Chapter 80 Photo
Chapter 80 Photo
Sydneys Pov
I did not see the camera and That's what bothers me. Not the picture. Not what people said. Not all the mean comments.
The fact that I did not see it.
I was too busy looking at Zane. Too busy pretending I was not looking at Zane. Too busy being grateful that he walked me to my building again. We stood outside for a bit. We did not say why.
Someone is always watching.
I just forgot.
•••••
The photo went up at 7:32pm.
I know the time because Sally texted me three minutes later. Three minutes after someone decided my face. My body were public property.
Sally: "Did you see this?"
Me: "See what?"
Sally: "Campus blog. Check it now."
I opened the link.
My heart stopped.
The photo was taken outside the library. The light was bad. Grainy. Like someone zoomed in from away.
You could see us clearly.
Zane walking beside me. His hand close to my back. My face turned toward him.
The caption was worse.
"Zane Becketts new tutor. Guess the Falcons sloppy seconds finally found someone desperate enough to bite."
Below that it said: "Maybe if she spent time eating and more time studying she wouldn't need a scholarship."
I read it once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
My hands were shaking.
•••••
I did not cry.
I wanted to. My throat hurt. My eyes stung.. The tears did not come. They never do when I need them.
I just sat there.
Staring at the screen.
Reading the words over and over.
They did not change.
They never change.
•••••
Sally: "Sydney. Say something."
Me: "I'm fine."
Sally: "You're not fine."
Me: "I know."
Sally: "Do you want me to come over?"
Me: "No."
Sally: "Too bad. I'm coming."
I put my phone down.
Looked at the ceiling.
The cracks were still there. The lightning bolt. The road.
I wished I was else.
Else.
•••••
Sally arrived in twenty minutes.
She did not knock. Just walked in. Used the key I'd given her years ago.
"Where are you?" she called.
"Bedroom."
She walked in. Took one look at me. Sat down on the bed beside me.
"Show me."
I handed her my phone.
She read the caption. Her jaw tightened. Her hands clenched.
"Who wrote this?"
"I don't know."
"I'm going to find out."
"Sally—"
"No." She stood up. Paced the room. "This isn't okay. This has never been okay.. I'm tired of pretending it is."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet.. I'm going to do something."
I watched her pace.
Angry. Protective. The way she used to be before the hallway. Before Jade. Before I pushed her away.
It felt good to have her on my side.
It also felt scary.
Because having someone on your side means having something to lose.
•••••
My phone buzzed.
Zane: "Did you see it?"
Me: "Yes."
Zane: "I'm sorry."
Me: "It's not your fault."
Zane: "I should have noticed."
Me: "Me "
Zane: "How do you want me to handle this?"
I stared at the screen.
How did I want him to handle it?
I did not know.
No one had ever asked me that
Me: "I don't know."
Zane: "Okay. I'll handle it."
Me: "Zane—"
Zane: "Trust me."
I put the phone down.
Trust him.
Such a small word for such a thing.
•••••
Sally stopped pacing.
"What did he say?"
"He said he'll handle it."
"Handle it how?"
"I don't know."
"Do you trust him?"
I looked at her.
Did I trust Zane Beckett?
I'd known him for weeks. Spent hours in a room with him. Walked home with him.
Trust?
Trust is different.
Trust is letting someone see the parts of you that you keep hidden.
Trust is believing they won't use them against you.
"I don't know " I said again.
Sally sat down beside me. Took my hand.
"Then wait. See what he does. That's how you find out if someones worth trusting."
"What if he does nothing?"
"Then you have your answer."
•••••
By 9pm the post had two hundred comments.
Some were mean. Some were cruel. Some were from people I'd never met.
Some were different.
"This is body shaming. Report it."
"Leave her alone. Shes just trying to graduate."
"Zane Beckett doesn't seem like the type to care what you think."
"Sydney Caldwell is one of the people in this school. Maybe focus on your grades."
I did not know who wrote those.
Strangers, probably.
People who'd never spoken to me.
People who had nothing to gain by defending me.
They did it anyway.
That made me cry.
Not the cruelty. The kindness.
The unexpected kindness.
•••••
Zane: "Its handled."
Me: "What did you do?"
Zane: "I reported it. The blog took it down. Anyone who reposts will deal with me directly."
Me: "You didn't have to do that."
Zane: "Yes I did."
Me: "Why?"
Zane: "Because you deserve better."
I stared at the screen.
Tears running down my face.
Sally squeezed my hand.
"What did he say?"
I showed her.
She read it. Smiled.
"Maybe he's worth trusting all."
•••••
The post was gone by 10pm.
I could still see it.
Every word. Every comment.
I'd been body shamed before.
Middle school. High school. College.
It never gets easier.
You just get better at pretending it doesn't hurt.
It hurts.
It always hurts.
•••••
Zane: "Can I call you?"
Me: "Why?"
Zane: "Because I want to hear your voice."
I stared at the screen.
My phone rang.
I answered.
"Hey " he said.
"Hey."
"You okay?"
"No."
"Me neither."
We sat in silence.
Not awkward. Just present.
"I'm sorry " he said again.
"Stop apologizing."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because someone should."
I closed my eyes.
Listened to him breathe.
He was there. On the end of the line.
Thinking about me.
The way I was thinking about him.
•••••
" time Monday?" he asked.
"Same time Monday."
"I'll walk you home."
"You always walk me home."
"Tonight I mean it differently."
I did not ask what that meant.
I was afraid of the answer.
"Goodnight, Zane."
"Goodnight, Sydney."
The line went dead.
I put my phone down.
Sally was asleep on my couch.
My apartment was quiet but My head was loud.
The photo. The caption. The comments.
Zane.
Always Zane.
Someone snapped a picture of us outside the library.
“Oh my goodness”….