Claire’s POV
Cruise glances around instead, eyes tracking the clusters of students lingering nearby, the ones pretending not to stare. His mouth curves into something that might be regret if I were still naïve enough to believe in that shape. “People are talking,” he notes, as if this is new information, as if he is not one of the reasons they are.
My pulse roars in my ears. “That’s not my problem.”
He exhales, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. A familiar gesture. Once, it would have made me reach for him. Now it only sharpens my irritation. “They think you cheated,” he continues, quieter now. “They think you were seeing him before we-”
“We? There is no we. There was a you, and there was my best friend. There was alcohol so that you can use that as your crutch. And there was ch
