Chapter 3

3

By the third day, the drama had reached a boiling point.

Sienna's clique began to collectively ice me out. No one in the classroom would speak to me.

It wasn't just cold shoulders; it was that gross kind of bullying where they'd stop talking the moment I walked by, then burst into laughter once I was out of range.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

Braden hadn't moved since I recorded him in physics. He wasn't backing down―he was brewing something bigger.

Friday afternoon during study hall, a row of guys suddenly lined up in the hallway.

Braden was at the front, with six others behind him. He slammed a crumpled flyer onto my desk.

"Everyone knows now, Chloe. You spent the summer at cheap motels with random guys. We even have the security footage photos. Take a look."

I smoothed out the flyer. My face had been photoshopped onto a low-quality security camera still from a hotel lobby I'd never visited.

The "guy" next to me was a complete stranger.

The caption read: "Chloe Miller's wild and trashy summer vacation."

The classroom erupted in a massive roar of laughter.

In my past life, this was the moment I broke.

I had tried to grab the flyers, crying and begging him to stop. He had his friends hold me down while they plastered the hallways with them.

Standing at the end of that hallway, looking at those distorted versions of my face, something inside me had shattered forever.

This time, I looked at the flyer and placed it flat on my desk.

Then, I pulled out my phone.

"You are being recorded."

The 4:00 PM classroom suddenly became as quiet as a vacuum.

"Braden. Using software to create fake, defamatory images of another student is a violation of the school's code of conduct and state law. It falls under cyber-harassment and defamation of character. Keep going. Give me more evidence."

His face turned a sickly shade of purple.

"Also―" I opened a folder on my desk. It contained records of students he had bullied over the last two years. Names, dates, locations, and witnesses.

"Last year, you sent a kid named Derek to the ER with a broken arm. The school hushed it up. I wonder what happens if I upload this entire file to the district's public forum?"

He stopped laughing.

The six guys behind him started looking at their feet. Bullies don't fear their victims―they fear witnesses.

Every one of them realized they could be dragged down with him.

"But I won't upload it yet," I said, closing the folder.

"Because you people are nothing to me. You think you're tough because you harass girls in hallways and vandalize lockers. You think you're powerful."

"But what you do is what toddlers do in a sandbox. Except toddlers get put in time-out for stealing toys. You're seventeen, and you don't even have the courage to stand on your own. You're pathetic, bored, and useless."

I said it all in one breath. I didn't feel angry―I felt incredibly calm.

I sat back down and opened my math textbook. My voice dropped back to its normal volume.

"Now, this is a study hall. Please leave."

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