Free Shh! by Stacey Nash Page A

with it. You’ve always been so … popular, and perfect. People get jealous, and like to see those better than them fall.”
    I pressed my thumbs into the corners of my eyes and took a deep breath, wishing Molly was right, that this was just a case of extreme jealousy, but my gut told me otherwise.
    She continued, “They’ll forget it in a few days. Besides, not everyone is talking about you. We’re not all a bunch of gossips, you know.”
    I doubted they’d ever forget.
    The thing was, I wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. Maybe I did do those things, but if I did, it didn’t seem likely that I’d not know it. Surely I couldn’t touch myself in such a way that I moaned and didn’t realise, even if I was passed-out drunk. The sensations that came with that weren’t exactly ones to be slept through.
    “So tell me.” Molly’s tone had changed to upbeat, teasing. “What happened with Logan?”
    Images flared into my mind: a flash of my lips on his, him pushing me away with a gentle ‘no’, hand holding, and Logan’s fist in some guy’s face. Dear lord, I wasn’t sure what order they happened in, and if they were all related. Stupid drunken patchy memories. But I was certain I’d put the moves on and he’d rejected me.
    “Not much … ”
    “Well … ” She drew the word out like she had a secret. “That’s not what this text says.” Molly waved her phone in the air and I sprung from my chair to grab it, but she was too fast. She jumped onto my bed and held the phone above her, tipping her head back to read the glowing screen. “Twelve o-nine: Going home. Have fun with your friends.” She glanced at me and her lips twitched. “Twelve twenty-two: Logan’s perfect. Perfect smile, perfect lips, and his butt looks perfect in those jeans.”
    “No way!” I jumped onto the bed and leapt for her arm, but my hand snatched only air as she dived to the floor.
    “One forty-five: MOLLY! I’m in love.” She dropped her phone on my desk and held her hands over her heart. “That’s so beautiful, Olivia.”
    “You’re making it up,” I hissed. “It’s all a lie to make me spill the details.”
    She laughed and tossed her phone to me.
    My heart fluttered like a butterfly on Red Bull as I scrolled through. Surely they weren’t real. But those texts were from my phone, at those times, and with those words. With a billion drunken typos. Holy buttercup, they were legit. Heat crept into my cheeks. Stupid alcohol couldn’t be trusted not to embarrass me. “I barely even know the guy.”
    “Livia and Logan, sitting in a tree—”
    I punched her in the arm. “It’s not happening. I’m not interested.”
    “Sure you aren’t.” She smirked.
    “I’m not. The last thing I need is a distraction. I need to buckle down and maintain my distinction average. I’ve got to raise it to a high distinction, and even if it weren’t for that, the last thing I want with these ridiculous rumours is a guy friend who’s heard them.”
    “Sometimes we don’t know what we need.”
     

CHAPTER SEVEN
    I watched the clock on the lecture theatre’s wall tick through the seconds. Five minutes until the lecture started and I felt as queasy as I had when I woke up on Saturday morning. Things were no better around Oxley than they had been when Christian first told that awful lie. They were worse. The rumours had spread like wildfire, and I regretted choosing a room that looked out over the courtyard. I couldn’t even open my window without being hollered at from below, nor could I look out of it without copping an eyeful of lewd gestures. The walk through Oxley to reach the path that led up to university wasn’t much better. Every guy that lived in the place thought he was funny, and every girl looked at me like I was dirty. And I felt it.
    Three minutes.
    The walk up this morning hadn’t been too bad. The air had been crisp and pleasant. Thankfully the arts building wasn’t clear across campus, so I didn’t have