The tendons in my arms are on the verge of snapping. He makes it sound like we slept together. I focus on his mouth. Not his eyes. Still want to gouge those.

He puts his hand on his chest—a mock heartfelt gesture. “Do you know how many sites have verified me because of you?”

“It’s almost charming how much you think she actually cares about you,” Adam says. “Although intelligence has never really been your strong suit.”

Cullen stands. “Straight people have never really been yours. Don’t pretend to understand.”

“The only thing I don’t understand in this scenario is why you continue wearing that shirt knowing you pit out every time you wear it.”

Cullen glances at the armpits of his collared shirt. Adam snickers.

Hundreds of things run through my mind as I scramble for something to say. Something to put him in his place. Shame him. Before I decide on anything cohesive, the words squeeze out between my clenched teeth. “Your father . . .”

Cullen tugs at his collar, straightening his shirt. “What about him?”

“He won’t get away with any of it,” I say under my breath.

Cullen smiles. It’s arrogant, dimpled. “I don’t mean to hurt you, Lia.” He leans over and kisses my head. “I know you sometimes confuse fantasy and reality.” He chuckles under his breath, walking back to his circle of groupies on the other side of the room.

“I’m all for making him feel inferior, but if Cullen is in on the whole Death Mob thing, that might have been taking it a little too far,” Adam says.

His phone chimes. “From here on out, we leave the comebacks to me.”

I should regret what I’ve said, that I’ve tipped my hand. I spent the last few weeks acting like I didn’t care about the Death Mob. But as Cullen takes a seat across the room, all I can think about is how I will not let any of them get away with what they’ve done.

A cluster of students in the far-right corner of the room all turn at once. They stare at me. One girl reads to the rest of them—something from her tablet. For whatever reason, I’m sure it has nothing to do with Cullen.

Even Katie is holding her phone and staring at me from across the room with disbelief.

Something’s going on.

Adam pulls his phone out of his pocket to read the incoming texts. His face grows serious. He looks up. I shrink beneath everyone’s gaze as I wait for him to spill it.

“Jeremiah Dopney,” Adam says. “He’s dead.”

Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Look at us. It’s almost like we’re real people living in a fun city again,” Adam says.

I twist my Thai noodles around my chopsticks and shovel the mini beehive into my mouth. Green onions, cilantro, and lime assault me all at once.