The words are unspoken, but I feel them just as intensely as if he’d yelled them in my face—he’ll never consider me for a position now.
60
GABBY
Everything movesin slow motion as I exit the building. Kids talk and laugh, and I feel like I’m underwater and being pulled deeper. I want to rage and scream and cry, but nothing I do right now will make a difference.
Just like when Zoe got me fired from my tutoring job.
My nostrils flare. Did that bitch have something to do with this too? Or was Miranda working behind the scenes then, and I had no clue? But why would she give a damn about me back in May? She didn’t even know who I was.
But if I had to guess how Mr. Barstow got so many pics of me acting like an idiot at a football party, images that aren’t even available anywhere online, I’d bet everything in my bank account Miranda had a hand in it.
When I reach my car, I turn and stare at the sweeping, cathedral-style campus one last time as an overwhelming sense of helplessness wraps around me.
After my mom died and I went into foster care, I kept telling everyone I had family. I knew I had relatives somewhere who might take me. But no one listened. No one cared. One foster mother eventually had some pity on me and explained that while, yes, there was more family, they only wanted to adopt Ben.
So even though I ended up with my aunt, I knew better than to trust it was permanent.
That’s why I’ve always kept to myself. That’s why it was hard to open up to roommates and boyfriends. Until Rider and Sienna came crashing into my life, I’ve been an island.
I keep it together until I reach the outskirts of Charming, where I pull into a fast food joint and park beneath the shade of a giant oak tree.
That’s when the tears start. They’re mostly from a place of anger and regret. Regret that I got carried away that night with Rider. Anger because that asshole fired me after I worked so hard at such a thankless position.
But when I think about how I busted my tail all semester just to get humiliated like this, a sob breaks out of me when I realize my dream of working for that school is over.
It makes me miss my mom so much. I wish I could curl into her lap and have her tell me everything will be all right.
For a brief moment, I consider calling my brother, but then dismiss it. It’ll hurt more if he’s reluctant to talk to me, and I can’t handle anything else today.
My thoughts turn to Rider.
He’ll understand. He’ll want to be there for me. After everything we’ve gone through together this fall, he’ll get it.
I dig my phone out of my purse and dial, but it goes straight into voice mail. I frown. He usually picks up in the evening.
I hang up. Maybe he’ll come over later tonight, and we can talk then.
When I’m down to sniffles, I wipe my face and finally pay attention to my surroundings. The sun has almost set, so the burger joint glows brightly in the waning light.
Which is why I notice the couple in the window.
My pulse quickens to a frenzied beat.
It’s Miranda Barstow.
She looks perfect as always. Hair perfectly highlighted. Makeup done. Dressed in some designer outfit, no doubt. Even from my car, I can tell how put-together she is.
But it’s the sight of the man seated with her that tightens my throat.
Rider.
Is this why he ignored my call? Because he’s with her?
My brain scrambles to make sense of this while blood pounds in my ears.
Maybe it’s the stress of the last few hours or the craziness of the scandal this week or the fact that I just bawled my eyes out for the first time in years, but my mind instantly goes down a dark hole, one where all of the worst-case scenarios barrel toward me.
