Faking Forever With The Hockey Captain

Chapter Fourteen

Zoey's POV:

I knew that keychain the second I saw it hanging from that stranger's hand in the photograph. Olivia carried it on her bag every single day, a small silver treble clef her older sister gave her before leaving for college. My stomach dropped before I could stop myself from staring at it.

"That's Olivia's," I said.

Ryan's eyes snapped up from the phone. "You're sure?"

"I've seen it every day since freshman year. She never takes it off her bag." I pressed my palm flat against the cool locker beside me, needing something solid to hold onto while my thoughts scattered in ten directions at once. "Why would her keychain be in a creepy photo with Madison?"

Ryan shoved the phone into his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. But Olivia's been everywhere we are since the rumor started. Cafeteria. Dawson's office. Now this."

"You think she sent those texts?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe isn't an answer, Ryan."

"It's the only one I've got right now." He leaned back against the lockers, and his face shifted, the worry easing into the smirk I'd learned to brace myself for. "Relax. I've got this handled."

"You've got nothing handled. You just found out your ex's stalker photo has our student council president's keychain in it."

"See, when you say it like that, it sounds bad."

"It is bad."

"It's a little bad." He held up two fingers, barely an inch apart, and the corner of his mouth twitched when I didn't laugh. "That was funny."

"It was not funny."

"You almost smiled."

"I did not."

"You're doing it right now." He tilted his head to get a better look, and I pressed my lips together to keep the smile from breaking free, which only made his grin widen further. "Come on. Girlfriends are supposed to smile at their boyfriends. People will talk if you keep glaring at me in empty hallways."

"We're the only ones in the hallway."

"Then you've got no excuse."

I opened my mouth to argue, and nothing useful came out, because he'd taken a step closer while I wasn't paying attention and arguing suddenly felt like more effort than it was worth. Neither of us moved to close the last stretch of space between us, and neither of us stepped back either, the standoff sitting there unresolved until my phone buzzed hard against my hip.

I pulled it out, grateful for the excuse to look anywhere but his face. Ava's name filled the screen along with three messages stacked on top of each other.

Where are you?

Olivia just told Mrs. Dawson you and Ryan are using the festival to hide something.

She's on her way to find you right now.

I read it twice before I showed the screen to Ryan, watching his jaw tighten as his eyes moved across the words.

"She's already talking to Dawson," I said.

"About what exactly?"

"Ava didn't say. Just that Olivia thinks we're hiding something."

Ryan let out a short breath through his nose, and the easy teasing from a minute ago drained straight out of his posture. "She's trying to get us pulled from the committee before we figure out what she's actually up to."

"You don't know that."

"We've seen that Olivia doesn't do anything by accident." He pushed off the lockers, already moving toward the stairs, and I fell into step beside him because standing still while our reputations unraveled somewhere else in the building sounded worse than walking fast. "We need to talk to Dawson before Olivia gets things ruined more."

"And say what? That we found her keychain in a stalker photo with no explanation for how it got there?"

"We say we're handling the committee fine and she's spreading rumors to cover for something."

"That sounds like an accusation, Ryan."

"It is an accusation."

"One we can't prove yet."

He stopped at the top of the stairwell and turned to face me, close enough that I had to tip my chin up to hold his gaze, his expression had gone serious in a way I hadn't seen since the day he told me about his father's expectations. "Then we buy time until we can prove it."

"How?"

"By doing exactly what we've been doing." His hand found mine at my side, fingers threading through without asking permission, and the gesture felt steadier than anything else happening around us right then. "We walk in there together, and we look like the last two people who'd let a rumor fall apart."

My pulse climbed at the way he said it, low and certain, like the plan wasn't just about the committee anymore. I didn't pull my hand back. "You're enjoying this a little too much."

"A little."

"That's concerning."

"You like it." He tugged me forward, down the first step, close enough now that I caught the same laugh building in his eyes that had been sitting there the whole conversation. "Admit it."

"I'm not admitting anything."

"You will eventually."

We reached the bottom of the stairs still tangled together, hand in hand, and rounded the corner toward the office just as the door swung open ahead of us. Mrs. Dawson stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable, my stomach dropping for the second time that day.

Behind her, Olivia stood with her bag slung over one shoulder, and the exact spot where a small silver keychain should have been hanging sat completely empty.