After some calm breaths, I focused on my own healing process and hoped I could transfer some of that to the person who wrote in. Though I knew words were a flimsy excuse for a good shoulder to cry on and a person who cared about you who was truly listening. Not judging. Not advising. Just listening.

Like Dean had for me.

Like all these people who had written in had unknowingly helped me heal through our connection.

Still, the post left me sticky inside.

There were too many of these comments. Too many of this variety.

And I was so powerless to stop it.

One small speck on the web, begging for change, and wishing like hell instances like these weren’t such a universal occurrence.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Amber

“You sure you’re cool with it?” Hannah asked as we walked to the parking lot. Class had let out ten minutes ago, and after the oh-so-fun visit from Principal Tanner telling me that Code Club was over for the year, I was free to give Hannah a ride home.

Dean had texted that he had to stay late and would call me later.

The days were growing tenser regardless of the happiness I had with Dean. The secret of the blog—and the protests, supporters, and popularity—weighed on me more and more.

Only two more months till graduation and less than two weeks till college acceptance letters are mailed.

I reminded myself that then I’d say goodbye to this place forever. I hadn’t decided what I’d do with the blog when that time came, but I was certain I’d have to tell someone about it. Dean or Hannah or, hell, even my mom. Keeping everything to myself was turning my stomach into an acid trap. But it would have to wait. Until it was safe to admit my creation. When Tanner no longer held this major power role in any of our lives.

God, that would be some kind of sweet freedom.

“Amber?” Hannah stopped me, her hand on my shoulder as I almost walked right past my car I was so in my head.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re good with tonight?” she asked again.

“Oh,” I said, snapping back to reality. “Yes, totally.”

We climbed into my car, heading straight to her place. She’d been grounded after the birth control fiasco, which I still felt responsible for—she wouldn’t have been caught if she hadn’t been writing in to my blog.

“I’m sure she’ll let you out to help me with a project,” I said, flashing a smile. It had been months. Hannah deserved to go to Jake’s pre-spring-break party. And after everything that had happened in the last few months? I actually felt like going, too. Felt like escaping the comments that stockpiled in the blog’s inbox and the parents who wrote in to tell me how evil I was.