams needs Ian for a minute. It’s urgent.” Ian’s sitting in the middle, watching with an eyebrow raised at first, then quickly gets my message. The teacher waves him out without much fuss. Ian grabs his bag and follows me into the hallway, looking confused. I pull Ian around the corner into an empty stretch of hallway near the vending machines. “What happened?” Ian whispers. I keep my voice low and try to speak as fast as possible. “I talked to TJ after practice. Cornered him on the court when everyone else left.” I pull out my phone, swipe to the recording, and hit play. Ian li
LUKE’S P.O.V Practice finally ends with Coach Adams blowing his whistle and yelling one last round of reminders about the final game. Everyone’s drenched in sweat and breathing hard as they start heading toward the locker room for quick showers before first period. I hang back, pretending to fix my shoelace. My eyes stay on TJ, who doesn’t follow the others right away. Instead, he lingers near the sideline, bouncing a ball slowly. This is my shot. I grab a ball and walk over casually, dribbling once or twice as I approach. “Hey, man,” I say, keeping my voice easy. “Got a second?” TJ looks up, surprised but not suspicious. “Yeah, what’s up?” I stop a few feet away and spin the ball in my hands. My heart is pounding harder than it did during the scrimmage. I have to play this carefully. “I’ve been thinking about Dre lately,” I start, not bothering being discreet about my feelings. He was there at the party when Vincent asked what my deal was with Ruth and Dre. He has to kn
LUKE’S P.O.V We hit the locker room, change quickly, and head straight to the court. The squeak of shoes and the constant bounce of balls already fill the gym. Coach is in full form, barking orders like always, with Vincent right by his side. “Move your asses! This is the final game of your high school careers! I will not let you embarrass me out there!” We’re playing against the Red Devils, Chrashaw Prep again. All my years playing against them they won every game. They never failed to serve our asses on a platter, whether it was a home or an away game—they're that good. They have a winning streak, and they sure as hell didn’t want to break it now. But the Eagles are just as determined. Vincent claps his hands sharply, rounding everyone up. “Let’s go! Focus! Warm-ups first, then we run sets. Final game means no excuses!” I start my stretches, but Coach’s eyes lock on me almost immediately. “Ford!” he yells, storming over. “You pull that meltdown shit from last game again
LUKE’S P.O.V It killed me when I let Dre’s phone call go straight to voicemail this morning. It killed me to ignore her, but according to Ian, it needs to be this way. Ian suggested I ride with him to school; that way I wouldn’t have to give Dre a ride back home, leaving the chances of the sender catching us together down to zero. According to the pictures, the sender unfortunately has eyes everywhere, the school parking lot too. The list I wrote last night is currently folded and tucked safely in my back pocket. Ian only skimmed through it. His parents came home very late, so he had to attend to them. After his mum made us have dinner/ breakfast, we were both exhausted and slept immediately. As soon as we arrive at school, I give Ian the list to look at properly. The page is filled with my handwriting. Names, motives, question marks, and crossed-out lines. I lean back in the seat, rubbing my still tired eyes while Ian starts reading. He scans the list slowly, eyebrows raise
DRE’S P.O.VAfter hours and hours of lying awake, my alarm finally puts me out of my misery.The glow of my phone screen is the only light in the room. I keep staring at it, willing Luke to text or call me back, but the last message I sent him hours ago still sits unread. He’s at Ian’s. He’s supposedly ‘still’ asleep, but it’s seven in the morning; he has to be awake by now.While brushing my teeth, I call Luke again, hoping that this time he’s wide awake and already on his way to drive us to school. I can’t imagine going alone. Ruth is still mad, and I have a feeling she’ll confront me again and I don't want to face it alone. After I told Luke she knew about us, he went straight to her place to meet her himself. He never told me what happened when he was there— what he said to Ruth, or what she said to him. He came home afterwards and said there was nothing I needed to worry about, and that was it.But worrying is all I seem capable of. Worrying about what happened with him and
DRE’S P.O.VThe line connects after a third call.“Hello?” I call impatiently. “Luke, are you there?”A few seconds pass, and I finally get a response, but it’s not Luke.“Hi, Andrea,” the soft-spoken person responds. I immediately recognise the voice; it’s Ian’s.My cheeks still burn when I recall our last conversation. Ian caught Luke and me messing around in the locker room, and I haven't known how to face him ever since.“Hi, Ian...can you put Luke on the phone?” Luke did mention he’ll be staying at Ian’s, but then he changed his mind. At least, I thought he did. Why else would he leave me here alone tonight?“Uh, he’s asleep. Is everything okay?”I swallow hard. I just want to know if he’s fine, from him and not Ian. But if he’s asleep at Ian’s, everything should be okay then.“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I assure, forcing lightness into my tone. I just wanted to know if he’s okay... that’s all. Sorry I called, good night—”“Wait,” he cuts in. My ears perk up. I strain
DRE’S P.O.V “In here.” Luke pulls me into the empty locker room. His eyes scan around. There’s no one in sight. “What if someone walks in?” I ask as he pulls me closer to him. “No one’s going to walk in,” he answers desperately. He backs me gently against a cool metal locker. The cont
DRE’S P.O.V “So Nathaniel’s in juvenile, did you hear about that?” Mrs Hampshire’s chair feels more uncomfortable under me than usual. It’s probably not the chair, just the way she brought up Nate. “I didn’t really follow up with his trial; I didn’t know,” I admit, fingers twisting in my lap.
LUKE’S P.O.V Dre moves closer to me, running her thumb gently under the skin of my eyes. “Talk to me,” she begs, and even as much as I love hearing her beg, I don’t want to hear any of it right now. My jaw clenches. I take her hand away from my face, then hold it gently . I remember every word s
DRE’S P.O.V (Present day) The sound of the door closing jolts me awake. I sit up so fast I almost fall out of the chair. I look to the sofa opposite me, and Luke’s gone— that makes me fall out of the chair, straight onto my ass. I rub my bruised elbow, scrambling to my feet. *He just left.*







