Chapter Seventeen:

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I shrug—I honestly didn't know—and together, we start to make our way around the gym. Several groups of students congratulated me, giving me pats on the back and one-armed hugs. I just pushed through, trying to, on the outside, stay polite for them and, on the inside, worried for me, worried about Tate and what could have happened.

I'd gone outside to the front stairs three times before I noticed the couple in romantic embrace hiding in the shadow of one of the columns. I stopped on the front steps, my heart jack hammering in my chest.

It was a guy and a girl; the guys back was to me. The girl was pressed against the brick wall, her dress hiked high, showing her upper thigh. The moon illuminated white skin, unblemished. The boy didn't have a dress coat on; his back was slightly damp with sweat, his shirt sticking to him, showing defined back muscles.

"Um..." I said, taking a tentative step closer.

Neither person seemed to have heard me.

I take another step closer; I can hear the sloppy sounds their mouths were making, the moans and sighs that were coming from the girl. The boy mumbled something that sounded passionate, but also could have been mistaken for angry. My stomach churned. I closed the last steps between me and the romantically embraced couple. Shakily, I reached out a hand and tapped the boys' shoulders.

I was surrounded by the smell of hickory smoke; my heart stopped before the boy turned around.

"Tate?" I whispered, my voice broken and doubtful and tiny.

Finny was against the wall, her little red dress rucked up to the bottom of her underwear and pulled down to bear her breasts to the world. She was wearing a lacy, black bra; it looked like it sparkled in the moonlight. She had the audacity to look embarrassed, trying to readjust her dress, pulling it down over her butt and up over her chest, situating the straps on her shoulders again.

"Hey, Penny," she said, like this was the most normal thing ever.

I couldn't breathe. I knew it.

I couldn't think. This can't be.

I couldn't speak. I knew it was a horrible idea.

Tate stared down at me, terrified. His mouth was swollen from kissing; Finny's lip stick had left marks trailing over his face and neck. Finny had a dark bite mark on her collar. I just gaped at them both. Someone came out of the doors to the gym; it was Clarissa calling for me.

"Penny, someone told me that you'd be out here and I wante—oh, no."

I didn't turn around; I didn't answer; I didn't dare to breath. Tate was standing in front of me, his eyes pleading and terrified and bright. His coat had disappeared; his shirt was messy, the top two buttons undone to show a triangle of pale skin, skin that I had touched and studied, fascinated how such beauty could have physical form.

Almost without my detection, Finny made her way around Tate and me, walking back into the gym. I still hadn't dared to move or breathe, but my body needed air, so I sucked in a harsh breath and that seemed to break me from my stone trance. I raised my hands to my face, covering my eyes, clenching them around my mask, ripping it from over my eyes, throwing it off somewhere.

Tate raised his hands, taking a step towards me; I took a wide step away from him.

"Penny, please...let me explain. Please," he pleaded. His voice was sweet, poisonous, full of lies. I shake my head and take another step back from him.

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