**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE.**
My words got a reaction from him. Drake’s eyes, normally unreadable, blazed with a sudden fire. I had touched a nerve, and now he was looking at me like he wanted to rip my throat out.
The devil was out.
And it was about time.
Ever since the hockey game, I’d seen it. He could pretend, deny it until the end of times, but I knew the truth. Drake wasn’t heartless—at least, not when it came to Topper. The way he looked at him wasn’t the way friends looked at eachother. There was something deeper, more intense. The devil, Drake, who rarely cared about anyone except maybe his twin, had made an exception for him. He even offered to help Topper through his first shift and even gave him a hole to fuck, a gesture so far out of character.
But Topper wasn’t his.
Topper was with Brianna.
“A good fuck? Love who?” Brianna’s voice sliced through the tense silence. Her wide eyes darted between me and Drake, searching for answers that neither of us were prepared to give. She wasn’t stupid—she was the student council president. But she hadn’t seen this coming.
Drake remained stone-faced, staring at me with a death glare that could have sent weaker souls squirming. But I stood firm.
“Can someone explain to me what exactly is going on here?” Brianna demanded, her voice rising, a tremor of confusion and anger behind it.
Betty whistled loudly and clapped her hands equally loud, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “Ha! I knew it! I’ve been saying something was going on between Drake and Topper for years now. You both owe me two grand, Links and Kelvin. Pay up!”
“I’ll wire it to your account in the morning,” Kelvin muttered dryly, not even bothering to argue.
Links, however, looked like someone had slapped him. “Drake and Topper—what? This is insane,” he said, rubbing his temples like the entire situation had given him a migraine. “But yeah, sure, I’ll send it over tomorrow.”
Betty kissed her teeth. “Four thousand bucks richer, thanks Drake!”
“Just shut up, Betty,” Hannah scolded her.
But Brianna’s confusion only deepened, her face hardening as she crossed her arms and glared at Drake. “Wait, wait, wait… What is everyone talking about? Someone PLEASE explain to me, right now, what the hell is going on!”
Oh, and Topper? He was looking at me, and there…I saw it. The shame. The guilt. The embarrassment. His amber eyes were blazing with a fury I’d only seen once before, the same fury that surfaced when he fought with Raphael on the ice rink, but this was different. This fury was directed at me, but also at himself.
“Eline...” Topper’s voice was low, almost pleading, but I didn’t waver. He was the one who needed to say something—to her. I had already set the fire, and there was no taking it back now. “You promised to keep it a secret. I trusted you.”
“And I told you that I wouldn't even trust myself,” I replied.
“Topper?” Brianna’s voice was unsteady, almost broken as she took a step toward him. “Is… Is this true?”
Topper opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For the first time since I’d known him, he looked helpless.
He couldn’t lie.
Not anymore.
And that silence, that hesitation, was all Brianna needed to crumble.
“Oh my god…” Brianna whispered, taking another step back. “You—Drake—you slept with him? Are you kidding me?”
Drake, ever the ice-cold bastard, said nothing. He just stared at Brianna with those void-like eyes of his, completely unbothered. It was infuriating how calm he could be in situations like this, even when someone else’s world was crashing down around them.
“I—I thought we were…” Brianna’s voice cracked, and she pressed a hand to her mouth as if she was physically trying to stop herself from falling apart. “We’ve been together for two years and six months, Topper. Two years and six months. What the hell?”
Topper finally snapped out of whatever daze he’d been in, reaching out to Brianna, but she drew back. “Bri, please…it’s not what you think—”
“Not what I think?” she cut him off, her voice rising. “Then tell me what it is that I should think, Tops! Tell me you weren't sleeping with him behind my back.”
Topper said nothing.
Brianna cried and it only made me feel bad. Maybe, just maybe, I should have had more restraint over my mouth. “You made a joke of me. What else am I supposed to think?”
“I…” Topper struggled for words, looking more desperate by the second. “It—it’s really not what you think. Drake- and i- we're not dating or anything. I swear to Cessi that he just helps me with my rut.”
“Helps with just your rut?” Brianna echoed bitterly. “And I’m supposed to feel better about that? Like that’s supposed to fix anything?”
Silence. Everyone all watched like this was some tragic play unfolding before their eyes. But this wasn’t a show.
Drake, of course, was the first to break the silence, his voice cool and detached. “Get over it, Brianna. I have been helping him with his rut even before you came into the picture, big deal.”
Everyone turned to him, including Brianna, whose eyes were now full of raw disbelief.
Draken was next to speak. “Topper, can we talk? In your room?” He was oddly calm.
“Oh, you also knew, Draken?” Brianna asked with tear stained cheeks.
“I just had my suspicions. The wheelchair was a dead giveaway, but I never gave it much thought,” Draken admitted.
Brianna let out a strangled sob, shaking her head in disbelief as she backed away slowly. “You’re sick, all of you.”
“I didn't even know anything. Don't lump me in with them,” I heard Hannah mumble.
Topper rushed forward, trying to reach his girlfriend…ex? “Brianna, please—”
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, her voice cracking. Tears continued to stream down her face, and for the first time, I saw her look vulnerable.
Brianna turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind her, leaving us all in stunned silence.