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He takes my hand and leads me down the hall, testing door knobs along the way. He finds one that’s unlocked. It looks like it’s a study room, and he’s about to pull me inside when Twyler shouts my name, “Nadia, wait.”

“TG,” Axel says, looking at Reese walking up behind his girlfriend. “This better be good.”

“Did you see it?” she asks, looking between us.

I frown. “See what?”

She opens up her phone and pulls up a text thread between her and the other physical therapy interns on campus. One is from the football intern. It’s a link.

“It’s Brent and CJ.” The video pops up and starts playing. It’s from a phone and the footage is shaky, but clear enough to see the outside of a club in town and a crowd gathering at the entrance. Suddenly the crowd parts, and Brent comes out first, handcuffed and escorted by the police. CJ follows. The caption underneath says, “Wittmore Football Players arrested on New Year’s Eve.”

“Does it say why?” I ask, opening the comments.

“Not yet,” Twyler says. “Mostly rumors and speculation, but there are a lot of people who seem to suspect it’s about drugs or assault.”

“Are there any names in there?” I ask. Axel’s arm wraps around my waist. “Did they name me?”

Twyler scrolls down the page. “No. Not yet, at least.”

My best friend looks up at me and I feel the hot tears building in my eyes. All the emotions hit me at once; relieved. Exhausted. Scared. Twyler senses it and throws her arms around me. “I’m proud of you,” she says. “I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Thanks for pushing me to report them.”

Reese squeezes my shoulder and I give him a hug, too. Without Reese and Axel coming with Twyler that night, I don’t know what would have happened.

Axel spins me around, and cups my cheeks in his hands. “Talk to me, darlin’.”

I take a deep breath and say, “They believed us.”

“They believedyou.”

I smile and he says, “Oh shit.”

“What?”

He opens his bag and pulls out the bottle of champagne.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “That’s for midnight.”

“This is for a celebration,” he says, lifting the bottle and peeling off the foil wrapper. “And there’s no celebration bigger than this.”

The cork pops, spilling champagne all over the frat’s hardwood floors. He grins and hands me the bottle. “Happy New Year, Nadia.”

Not T–for Trouble. Or darlin’ because he likes to mess with me. Nadia. Because Axel Rakestraw knows the one thing I need more than anything else.

To be seen.