By Monday morning, the festival was old news—except for one photo that refused to disappear. Blake could barely take a step without hearing his name whispered or seeing his face plastered on someone's phone.
Screens lit up everywhere, showing the same image: Savannah, caught mid-fall in the supply room, arms instinctively wrapped around Blake's neck. Her face was close—way too close—and in the shot, it looked like they were sharing a secret, or worse.
Savannah's stream from the night before hadn't helped. She'd posted the clip, captioned with a wink.
- #ScandalWalker
- Did Blake cheat already?
- Savannah ships herself with everyone
- Poor Elizabeth!
- #BlakeIsInDemand
Even Tyler greeted Blake at his locker with a fake gasp, waving his phone. "Dude, didn't know you were such a playboy."
Blake groaned. "It's not what it looks like."
"That's what they all say," Tyler teased, before scampering off as Elizabeth approached.
She didn't yell. She didn't need to. Her eyes were cold enough to freeze the hallway. "Care to explain?" she asked, holding up her own phone—Blake's and Savannah's faces filling the screen.
"It was an accident," Blake said. "She tripped. I just caught her."
Elizabeth stared, unreadable. "You certainly seem… attentive."
He bristled. "What was I supposed to do, let her hit the floor?"
Her lips twitched, almost a frown. "Just don't make a habit of it."
Emily appeared then, arms crossed. "So, that's how it is now? You're everyone's hero?"
Blake looked at her, tired. "You know me better than that."
Emily shook her head. "Maybe I don't."
Ashley showed up with Grace, clipboard in hand, looking more irritated than usual. "This is an official notice: the student council is investigating a possible breach of event conduct," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You'll need to explain yourself at today's meeting."
Savannah drifted by, hair perfectly in place, but her eyes apologetic. "Sorry, Blake. I didn't mean to start World War Three."
He managed a weak smile. "It's not your fault."
Mia found him during lunch, slipping a quiet note into his hand. "People like rumors more than truth," she whispered. "Keep your head down. Let it blow over."
But everywhere Blake went, screens glowed with his face and Savannah's. The chat was relentless:
- Poor Elizabeth!
- Who's next, Mia?
- This harem is out of control
- #CancelWalker
- #MoreSavannahContent
By the end of the day, Blake was called to the council office. Teachers looked on, the council assembled, and every eye was waiting for his explanation.
He did his best to keep calm, but every word felt like it only made things messier.
That night, as Blake finally made it to his locker, Elizabeth appeared beside him again—quiet, close, eyes softer than before.
She leaned in, a rare softness in her voice. "I don't like sharing. So… be careful next time, okay?"
Before Blake could answer, she was gone, and the only sound left was the buzz of a hundred new messages lighting up his phone.