If Jane's life had been a movie, this would've been the classic "zoom-in, dolly-out" moment, where everything around her shifted while she stayed in the center of the frame.

She looked up at her friend, who was standing next to her desk holding her phone. Camilla's lips were moving, so Jane knew she was saying something, but for a second she couldn't hear anything but the roaring in her ears.

"What?" Again, Jane couldn't hear her own words, but she knew when everyone looked over, in the general hubbub of leaving, that she'd spoken, pretty loudly.

"Supposedly, there's a sex tape floating around out there of Charles McAllister and some bimbo," Cam said, scrolling furiously.

"Found it!" she declared triumphantly. She clicked a couple of times. "Fuck, blocked." She scrolled again and clicked on another link, only to find it blocked as well.

After this happened a few more times, Jane said, "Camilla, we're at school, all those sites will be blocked," and she was amazed at how normal her voice sounded. She stood up and got her stuff so they could head to their next class together.

"You're right," Cam said disappointedly. "We're going to have to go by the Wylers' fence at lunch." The Wylers lived next door to the school, and had open wi-fi.

"Cam, I need the bathroom, tell Berryman for me?" Jane asked, trying not to sound desperate. She must've done an okay job, because Cam just nodded, eyes still on her phone. Jane knew that Ms. Berryman was casual and wouldn't mark her tardy. Once again, being a good girl was paying dividends.

Jane locked herself in a stall and sat down.

Oh my god.

Was it possible that Charlie had been seeing someone else the entire time? Surely not? He was so busy, all the time, and any free time he had he'd reserved for Jane.

But she hadn't always been free, had she?

There'd been days and days when they couldn't see each other, when Charlie had jokingly texted her about being so horny he couldn't fall asleep or whatever. How easy would it be for him to just find someone willing to have sex with him?

And record it, though?

Charlie was hyper-aware of being photographed and recorded. He was always looking for paparazzi, and even fans with phones.

But what if alcohol was involved? Charlie almost never drank around Jane, simply because she was too young, and they were rarely in a place that had it. They spent most of their time in the car or his room, and he would've had to buy it and bring it. She knew, though, that he enjoyed it.

Jane tried to limit her thoughts to the mechanics of whether or not such a recording could exist; she couldn't even begin to think about what might actually be on it if it did.

Because if she did that, she'd have to admit that he'd been with someone else.

She felt tears threatening, and swallowed them back, wondering if she should stand up and face the commode, wondering if she was going to actually vomit. She heard the door open right then, though, and Cam's voice echoed through the bathroom.

"Jane? You okay? You were in here so long Berryman sent me to check on you."

Jane flushed as she stood up. "I'm fine," she called. "I thought I was getting my period, but it was a false alarm." She put a smile on her face, hoped it looked better than it felt and opened the door to the stall.

She walked back to class with Cam and managed to look normal.

By lunchtime the whole school was buzzing about Charlie, though no one had actually seen the tape. A cluster of students had huddled next to the Wyler's fence, but they must've found out about the kids, because now their service was password protected.

Jane wasn't sure if she was relieved or not as they all walked back to the school building. There had to be something, though, because too many sites were talking about it. She felt sick looking at her phone, but couldn't help it.

Vivian, of course, was telling everyone she hoped it wasn't of her night with Charlie, in a voice that even Jane could tell was insincere. Camilla didn't stop at Viv's desk when they got to science, and went right to the lab table she shared with Jane.

"She's ridiculous," Cam declared. "I mean, how gross is it to hope you're in a sex tape, but to be too much of a pussy to even come out and say it?"

Jane would've found her friend's choice of words funny if her world hadn't been such a fucked up mess. She took her seat, nodding, and prayed for the school day to end.

About half way through the period, when Jane was sure Mr. Thorpe couldn't possibly talk any slower, the door opened and Charlie walked in.

Jane looked over at the door when she heard the collective gasp, and stared. This was a zoom-in, dolly-out moment that put the other one to shame. She really thought she was hallucinating for a minute. She blinked to see if the boy she loved would turn in to someone else, but no, it was still him, black hair curling around his shoulders, wearing the teal sweater that brought out his eyes so well. Jane was so happy to see him that for a moment all thoughts of sex tapes, all anxiety fled.

Charlie had been scanning the room, seemingly oblivious to the gasps and noises her classmates were making. His eyes landed on Jane, who was staring back, mouth slightly open, and he'd taken two steps toward her when Mr. Thorpe finally noticed something was amiss.

"May I help you with something?" he asked. He obviously had no idea who Charlie was.

Charlie turned, startled to be questioned.

"Oh, sorry, I need to speak with one of your students for a moment," Charlie said politely. Somehow, hearing his voice made him more real, more there. Maybe it was the accent. Some of the more quick-thinking kids had pulled out their phones and begun to record him.

"I see," Mr. Thorpe replied ponderously. "And who might you be?"

Charlie tore his eyes from Jane to look at her science teacher. "My name is Charles McAllister, sir," he said, "and I need to speak with Jane Carroway, please."

"And do you have a pass? Or a note?" Mr. Thorpe probed.

Charlie, who had again started toward Jane, stopped and turned. He looked at Mr. Thorpe and seemed to decide that he just didn't have time for this shit, because he turned back to Jane, who hadn't moved since he walked in.

"Jane? Please, grab your things, darling, we need to go," he said, nodding at her.

Jane heard some of her classmates echoing the word "darling?" in disbelief. She could feel Camilla's eyes boring into her, but didn't look, at her or anyone but Charlie. She rose, grabbed her coat and backpack and went to Charlie, who automatically took her backpack from her.

He put a hand on her back, and they walked from the eerily silent room without another glance. Jane could hear it erupting with noise behind her, though, a verbal explosion of shouts.

Charlie didn't even slow down. He just kept his hand on her back, propelling her toward the main entrance.

"How did you even get in?" Jane thought to ask.

"Security guard's a fan, told him it was for a TV show," Charlie said briefly. They walked past the guard, where Charlie waved and called out, "Thanks, mate," in a cheerful voice as he led Jane outside and down the steps.

A black SUV idled at the curb, and Jane recognized Tony behind the wheel. As soon as they were in the car, though, Charlie raised the privacy screen, before Jane could even greet him. Tony pulled away and began driving around Redmond.

Jane turned to ask him what the hell was going on, but he was speaking before she could even open her mouth. "Give me your phone," he said.

"What?"

"I need for you to give me your phone, and I need for you to not ask me why," he said urgently. At her continued silence he put his hand on her arm. "Do you love me? Do you trust me? Because if you feel either of those two things, I need you to do this for me, right now."

Jane pulled her phone out of her backpack and handed it to Charlie, who powered it off and put it in his pocket.

"Charlie, what's going on? This whole day's been so weird and awful. The most horrible rumor's going around school about you--" she stopped talking at the look on his face.

"Oh god, Charlie, is it true?" Jane's voice rose on the last word. "It's true, isn't it?" Her voice grew soft. "It's really true." She took a couple of deep breaths, looking down in that hunted, defeated posture that Charlie hated.

"I hoped it wasn't true," she admitted. She hunched a little more. "Can you tell me if it's at least old?" Like from before we met? she continued in her head.

"No, darling, I'm sorry," he said, putting his hand back on her arm. "They used some sort of tiny spy camera, very sophisticated." His voice sounded sorrowful, regretful.

She shook his hand off her arm. "Don't," she said in that same, soft voice. "Please don't touch me.

"So you didn't record it on purpose?" she asked. She didn't know why she cared. The tape wasn't the important part.

He shook his head, feeling like his head was spinning, like he was actually losing his mind as he spoke to Jane, the most important person in his life.

He'd been with someone else, Jane thought sadly. He'd held someone else in his arms, maybe even whispered that he loved her. Or maybe he didn't even know her name.

She turned to look out the window. They were passing the ice cream parlor that had been so controversial once upon a time.

"What do you want?" Jane asked. Charlie could see her face reflected in the window, the sea-glass eyes wide with shock. "Why did you come?"

He reached out to stroke the back of her head. She ducked away from his hand. "I asked you not to touch me," she said.

"I came to see if you were okay," he said gently. "I wanted to get you out of there before the news broke, if possible, though I've failed parlously at that, it seems." He reached out to touch her again but pulled back, she saw through the reflection of the window. "Your life's going to be a mess, such a mess, and I wanted--I wanted to say how sorry I am for--"

"I want to go home," she interrupted. She turned to him, and his heart broke at the hurt he saw in her sea glass eyes. "Can you take me home, please?" she asked.

He nodded, swallowing. He lowered the screen but hesitated before speaking to Tony. He turned back to Jane apologetically.

"I don't know where you live," he said, embarrassed.

Jane thought about this, and it almost made her laugh. This boy, that she thought she was so close to, that she thought she was more intimate with than anyone else on earth, didn't even know her fucking address.

She leaned forward and gave Tony directions before raising the screen again. Charlie remembered how much pleasure raising and lowering it had given Jane the first time, and wanted to cry.

They were silent for the short drive through Redmond, and she turned to Charlie when they pulled up at her house.

"I'm curious, Charlie," she asked, breaking his heart at how distant, how formal her voice sounded. "Why do you think my life's going to be a mess? I mean, my name will only come up if you bring it up, right?"

"Jane, I say your name on the tape," Charlie said, surprise making him blunt. "More than once, if I'm not mistaken."

He'd talked about her?

Jane didn't think she could feel any more humiliated and awful in front of this person she thought loved her, this person she loved still.

"Why?" she gasped. "Why would you do that to me?" And the storm she'd hoped to have in private happened, and she began to cry. "How could you, Charlie?"

Charlie was staring at her in alarm and concern. "What are you talking about? I told you I didn't know we were being recorded! They put some kind of tiny camera right there," and he gestured to the mesh holders that were hung over the backs of the front seats. "I mean, it was nighttime, dark in the car, and we were pretty distracted, I think you'll agree--" He broke off at the look on Jane's face.

"What?" Her face was ashen, her lips nearly blue, as the beginning of comprehension dawned on her.

And in a flash Charlie understood everything, the colossal misunderstanding which had occurred between them. His brows drew together and he fought the urge to cry, cry like the beautiful, vulnerable, weeping girl in front of him.

"Oh god, oh fuck, Jane, I thought you'd seen it, I thought you knew. The girl on the tape is you."