Whispered Temptations

Chapter Two

「 ✦ Halsey's POV ✦ 」

The gym doors slammed behind me.

The laughter became a muffled roar, but the words followed.

The beast thinks she found her prince.

Easy money.

Five hundred dollars.

I hurried down the empty hallway, one heel clenched in each hand. My bare feet slapped against the cold floor, each step carrying me farther from the gym and the private words still glowing on that screen.

The contacts burned in my eyes, but I refused to cry until I reached the nearest bathroom.

I shoved through the door, stumbled into the first stall, and struggled with the lock. My hands were shaking so badly that it took three attempts to slide it into place.

The first sob tore free before I could sit down.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, but another followed. Then another. Each one ripped through my chest until I folded over the closed toilet lid, struggling to breathe.

My phone vibrated inside my clutch.

Mom: Having fun, sweetheart?

Then Hazel:

Hazel: Pictures!!! I want to see the dress!

Halo's message appeared last.

Halo: Don't hide tonight, Hals. Let them see you.

A broken sound escaped me.

They had seen me.

Everyone had seen every desperate, private piece of myself I had entrusted to Tyler. By morning, strangers would know how badly I wanted to be loved.

My phone vibrated again.

Someone had tagged me in a video.

Then another notification appeared.

And another.

The thumbnail showed me standing beneath the projector screen, Tyler's messages enlarged above my head. Someone had titled the video:

FAT GIRL FALLS FOR $500 BET

The view count climbed as I watched.

My face blurred behind fresh tears. I blinked hard, making my contacts shift painfully against my eyes.

I opened Mom's message.

Me: Come get me.

Her reply came almost instantly.

Mom: What happened?

I couldn't explain it. Not in words that might become another screenshot.

Instead, I shared my location.

Mom: Dad is leaving now. Stay somewhere safe and call me.

I couldn't call her.

The moment I heard her voice, I would have to explain that the boy she had welcomed into our home had spent seven weeks turning my loneliness into entertainment.

The bathroom door opened.

I pulled my feet beneath me.

Two girls entered, laughing.

"Play the part where she says he makes her feel pretty."

"Wait. Listen to this."

My confession came through a phone speaker.

You make me wonder what it would feel like to be wanted instead of tolerated.

They dissolved into laughter.

"I almost feel bad for her."

"No, you don't."

"Okay, I don't."

One entered the stall beside mine while the other remained near the sinks, replaying the video.

I stared at the thin metal partition.

Mom had taught me to be kind without becoming weak.

Halo had told me not to hide.

Neither lesson seemed useful when the cruelty had followed me behind a locked door.

My screen lit up again.

Dad: Four minutes away, Kiddo. I'll meet you at the front entrance.

Four minutes.

I pressed my fist against my mouth and tried to steady my breathing.

The toilet flushed beside me. A moment later, water rushed from one of the faucets.

"Do you think she's still here?" one girl asked.

"Probably crying somewhere."

"Wouldn't you be?"

Their laughter was quieter this time.

Something inside me went still.

I unlocked the stall.

Both girls froze when I stepped out.

One held her phone against her chest. The other stared at the mascara streaking my cheeks.

"Here I am," I said. "Play it again."

Neither moved.

"You thought it was funny thirty seconds ago."

"We didn't make it," one muttered.

"You shared it."

She looked away.

Bullies were braver when their victims remained fictional.

"My father is saving the names of everyone reposting that video," I lied. "Keep sharing it if you want yours included when he speaks to the school and the police."

The girl holding the phone glanced at its screen. Her thumb moved quickly over it.

"Whatever."

They hurried out.

The bathroom door closed behind them.

My borrowed courage left with them.

I gripped the sink and looked into the mirror. Mom's careful makeup had dissolved into black streaks, and my pinned hair had fallen loose around my face.

Without my glasses, there was nothing between me and the girl in the reflection.

Tyler had told that girl she was beautiful.

Carly had paid him to do it.

I removed the contacts from my burning eyes and dropped them into the sink. The reflection softened until I could no longer see the details of my ruined makeup.

It was easier that way.

The bathroom door swung open.

I spun toward it, but without my glasses, the figure in the doorway was little more than a familiar blur.

"Halsey?"

Dad.

Malik Meadows stood there in gray sweatpants and the faded college shirt he wore while working at home. His keys hung from one hand, and his chest rose and fell as though he had run from the parking lot.

His gaze moved over my face and bare feet.

His expression hardened.

"Who did this?"

His voice was quiet.

Dad's anger was never quiet.

"Dad."

"Give me a name."

I shook my head. "Please take me home."

He crossed the room and wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. His calloused hands rested there for a moment, as if he needed to reassure himself that I was real.

"Did anyone touch you?"

"No."

"Did anyone threaten you?"

"No."

"What happened?"

My phone answered for me.

Another notification caused the video to play from the preview. My distorted confession filled the bathroom.

Dad took the phone before I could stop him.

He watched my private messages appear on the projector. He listened to the artificial voice reading my letter. Then he paused on the screenshot revealing the bet.

His face became unreadable.

"Who is Tyler?"

I looked down.

"Halsey."

"The boy who brought you here?"

I nodded.

"The boy who shook my hand?"

Another nod.

Dad enlarged the group chat until the names were visible.

"He bet money that he could make you fall in love with him?"

"It wasn't love."

"That isn't what I asked."

"I don't know what it was."

My voice broke.

Dad set the phone on the counter and pulled me against his chest.

"I told him things," I whispered. "Things I've never told anyone else."

Dad held me tighter.

"I thought he chose me."

"Oh, Kiddo."

"Carly did it because I exposed her. If I'd kept my mouth shut-"

"No." Dad cupped my face in his hands. "You told the truth. Carly chose to punish you for it. Tyler chose to sell your trust. Those were their choices, not yours."

"I should've known."

"You should have been able to trust someone who spent seven weeks earning it."

His certainty nearly shattered me.

He picked up my phone again.

"What are you doing?"

"Keeping evidence."

"Delete it."

"I can't do that."

"I don't want evidence. I want it gone."

Dad's expression softened. "I know. But deleting it from your phone won't erase what they did."

He saved the original post and took screenshots of the usernames and comments before locking my phone.

"Where are your glasses?"

"In my purse. I left it beside the bleachers."

He called the school office.

"This is Malik Meadows. I'm in the girls' bathroom near the front entrance with my daughter. I need an administrator here now, and I need someone to retrieve her purse from beside the gym bleachers."

A few minutes later, the vice principal arrived carrying my silver purse. Dad handed me my glasses, and the bathroom snapped back into sharp, unforgiving focus.

The vice principal began asking questions, but Dad stopped her.

"My daughter is leaving with me. You can contact us tomorrow after you've preserved the projector, security footage, and every school-owned device involved."

"Mr. Meadows, I assure you we'll investigate."

"You'll do more than investigate."

He guided me into the hallway.

We had nearly reached the entrance when footsteps pounded behind us.

"Halsey!"

My entire body locked.

Tyler stood at the other end of the corridor. His tie was gone, his white shirt hung partly untucked, and the white rose he had worn to match my dress was missing.

For the first time that night, he looked afraid.

"Sir, I can explain."

Dad handed me the car keys. "Wait outside."

I caught his wrist. "Don't."

"I won't touch him."

The restraint in his voice frightened me more than shouting would have.

Tyler stopped several feet away. "I didn't know Carly was going to show the group chat."

Dad stared at him. "Which part did you know about?"

Tyler's mouth opened.

Nothing came out.

"The messages?" Dad asked. "Her letter? The recording?"

"It was supposed to be one screenshot. Just enough to prove I'd won."

The word struck harder than it should have.

Won.

Dad took one step forward.

Tyler retreated.

"You stood on my porch," Dad said. "You looked me in the eye and promised to take care of my daughter."

"I know."

"You knew she trusted you."

"Yes, sir."

"And you put a price on that trust."

Tyler looked at me. "I was going to call it off."

"When?" I asked.

"I tried to stop the projector."

"You stood beside Carly and watched."

"I froze."

"No. You made a choice."

His face crumpled. For one dangerous second, I wanted to believe the regret in it.

That was how he had fooled me. He always showed me the expression I needed to see.

"Some of it was real," he said.

Dad went rigid.

I only felt tired.

"Which part?"

"The calls. The library. Tonight, when I said you looked beautiful."

"But the first message wasn't real."

"No."

"And you took the money?"

His silence answered for him.

"I'm sorry, Halsey."

His apology sounded sincere.

He had practiced sincerity on me for seven weeks.

"You're not sorry you hurt me. You're sorry everyone saw what kind of person you are."

I turned away before he could answer.

✦─────────────────✦

Mom was waiting on the porch when we arrived home.

Halo stood beside her in a college sweatshirt, though her campus was two hours away. Hazel hovered in the doorway wearing pink pajamas, tears shining on her cheeks.

The moment I stepped out of Dad's truck, all three ran toward me.

Their arms reached for me at once.

It was exactly what I used to draw as a child.

A family without faces because I had never needed proof that they loved me.

Mom reached me first. She pulled Dad's jacket tighter around my shoulders before gathering me into her arms. The familiar scent of cinnamon, vanilla, and dark-roast coffee wrapped around me.

No questions.

Not yet.

Only warmth.

Hazel pressed herself against my side, crying hard enough to shake us both. Halo wrapped her arms around all three of us, holding on as though she could build a wall around me with her body.

Dad stood behind us, one protective hand resting between my shoulder blades.

For the first time since the projector screen descended, I could breathe.

"I want to go inside," I whispered.

Mom kissed my damp cheek. "Then we'll go inside."

They moved with me as one tangled mass of arms and tears, surrounding me as we crossed the threshold.

My childhood drawings had gotten one thing right.

Sometimes, the hands reaching toward you really did intend to pull you out of the darkness.

That night, my family refused to let me fall any farther.