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“That was expensive!” she yells.
“So was what you did to Camdyn.” My fists clench, knuckles white. My pulse hammers in my head, the room tense as a live wire. Inez shrinks back, suddenly small.
A girl appears in the doorway. “Inez? You okay? Should I call security?”
“No, it’s fine,” Inez says, voice trembling. “He’s—we’re just talking.”
“Why’d you write this after I asked you not to?” I demand. “You promised.”
“Jaxon, it’s not that deep. It’s a story, and everyone wants to know what happened. Someone would’ve written it.”
“You shouldn’t have been the one.” I sweep everything on her desk to the floor—books, mug, photos. Coffee seeps into papers.
The girl in the doorway pulls out her phone. More people gather, phones up.
“I’m calling security,” the girl says, dialing.
“Go fuck yourself,” I snap, glaring.
She holds up her phone, glare just as sharp. “Too late.”
“Alana, don’t—” Inez starts, but it’s too late.
“You don’t even know what happened, Inez!” I yell. “How could you think this was okay?”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is small. She picks at a sleeve, avoiding me. Her bravado is gone.
“You’re sorry?” I raise an eyebrow. “Think about how this makes her look. She doesn’t deserve this.” My voice breaks. “She doesn’t deserve anything I’ve put her through this year.”
Inez has tears in her eyes, probably from me yelling, but she still says, “I’m assuming by your reaction, it’s true.”
I groan, raw and broken. “What the fuck were you thinking? You wrote about something personal that wasn’t yours to share.”
“So it is true?”
“Who told you?” I demand, kicking through the mess. “You said you were writing about the team, not launching a vendetta blog against Camdyn.”
“I have nothing against her.”
“The fuck you don’t.” I motion at her broken laptop. “This says otherwise.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Clearly you fucking did!” I get right in her face. “This isn’t just a story. This is her life.”
“Campus security’s on their way,” Alana says from the hall, phone up.
“Remove the fucking post!”
“Jax!” King’s voice cuts through. He pushes through the crowd, Ollie and Jameson behind him, all in practice gear. “Jax, come on, man. This isn’t helping.”
I’m shaking, not from anger but something closer to grief. Because I know exactly how this will wreck her, and I’m to blame.
“If anything happens to her because of this,” I say, barely above a whisper, “that’s on you.”
Two campus security officers appear, yellow jackets bright. “Everyone clear the hall,” one says, while the other steps between me and Inez.
“Sir, you need to leave now.”