Then another thing strikes me. I look sort of…bored and disengaged. So it wasn’t just me overanalyzing and nitpicking after the fact. He really wasn’t that good in bed, even before Edgar ruined me for other men.
“See?” Aaron says smugly.
“Yeah, I see. So what?”
“It’s a video of you having sex!”
“If you think you can turn me into some kind of puppet with this, you’re wrong. I was born and bred in Los Angeles, and it isn’t like a sex tape is some novelty these days. Nobody hires me for my virginal image. Besides, if you do release this, you’d better leave the country. My brothers and cousins will turn you into ground pork, and Tío Manny will turn that into tacos for his neighbor’s dogs.”
At the same time, a terrible guilt and concern writhe in my chest. My parents could see this. But I can explain that I couldn’t let Aaron blackmail me into marrying him. I want what my parents have—a loving, devoted marriage—and no way am I letting Aaron ruin that for me. Mama and Papa won’t like the situation, but they’ll understand, especially since I’m going to tell them it wasn’t my idea to make the stupid video in the first place.
It’s his. All his. Totally his.
Yeah, but you dated him, so you’re, like…a little bit responsible? Maybe one percent at least?
Shut up.
“And I can sue you for violation of privacy,” I say.
“Go ahead. See if I care. It’ll be too late. I already thought of everything, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. If you serve me with court papers, I’m going to let everyone see it. If you go to the police, same thing.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, so everyone will see it. And that will prove…what? That you suck in bed?”
“What are you talking about?” He flips the phone so the screen’s facing him. His complexion is now more reddish purple. “You’re such a bitch. How did you fake…like you weren’t into me?”
When I roll my eyes this time, I can almost see my hairline. “Aaron, boredom isn’t what women fake in bed. It’s orgasms, and they’re just trying to get you to stop whatever it is you’re doing. Here, I’m not even bothering. It’s really for your own good that you don’t release this thing. I mean, unless you want everyone to know how good you aren’t in bed.”
Now even th
e tips of his ears are scarlet. “Yeah, well… I’m going to anyway, unless you marry me. I have no choice. I’m entitled to the money!”
I shake my head. I’m never dating a guy because of amazing dance moves again.
“And I’ll make it look like your dad sent it to his students. And the loudest, bitchiest mothers in the PTA. I can do that, you know! Make it look like the video came from his email address.”
Hot anger shoots through me, and I finally yank my arm free. “You can’t do that! It’s not possible.”
Aaron can probably guess what my papa’s email address is, but he doesn’t know the password. Or how to access the server.
“Sure I can. Haven’t you gotten spam from your own address telling you to send a couple of Bitcoins unless you want your porn-watching habits to be revealed to everyone on your contact list?”
My body seems to chill a couple of degrees. I have gotten a few of those. The first time it happened, I panicked and called my cousin Diego, who’s an IT consultant. He laughed and told me anybody can mask their email address to look like it came from some other account. He even said it was pretty easy, but the rest of the explanation sort of flew over my head because it was too technical.
But one thing’s for certain—Aaron knows how to do what Diego talked about. And he’s rich enough to hire a PI to get PTA and student email addresses.
“Isn’t your dad up for a teacher of the year award?” Aaron continues. “And retiring soon? Be a shame to go out on that note.”
Papa’s not only dedicated, but spends lots of money and hours of his free time helping his students. If anybody deserves the award, it’s him. Even if the school district can prove that it wasn’t him who sent the video, the publicity could affect the award.
And that’s not all. I’d bet all my Givenchy shoes and dresses that it’d make the news, because some asshole PTA member would go to the media about it instead of waiting for the outcome of the investigation. It’d be deeply humiliating for my parents. High school kids can be insensitive jerks, and the comments and whispers might be too much for Papa to bear, much less angry phone calls and conferences with irate parents and administration.
This is Papa’s last year teaching. He deserves to retire with honor and dignity.
“You are such a dick,” I say, trying not to show my panicked anxiety. I refuse to give Aaron the satisfaction.
“Well, you know. When you give great dick, eventually it just…takes over.” He does a pelvic thrust with a smirk, then straightens. “Look, I’m being nice here.”
“Uh, I don’t think secretly filming someone having sex—or blackmailing them—counts as being… Wait a minute. Did you also record Sonia?”