Chapter Twelve

Amber

“You’re wanted in the principal’s office, Ms. Henderson,” Mrs. Angelo said as she stopped me mid-type on my lit paper.

My heart dropped into my stomach, splashing acid up my throat. I swallowed the garbage down, nodding silently and gathering my things.

I glanced over my shoulder at Dean, who I somehow knew was watching.

You okay? he mouthed, and the fact that he was worried about me warmed the cold fear clutching my spine. That, and his sweet gesture this morning when he’d been waiting by my locker with an iced green tea.

I’d have to return the favor sometime. If I wasn’t about to be expelled for running an anonymous blog that contradicted everything Principal Tanner and the Wilmont Academy website stood for. Like telling students where to get birth control without their parents knowing or advising a boy on how to talk to his partner about having sex. There was also the one about role playing, the commenter worried about her partner thinking she was a freak for suggesting it. Or the one about sexual dreams with teacher appearances and other off-limits people. A month’s wroth of blog posts… I pushed down the thoughts and flashed Dean a soft smile before turning out of the room.

Tanner figured out I’m Ask Me Anything.

The fear amplified with each step closer to his office.

No way. I’m too careful.

It had been a month since I’d started the blog, and with the traffic increasing each day, I’d triple-checked the codes in Tor.

The traffic and buzz over the blog kept growing, along with my dual sense of anxiety and accomplishment. More content than worry—I’d gotten to posting nearly every day now and I actually felt like I was helping people. Though, if I was being fair, I supposed I should give some credit to Mom…and even Dad in some cases. They both were hand-feeding me answers to random questions without even blinking an eye. I probably should’ve told them about the site, but I didn’t want anyone else to be held responsible if I was ever caught.

But that was super unlikely.

Why else would Tanner haul you in here midday?

Two more steps and I’d have my answer.

I halted in front of his secretary’s desk for a moment before stepping toward Tanner’s closed door.

“Ah, Ms. Henderson,” Mrs. Stone said. “He’s at a meeting with the board for the next few days.”

I furrowed my brow.

She pointed to the door on the opposite side of the room. “Vice Principal Howard is who called for you.”

“Oh.” I adjusted my position, the short-lived relief evaporating. VP Howard was by far more agreeable and enjoyable than Tanner, but I still didn’t have a clue why she’d want to speak with me.

“You can go on in,” Mrs. Stone said after I’d stood in front of the closed door a few breaths too long.

I gripped the knob and entered, ordering my heart to stop racing. Tried to tell myself this had nothing to do with the blog.

Don’t you want it to be about the blog?

The conflict clashed in my chest—yes, the goal was to rile up Tanner, but I’d never planned on getting caught. Why else would I venture to the dark web? Risk being expelled and kiss a potential acceptance letter from MIT goodbye? I just wanted…

What?

To help.

To do whatever little part I could to comfort someone when they were feeling alone.

To be someone who listened to classmates who had been ignored far too often at Wilmont.

To fill a role that was missing from this academy.

And this past month… I couldn’t explain it. I felt stronger, less empty, and more fulfilled than I had since Brandon. I knew it had everything to do with the blog, with the comfort and soothing satisfaction through sharing stories, experiences, and advice with people who needed it. The idea that I might be making a difference.

“Hey there,” Ms. Howard said as I walked in. “Have a seat, please.” She indicated the lush chair in front of her slightly chaotic desk.

I sank into it, keeping my voice in check. “What’s up?”

She worked her fingers across her keyboard for a moment before focusing on me, her long red hair pulled up in an elegant topknot. “I wanted to see how you were feeling about your senior year.”

The breath left my lungs so fast I nearly fainted.

Ms. Howard registered the relief and tilted her head. “What did you think I wanted?”

I shook my head, shrugging. “I’m not sure, but originally I thought Tanner wanted to see me.”

Howard sucked her teeth, a slight hissing sound escaping as she did. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I know that likely caused you some stress.” She scribbled something down on a pink Post-it before looking back at me. “I’ll do better to emphasize who is calling you here next time.”

“Will there be a next time?” We’d only spoken a handful of times throughout last school year, she only having worked at Wilmont for the past two years.

She smiled. “I truly hope so, Amber.” Her green eyes were inviting, open, and actually looked like she cared. It was a wonderful contrast to Tanner’s normal suspicious looks. “Anyway,” she continued. “While our principal is away, working so hard to keep ties with the district board…” She ran over the last words a little sarcastically, but I totally could’ve imagined it. “I wanted to take the chance to speak to as many of the seniors as possible.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Okay.”

She sighed. “I know things at Wilmont are difficult at times. That the relationships between students and teachers or the principal aren’t as nurturing as they could be.”

My lips parted in shock then closed into a smile. She really meant it; I could read it in her eyes, in the hope etched in the features on her face.

“That’s true,” I said. “We’re usually discouraged from challenging certain people’s way of thinking.” I wouldn’t come out and say Tanner’s name. Not to his VP, no matter how cool she appeared to be.

She nodded. “I’d like to try to be a buffer to that. I want you to know that you’re free to come talk to me about whatever you want.” She waved her hands across her desk. “Strictly confidential.”

I chuckled. “Shouldn’t that be the counselor’s job?”

“Mrs. Kellermen is wonderful at her job,” she said. “But I would understand if students wanted someone…” She cringed like she couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“Younger?” I filled in for her. Kellermen had been here since before the dawn of time, and her methods of “counseling” were about that old, too.

“Yes,” she agreed. And she was much younger, maybe only ten or fifteen years older than me. “So, here I am.”

“That’s…” I sighed. “Nice.” It was refreshing, but I highly doubted Tanner would let it fly if he found out. I hated that she was in this position at all. That she felt like she had to wait to call these meetings until he was off campus.

“Great.” She raised her perfectly trimmed eyebrows, waiting patiently. “Anything you want to talk about? School? Work? Boys?”

I created a sex-advice blog.

I’m crushing on a hacker friend even though I’ve sworn off boys.

I’m haunted by the past.

“No,” I said. “I’m good.” Her shoulders dropped a little. “But,” I said, hurrying, “I really do appreciate the sentiment. And I know several people who will take advantage of it. I’m one of the lucky ones. My parents and I get along and can talk about everything. Not everyone has that. We’ve needed someone like you around here for a long time now.”

“Well,” she said, “I’m glad you think so. And you know I’ll be here if you ever want to talk to a non-parent, non-peer person.”

“Thanks,” I said, and I meant it. I stood, realizing she was giving me the go-ahead to get out of here. “See you around,” I said, and she smiled before I closed the door behind me.

Once I made it out of the secretary’s office and into the hallway, I breathed. The relief was so sudden I felt dizzy. It had been paranoid fear causing me to think that either of them knew about the website, but it hadn’t stopped me from feeling it.

The comments had tripled since I started posting almost every other day.

It wasn’t a stretch for me to fear that sometime soon, it would get so big I wouldn’t be able to hide behind it anymore.

But this response had to be because it was new. Exciting. A touch dangerous with some of the topics I’d already featured.

It would settle. Or I’d simply find the balance to ensure it was a steady, manageable stream. Something I could handle once I found my footing.

I repeated this to myself until I sank into my seat in Spanish class, drawing up my online workbook that the rest of the class had been working on for ten minutes now.

NightLocker: Tanner interrogate you, Pixie?

PixieBurn: No

PixieBurn: He’s at a board retreat or something

PixieBurn: It was VP Howard

I discreetly glanced over my shoulder, my eyes catching on the relief that sagged Dean’s shoulders. Quickly, I faced my computer again, not wanting him to see my grin.

NightLocker: Good

NightLocker: She’s cool

PixieBurn: Totally

PixieBurn: She should run this place

NightLocker: Agreed

I clicked off the screen, shifting focus to the Spanish workbook. I’d nearly reached the end when another chat box filled my screen.

NightLocker: What are you doing later?

PixieBurn: ...

PixieBurn: Like every Friday

NightLocker: We’ve been grinding it pretty hard

NightLocker: I think we should take a break

Something heavy sank in my stomach. Regardless of how mortifying the idea of Code Club was, it had become something I looked forward to each week since it started. Guess it wasn’t the same for Dean. The notion shouldn’t bother me—we were just friends—but the idea of not spending those extra hours with him had me wilting.

I reached toward the keys, prepared to type out my agreement. I wasn’t about to show my borderline desperation to be around him, but he beat me to it.

NightLocker: Can I take you out?

A soft gasp popped from my lips as I read the message three times. My heart skipped and I had to swallow the thrill storming me.

Damn.

I was actually excited at the idea of him asking me out on a date. Even though I was certain I never wanted to be in another relationship until at least well into college.

When did that happen?

Somewhere between him listening, smiling, teasing his way into my heart.

NightLocker: Don’t shut me down

NightLocker: I’m talking as friends, Pixie.

NightLocker: I haven’t forgotten you’ve sworn off guys...

NightLocker: Even hot geniuses like me

He sent the flurry of messages before I could respond. Somehow, I was both completely melting and disappointed at the same time. He was respecting my choices without pushing for the reasoning behind them. I should be over the moon at that kind of respect, but for just a moment I’d felt…wanted again.

Like I was worthy of asking out.

Like I wasn’t damaged goods.

Not that he knew anything about my past, but still. The blog had eaten so much of my time recently—I hadn’t even seen Hannah as much as usual because of it. The idea of taking a night off from the site, the comments, my gear, was beyond tempting.

PixieBurn: Sure

PixieBurn: I could use a break

PixieBurn: Where we going?

I resisted the urge to turn my head and look at him, worried he’d see the blush on my cheeks or the hope in my eyes.

NightLocker: It’s a secret

NightLocker: I’ll pick you up at 6

He closed the chat like he was afraid I’d argue or take back my answer. I hurried to catch up on my workbook, having a wicked difficult time conjugating verbs while thinking about what Dean had up his sleeve for tonight.

Honestly, he could take me to the coding room, my work, the taco shop, any of the places we’d already hung out before and it would be a good time. Something I’d slowly realized about Dean—we had fun no matter what we did. He made me laugh, made me smile, and challenged me.

Another gasp shook my chest as I closed out my workbook.

Dean was one of the best friends I’d ever had, and I didn’t know it until now. Until Tanner had forced him to run a club that allowed us to have one-on-one time.

Time that had actively helped me create a site that was rapidly growing—and helping students.

Helped me see Dean as not just competition on the hacker circuit, but as an ally.

“Can’t wait for tonight,” he said, stopping at my desk after the bell rang.

I smiled, gathering my stuff and standing next to him. “You really won’t tell me where we’re going?”

A smirk shaped those impossibly perfect lips. “Nope,” he said. “Too much fun to watch you try to figure it out.”

I huffed. “How am I supposed to know what to wear?”

He laughed, turning toward the door. “You always look amazing, Pixie. Come as you want.” He winked, disappearing into the steady flow of students in the hallway, heading toward their next class.

Come as you want.

Damn him. Damn this boy for being so perfect.

He didn’t care if I was in the school’s atrocious uniform or in my ripped-up jeans. It didn’t matter, as long as I was there. As long as I was me.

He should be running his own blog—teach people around here how to properly treat their partners or romantic interests. How to really earn someone’s trust.

The walls around my heart shifted, wobbling with each time Dean’s kindness shook me to my core. I forced them to steady, re-laying the bricks I’d carefully constructed months ago.

He was a great friend.

And that was all I needed.