Chapter 2 I Still Hate Him

The cafeteria was packed, but the second I stepped through the doors, heads turned and the air shifted. Someone snickered as I passed. "Whore."

Phones came out and swung in my direction. Some people tried to be discreet and failed. Others didn't bother.

I kept my chin up and headed for the corner table where my friends Max, Carl and Dejon sat.

"Chloe!" Max waved me over, completely unbothered by the attention trailing me.

"Slut," Carl said with a smirk, the corners of his green eyes crinkling. Dejon smacked his arm.

"What? I'm reclaiming the word."

I flipped him off and dropped into the empty seat. "Good morning to you too."

He burst out laughing.

They were my only real friends on campus. All three were queer, which suited me fine. I'd had bad experiences with straight men, and girls had already given me plenty of reasons to be suspicious.

I dumped my backpack on the table and rolled my shoulders, trying to work the tension out of my neck. "I'm having the worst day ever."

Max pushed his dirty-blond hair behind his ears and ate a fry. "Don't listen to the haters. There's no reason to be ashamed of sleeping with Logan. They're just jealous he didn't pick them first."

Carl took a slow sip of his drink. "Exactly. They're shaming you for having fun. Half of them are the whores they're calling you."

"How dare they judge?" Dejon threw up a hand, his afro bouncing. "Every single one of them is sleeping with someone. That's college."

I said nothing. Max noticed my silence. Dejon didn't. He covered my hand with both of his, eyes practically sparkling. "Tell us everything. How good is he? We need details," he squealed.

"Don't leave anything out," Carl said, jabbing a warning finger at me and leaning in.

I scanned the cafeteria for eavesdroppers. Everyone seemed happier pointing from a distance than coming closer, but I turned my back to the room anyway. "Where do I begin?" I said, with a smile that hurt.

Max studied my face. "You didn't sleep with Logan, did you?"

I stared at them.

"Tell us you had sex with Logan," Carl said, slow and deliberate.

I shook my head, and their mouths fell open.

"Why would you say you did?" Max whisper-shouted.

"What happens when Logan sees the video?" Carl gripped my hands, eyes wide with panic on my behalf. "What if he denies you publicly?" He gasped. "Or says you're insane and obsessed with him?"

The bastard who had already texted me? He wouldn't expose me. Would he?

I sighed, pulled out my phone, and showed them Logan's message. Their heads collided over the screen.

"Logan reached out to you?" Carl grabbed the phone.

I nodded. They exchanged looks.

"Why would he text you?" Dejon asked, then smiled slyly. "Maybe he wants to make Chloe's lie not a lie." He looked dramatically from Max to Carl.

"Or he just wants to clear things up," Max said, raising an eyebrow.

"Please." Carl rolled his eyes. "He's a man. He obviously wants to hook up with her."

Max nodded. "Right. That's probably it."

They turned to me with eager grins. I smiled back, stiff. I highly doubted Logan Carter wanted to hook up with me, and even if he did, I would never go anywhere near his dick.

"So when are you meeting him?" Carl handed the phone back.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Dejon stared at me as if I'd announced I was becoming a nun.

Before I could answer, Max snatched my phone.

"'Yes, I would love to meet up with you, Logan,'" he said aloud as he typed.

"No!" I scrambled for it.

Max dodged and held the phone above his head. I lunged, but Dejon and Carl grabbed me around the shoulders, laughing as they hauled me back.

"'I'm currently at the cafeteria in Cherokee Hall. Come if you really want this.'"

I stared at him in horror. "Don't send that!"

"Kiss-face emoji. Wink emoji." My heart sank. "Sent."

He set the phone in my hand and patted it fondly. "You're welcome."

"Max!" My hand flew to my head.

"Relax." He said it like he was waiting for a thank-you. "I set up a date. I didn't plan your murder."

I scoffed, furious.

Ping.

‘Headed to where you're at.’

Oh my God. No. Logan had replied.

"Let me see." Carl snatched the phone before I could stop him. The three of them squealed over it.

"I knew he wanted you!" Dejon nudged my shoulder and squeezed it, as if this were something to celebrate.

I had never told them about my history with Logan. Now I could see exactly where that had gotten me.

I glanced at the entrance. If I left right now, I could avoid him. Easy. Problem solved. I shot to my feet, ready to run as fast as my legs would carry me.

"Chloe."

My spine went rigid. His voice was the same, just deeper. My heart pounded as I turned.

"Wow," Carl whispered. "He's so fucking hot."

Logan stood across the cafeteria in a white shirt, denim jacket and jeans, casual, yet somehow looking like he'd stepped off the cover of a runway. Chiseled jaw, evil unfair amount of good-looking for what a prick he was. A small crowd of girls had already gathered around him.

His blue eyes found mine and stayed there, calm. Nothing in his face hinted at how he felt about my claim to have slept with him.

I made myself stay put. If I ran now, I'd be the coward in this reunion. I wasn't the weak girl he'd trampled anymore.

"Go," Max said, shoving me forward. I made a small noise of protest, but I grabbed my backpack, squared my shoulders, and marched toward Logan.

Fragments of the girls' conversation reached me as I got closer.

"I heard you scored forty out of sixty against Westwood—"

Forty points? Really? This jackass was that good?

"How tall are you, Logan? You must be, like, six-five."

"Are NBA teams scouting you already?"

I stopped in front of him, arms crossed and digging into my stomach, and gave him my most hateful look. Who cared how hot or talented he was?

"Chloe." His mouth curved into that infuriating, arrogant smirk.

My eyes narrowed. I bit down on the spike of anger rising in me.

One of the girls looked me up and down. "Oh, it's the new campus slut—"

She cut off when Logan glanced at her, then giggled.

He tilted his head toward the exit. "Follow me."

I huffed and shoved through the crowd. They'd parted for Logan, then closed right back up behind him.

"Bitch!" someone said behind me. I raised a middle finger without turning around.

Logan led me down an empty corridor and into a deserted classroom. The door swung shut behind us.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I glared. His face stayed calm.

"It's been a while, Yoda," he said, smiling.

My frown deepened. So he still remembered the names he'd called me. Yoda had been his favorite, and not because I was cute like Baby Yoda. According to Logan, I was wrinkly, and my glasses made my eyes as ginormous as Yoda's.

His gaze traveled over my face. "I see you've gotten rid of those humongous spectacles."

"Why the fuck did you bring me here, Logan?"

"You're the one who invited me." His smile was bright and pleasant, like this was a warm reunion.

"You texted me first!"

"Whoa. Chill." He raised a hand, but the irritating smile stayed put. He pointed at me. "And you're the one who told the whole campus we've been fucking."

I looked away, my ears heating.

"Nathan almost killed me because of you. Coach had to separate us."

I didn't care if my brother and Logan killed each other. Honestly, it would be a very satisfying conclusion.

"He only calmed down when I showed him our message history. Proof we hadn't spoken once since we got here." Logan leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, loose and carefree, his eyes glinting. "But now your brother is insisting I take responsibility for you."

"Is this the 1800s?" I snarled.

"It's to clear your reputation. And I don't think he's convinced we never actually…" He paused. "…banged."

"I will never. Ever. Sleep with you!"

Logan smirked. "Don't make promises you can't keep, love."

I scowled. "Dohn mak promisses ya cahn keep," I mimicked in a ridiculous singsong.

He laughed like I was entertaining him. "You're adorable, Chloe. I'm the only one who can save your reputation." He said it with the confidence of a knight arriving on horseback to rescue a princess.

"And how will you do that, my lord?" I sneered.

"By dating you."

"Dating me?" I scoffed. Maybe he'd banged his head on a wall on the way here.

"It'll be fake," he added. "Believe me, I don't find you attractive. I don't want to actually date you."

My chest tightened. Ridiculous. Why should I care whether Logan Carter found me attractive?

"Think about it," he went on. "If I deny it, you're the girl who lied and I'm the asshole who humiliated her. If we're together, it's just a video of my girlfriend being dramatic."

I looked away and forced myself to think it through logically. People already believed we were sleeping together. A fake relationship would explain the video and shut everyone up.

"So," Logan said, clapping his hands together, "that's settled. We'll set up a schedule for—"

"No."

He squinted. "Sorry?"

"Try again in your next life, Bolton!" I said through gritted teeth, and marched for the door.

"What did you just call me?" Logan called after me. "Wait. Be reasonable, Chloe."

"Stay away from me."

I pushed through the doorway and he followed.

"Chloe—"

"Stay! Away! From! Me!"

I'd barely finished when a voice echoed down the corridor.

"…there she is. Get her."

A plastic cup sailed through the air, its contents spilling.

Splash!

Cold liquid soaked my hair and ran down my forehead and cheeks, seeping into my collar.

A brunette and a blonde stood several feet away. They'd followed us from the cafeteria. The blonde held the empty cup. The brunette was filming.

"Look how wet the slut is, guys!" the blonde announced, grinning into the phone. "Guess she's into girls too."

My hands curled into fists. It was one of my favorite shirts. The liquid trickled down my neck and my throat tightened. Don't cry. Not in front of them.

I could already see the video spreading. Campus slut humiliated. Campus slut gets what she deserves.

A jacket settled over my shoulders. I looked up. Logan had put his denim jacket on me. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"How dare you?" His voice was low, a rumble, the angriest I had ever heard it.

The blonde's grin vanished.

"Why are you defending her?" the brunette demanded, her phone still raised.

Logan stepped between us. "Because I hate bullies like you."

I stared at him. Did he just say he hates bullies?

He glanced at me. "And Chloe is my girlfriend."

My eyes widened. "What?"

He didn't look at me. "Who gave you the right to disrespect her?"

I looked at the stunned girls, then at the brunette's phone.

It was still recording.