Evan's POV
I find Trent exactly where I expect him to be—the swimming area, sitting poolside with his friends, laughing about something that probably isn't as funny as they're making it seem.
He's in his swim trunks, water dripping from his hair, looking completely at ease while Lena's reputation burns to the ground because of him.
I don't even think about it. I walk straight to the edge of the pool, push him in, and jump in fully clothed, shoes and all.
The water is shockingly cold, soaking through my jeans and shirt immediately, but I don't care.
I swim to where Trent is treading water, grab him by the arm, and haul him toward the pool's edge with more force than necessary.
"What the hell, Mercer?" Trent sputters, trying to pull away, but I've got leverage now. I climb out and drag him with me, water streaming off both of us onto the concrete.
"Did you spread the rumor about Lena being a slut just because you saw her with me and my brother in the library?" I ask, my voice loud enough that everyone in the vicinity stops what they're doing to watch. "Was that you?"
Trent shakes water from his hair and has the audacity to smirk at me. "Does that bother you?"
His tone is mocking, performative for the audience that's gathering. "I just shared what I saw. People can draw their own conclusions."
Something in me snaps. I push him hard, and he stumbles backward, his arms windmilling for balance.
He recovers quickly and comes at me, throwing a wild punch that I dodge by stepping to the side. His fist connects with nothing but air, and the momentum sends him off balance again.
People are shouting now, moving to hold us back. Hands grab at my arms, but I shake them off.
"Stop it!" someone yells, but the words feel distant, muffled under the roar of blood in my ears.
Trent straightens up, still smirking despite the fact that he's breathing hard. "If there's truly nothing going on," he says loudly, making sure everyone can hear him, "then why are you so bothered by it? Why does it matter what people say?"
"Because I like her!" The words explode out of me before I can think about the implications, before I can consider that I'm announcing this to half the school. "Are you satisfied now? Is that what you wanted to hear?"
The smirk falters for just a second, surprise flickering across Trent's face.
Then he starts laughing, the sound harsh and deliberate. "Really? That makes it even more weird, man. You guys never talked to her before, never even looked at her, and now suddenly you're saying you like her and you're both hanging around her all the time? Right after she was looking at some sketchy website on her phone?" He pauses, letting that sink in. "People notice things, Mercer."
My stomach drops. "What sketchy things?" I try to keep my voice steady, casual, but I can hear the edge of panic creeping in.
Trent's smirk widens. He reaches over to where his school bag sits on a nearby bench, water still dripping from both of us, and pulls out his phone.
He scrolls for a moment, then turns the screen toward me. It's the Virgin Exchange homepage clearly visible. My blood runs cold.
Before I can process what I'm seeing, Trent steps closer and lowers his voice to a whisper that only I can hear.
"My friend's dad runs this platform," he says, his tone conversational but his eyes sharp with malice. "I know Lena uses it because I saw it on her phone that day in the cafeteria. If she has an account on this site, then it means she plans to sell her virginity. And you shouldn't like a woman like that, should you? All I need to do is make people assume you and your brother were her clients for the night."
The world tilts sideways. He is guessing.
I clench my fist tightly, his words spinning in my head.
"I know things," Trent continues, his whisper almost friendly now, like he's sharing a secret instead of wielding a weapon. "So it's better if you keep calm and back off. The rumor about her being a slut? That's just the tip of the iceberg. I know what you three are doing behind closed doors. And if you keep pushing me, I'm going to make sure everyone else knows too."
I'm too shocked to speak for a moment. My mind is racing, trying to figure out how he got that screenshot, how much he actually knows, how to fix this before it spirals completely out of control.
When I finally find my voice, I hate how shaky it sounds. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Trent's voice rises back to normal volume, stepping back so everyone can hear him again. "Lena Hart, saving herself for the highest bidder. And it turns out you and your brother—"
I punch him before he can finish the sentence. My fist connects with his jaw with a satisfying crack, and pain explodes across my knuckles but I don't care.
Trent staggers backward, his hand going to his face, shock replacing the smirk. Then his expression hardens into rage.
"You're dead, Mercer!" he yells, and comes at me full force.
We collide in a tangle of limbs and fury. Someone is screaming for a teacher, multiple hands are trying to pull us apart, but neither of us will let go.
I get in another hit to his ribs, and he catches me with a blow to my shoulder that makes my arm go numb.
We crash into the bench, sending bags and towels scattering, and I can taste blood in my mouth but I don't know if it's mine or his.
"Break it up! Now!" A teacher's voice cuts through the chaos, authoritative and furious.
Strong hands finally succeed in wrenching us apart, and I'm gasping for air, my wet clothes clinging to me, my knuckles screaming in pain.
Coach Reynolds has Trent by the shoulders, and Mr. Lang has me, and they're putting distance between us even as we both strain to get at each other again.
"My office. Both of you. Right now," Coach Reynolds barks, but I'm not looking at him. I'm looking at Trent, at the triumph in his eyes despite the blood on his lip, and I know with sickening certainty that this isn't over.
That punching him might have just made everything so much worse.