Everyone on the stage gasped. Samantha, who was sitting on the sidelines, leapt to her feet. “This is inappropriate. I think you should leave.”
“What about freedom of speech?” Dominick protested.
Samantha’s eyes blazed. “We’re trying to help people get through terrible ordeals. What we don’t need is someone invalidating their feelings.”
“Wah, wah, wah.” Dominick simpered, rolling his eyes.
“That’s it.” Samantha signaled to a man Spencer hadn’t noticed in the corner, and he swept forward, pushing into the aisle and taking Dominick’s arm. Everyone watched as the guard pulled Dominick up the aisle and out the exit.
Just before the door closed, Dominick turned around and glared at Spencer—and only Spencer. “I hope you’re happy, little liar,” he said ominously.
Spencer flinched. “Hey,” Greg said gruffly, leaping up. He looked like he was about to jump off the stage, but Jamie waved at him to sit back down.
“Sorry about that, folks,” Samantha said after the door slammed shut. “I guess it shows that bullies are everywhere, huh?” She chuckled uncomfortably. “Let’s get back on track, shall we? We’ll edit all that out.”
Spencer was able to finish the video, even staying focused, but she had to hide her shaking hands under her thighs. She could feel Greg sneaking peeks at her, and she kept a smile pasted on her face.
After another half hour, Jamie signaled for the cameras to stop. He beamed at the panel. “You guys were amazing. I think we have everything we need and more.”
“Celebratory party at Heartland Brewery!” Samantha crowed happily, bursting into applause. “You all deserve it!” She glanced at the audience. “You all are welcome, too.”
Spencer stood and followed the others off the stage. Greg caught her arm on the way to the green room. “You going to the party?” he asked.
Heartland Brewery, Spencer had heard, was where all the Saturday Night Live cast members had their after-parties. But when she thought about attending a party, her heart started to pound. Dominick had unsteadied her. She didn’t want to be in a crowd.
Greg cocked his head, studying her. “Or we could go somewhere quieter?” he suggested. “I know a great coffee place in the Village. It’s only a subway ride away.”
“That sounds perfect,” Spencer breathed. This Greg was the same as the guy from the emails: intuitive, sympathetic, and understanding of just what she wanted without her having to explain a thing.
Which was exactly what she needed.
They descended the concrete stairs below the huge office building to the subway station. As they walked through a tunnel toward the F train, Spencer kept trying to think of something to say to Greg, but all she could think about was Dominick. Greg had called up and gotten into the audience easily; clearly, Dominick had, too. But why? Expressly to yell at Spencer? To humiliate her?
“So was that guy an ex or something?” Greg asked as he bought them both MetroCards.
Spencer’s head swung up. It was stupid to play dumb; the stress from Dominick was probably obvious on her face. “His name is Dominick. I only know him from my blog—he has it out for me for some reason. I don’t know why. Some people are just haters.”
Greg walked toward the stairs leading to the downtown platform. “Well, try to forget about him. You did a great job tonight. You’re so comfortable on camera.”
“Well, I’ve been interviewed enough times that I’m used to it,” Spencer said, laughing bashfully.
They stepped onto the downtown platform. A sign said that the local train, which they were waiting for, would pull in on one track, and the express train would arrive on another. At the moment, there was no train on either track. The uptown trains were across the platform, separated by a bunch of steel beams and dangerous-looking rails. For the most part, the platforms were desolate, with only a few people wandering up and down, wearing earbuds or scrolling through their phones. Spencer began to pace the length of the station, gazing at the posters on the walls. There was one for a new HBO drama series coming out; someone had blacked out the main actress’s teeth and given her devil horns.
Then she looked at Greg, realizing something. “How do you know about this place in the Village, anyway? I thought you lived in Delaware.”
Greg nodded. “My parents divorced when I was seven, and my dad moved here. I visited sometimes.”
“That must have been fun.”
He shifted his jaw. “I was really sporty growing up, so usually I was pissed that I was missing football practice. For a long time, I didn’t appreciate what the city had to offer. And I hated my dad’s new wife. Cindy.”
Spencer rolled her eyes. “My parents split up, too. But my stepdad is okay. Maybe it’s easier because I’m older.”
“Maybe.” Greg stared blankly at the subway tracks. Spencer hated looking there for fear she’d see a rat. “Cindy used to bully me, actually.”
“Your stepmom?” Spencer blurted. “How?”
Greg raised one shoulder. “She was insulting and manipulative. But she was sly about it—she acted like she loved me whenever my dad was around, and she denied it whenever I told him she’d been mean. No one believed me.”
“That’s awful,” Spencer whispered, feeling a tug in her heart. “What did you do?”
Greg shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just . . . took it, for a while. And then, when I had a say, I told the court that I didn’t want to visit my dad anymore. I was an idiot, though—I didn’t tell the court what Cindy was doing. I thought it would shatter my dad—they would have investigated her and him. But he found out eventually—Cindy drunkenly confessed everything shortly before she left him. He apologized up and down, but it was too little, too late.” He shuffled his feet. “I always say I stood by and watched other kids get bullied, but it’s not the truth. I’m too embarrassed to tell my story. She was, like, half my size. And old.”