“You didn’t know what?” Macon asked, glaring still.

Macy stood frozen. If only she could just melt into Derrick’s arms. “What didn’t you know?” she whispered.

“I didn’t know…that Macon had done so many things to you.” Derrick said.

But Macon interrupted, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never said anything about anything I’ve ever done to Macy. I haven’t done anything to Macy.”

“Liar.” Macy spat.

“No. Then again, we could always talk to Shane to fix this mess.” Macon suggested.

“The only mess here is you.” Macy continued, “I wish you were dead.”

“Oh harsh. I wish you were too, oh wait, didn’t Shane almost do that anyway?”

Macy flinched and hissed, “That was you.”

Macon suddenly stepped forward and looked her in the eye. “Was it?” he asked, “Was it me who beat you up everytime you talked to guys? Was it me who attacked you in the hall? Was it me who did all those things to you? Was it?” Macon smiled wickedly and Macy flinched again. “So Macy, tell me. Was it really me?”