The next day at school, as I walked through the hallway, all eyes turned to me. Whispers floated around, and students pointed some hiding behind their phones, others not bothering to hide their stares.
My stomach twisted. What the hell is going on?
When I reached my locker, I nervously checked my reflection in the small mirror stuck to the door. No lipstick on my teeth. No wardrobe malfunction. My makeup was subtle, not overdone. I looked fine. So… why was everyone looking at me like that?
Then my phone buzzed, again. A flood of notifications from group chats and the school gossip site.
I frowned. "What's happening?" I muttered, unlocking my phone.
My heart dropped. Right there, in the group chat, was a video, the video. The one Pink took the night I got drunk. The one she promised she deleted. The one she swore she'd never post.
But now it was everywhere.
My cheeks burned with shame. Laughter echoed around me. I didn't need to look up to know they were laughing at me. Pointing fingers.
Humiliated, I turned on my heel and rushed down the hall. I couldn't face anyone. Not like this.
I hid in the janitor's closet until the hallways emptied. When the final bell rang, I crept out and slipped back to the locker room where I took out my bag. I wanted to go back to the hostel, hoping to confront Pink. But she hadn't even come home last night.
So, I waited.
I couldn't bring myself to go to class. The thought of walking into that room, of sitting beneath those buzzing fluorescent lights while everyone stared, pretending not to whisper about me behind their notebooks, it was too much. My legs felt too heavy, my chest too tight.
So I wandered back and forth, up one hallway, down another.
My footsteps echoed against the linoleum floors, mingling with the distant hum of class in session. Occasionally, I caught the muffled sound of laughter spilling out from behind closed doors, and every time, I flinched.
I was rounding the corner near the old trophy case for the third time when I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned just in time to see Mr. Henzel approaching. He was well-dressed in a blue suite with matching trousers. His hands were folded behind his back in his usual calm-professor stance, and his sharp eyes flicked over me with quiet calculation.
"Miss Tunes," he said smoothly. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
I froze.
For a split second, I considered pretending I hadn't heard him, just walking away like some rebellious phantom in the halls. But that wasn't me. Not really.
I straightened a little and turned to face him fully.
"I wasn't feeling well," I murmured, avoiding his gaze.
He arched an eyebrow. "Really, last I checked this isn't the route to the nurse's office."
My lips pressed into a thin line.
He studied me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he sighed and stepped closer.
"Look," he said, his voice lowering to something less formal, "I may not understand everything that happens in your world, Miss Tunes. But I'm not blind."
I blinked, heart skipping.
"I saw the video," he added simply. "And I've seen what happens when students forget kindness and choose cruelty instead."
My throat tightened.
"I didn't know she'd post it," I whispered, barely audible. "She promised…"
"I believe you," he said, and something in his voice made me actually look at him for the first time.
"We all make mistakes," he continued. "But what matters more is how we face them."
I didn't know what to say. A lump had formed in my chest, hot and heavy.
"Now go back to class, I don't want you wandering round the hall doing nothing"
I signed and sluggishlymade my way towards class A4.
...
When school ended and the crowd thinned, I made my way to the basketball court where the cheer squad usually hung out. Sure enough, there she was, Pink, lounging on the bleachers with a smug smirk, lazily twirling a pink lollipop between her lips. Clary was beside her, and Eska sat just a bit further, looking uncomfortable.
"Pink!" I called out, my voice shaking with anger. I stormed toward her, holding out my phone. "What the hell is this?!"
She looked up slowly, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Oh, that," she said, smirking. "Finally saw it, huh?"
"You said you deleted it," I hissed. "You promised!"
She licked the lollipop, then shrugged. "I'd say it's what you deserve, bitch."
My heart clenched. "If this is about what happened Saturday night… I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to..."
"Oh please," she scoffed, laughing bitterly.
Eska stood. "Pink, that's not cool. You promised. Even if you hate her now, you gave your word."
Pink pulled the lollipop from her mouth and turned to Eska, eyes cold. "Did I ask for your opinion?"
Eska opened her mouth to argue, but Pink raised a hand, silencing her.
"Unless you want your nudes floating around next, I suggest you shut the hell up."
Then she turned to me, eyes sharp. "And you? This is only the beginning." She stood and walked off, Clary trailing close behind like a shadow.
I stood there, heart pounding, trying desperately to keep my tears from falling. Eska looked at me with no readable expression. Summer hovered silently in the background.
It's happening all over again.
...
The next day, I stayed in the library, hiding behind tinted glasses and a face cap. The thought of walking through those halls again made me sick. I just wanted to disappear.
I stared blankly at my phone screen, scrolling through gossip threads. The comments stung.
Has Jesse seen the video? Oh God…
I buried my face in my hands. What do I even do? How do I fix this?
Part of me thought maybe Jesse could talk to Pink, help her understand. She still liked him, right? But he wouldn't.
Gosh, this is frustrating.
By the time recess came, I stood and stretched. I couldn't eat in the cafeteria, no way I was facing those people. I'd brought lunch from outside, so I decided to eat by the basketball court where it was quiet.
As I was about leaving the library, I spotted Zack. He was sitting alone at the far end, slouched over a thick textbook he clearly wasn't reading. One hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles pale, while the other idly turned the same page over and over. His hoodie was pulled halfway over his head, casting a shadow across his face, but I could still see the tension in his jaw. The sadness in his eyes.
My heart sank.
Guilt hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd hurt him.
I should talk to him, explain everything but I hesitated behind a row of bookshelves, chewing the inside of my cheek. Maybe he didn't want to see me. Maybe I should just go. But part of me, maybe the braver or dumber part knew I had to try.
I stepped out and made my way toward him, my legs suddenly unsteady but he didn't look up.
"Hey, Zack," I said softly, forcing a small wave.
His eyes flicked toward me for the briefest moment.
"Hey," he replied, voice flat and guarded.
I shifted from foot to foot. "Erm… can I sit?"
Without lifting his head, he gestured to the seat across from him. "Suit yourself."
I sank into the chair slowly, careful not to make noise. My heart thudded so loud I was sure he could hear it. My mouth felt dry.
"I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "For that night. I didn't mean to hurt you. It wasn't…"
"What are you babbling about, Terra?" he interrupted, voice sharp, sharper than I'd ever heard it. There was no kindness, no patience. Just a brittle, angry edge.
I blinked, startled. Zack was never like this.
He sat up straighter now, his expression hard. "What exactly are you apologizing for? For ditching me? Or for making out with my brother?"
I felt the words like a slap. My stomach churned.
So… he knew.
Of course he did. Pink probably told him. Maybe with extra details.
"Both," I whispered, staring down at the wood grain of the table. "I'm really sorry, Zack. I didn't mean for any of it to happen. It's just…"
"Save it," he said, cutting me off again, his voice cold. "I don't want to hear it. Just leave me alone."
The silence between us stretched like a wire about to snap.
"Zack, please," I said again, my throat tightening. "I'm sorry..."
"I'm sorry too," he muttered, standing abruptly and shoving his textbook under his arm. His voice was laced with bitterness. "Sorry I ever thought you were different."
He turned and walked away, never once looking back.
I sat frozen for a long time, staring at the empty seat he'd left behind. Then the tears camein hot, fast, and unwelcome. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my hoodie before anyone could see.
But they wouldn't stop.
I didn't move for the rest of lunch. Just sat there, hollowed out and aching, in the quietest corner of the library.
And somehow… that silence was louder than the laughter in the halls.
This week had been the worst of my life. I stopped going to class. At first, I told myself it was temporary. Just a few days to breathe, to avoid the stares and whispers and stifled laughter behind locker doors. I convinced myself it would pass. That the video would fade like a bad dream if I just stayed quiet long enough.
But just when the edges of the chaos started to blur, when I could almost pretend I was healing, a new bomb dropped.
A photo of the kiss surfaced, frozen in time. His face partially turned, mine too close, too desperate. Taken at the worst possible angle.
The new story was uglier than before.
'I was forcing myself on Jesse.'
The bullying got worse. Slut-shaming, threats from jealous girls, anonymous DMs…
"You should be expelled."
"He never wanted you."
"Watch your back."
Girls I'd never spoken to glared at me in the hallways. Some laughed. Others looked at me with disgust, like I was something you scraped off your shoe. It felt like drowning with no surface in sight. It was overwhelming. And relentless. And no one reached out. Not Pink. Not Clary. Not even Jesse.
Then, on a gray Thursday morning, I felt it the moment I stepped through the school's front doors, something was off.
Then One morning, something felt off the moment I stepped into school. Whispers followed me down the hallway like shadows, but I was getting used to that by now.
Lockers clanged open and shut. Shoes squeaked down the tiled floor. And yet, somehow, every sound seemed to pause when I walked by.
I didn't get far before the intercom crackled to life.
"Terra Tunes, please report to the principal's office immediately."
Every pair of eyes in the hall turned to me like I was some kind of freak show exhibit. My breath caught. My stomach twisted into knots.
I walked the hallway in slow, dragging steps, each footfall echoing louder than the last. My pulse hammered in my ears. By the time I reached the front office, I felt like my body was moving without me.
Principal Adams was waiting. She didn't offer a smile, her expression was the kind of composed concern adults use when they're about to deliver bad news or when they've already decided something for your own good.
"Ms. Tunes," she began, her tone clipped and professional, "We're aware there are... several rumors involving you circulating throughout the student body."
"They're just rumors," I said quickly, swallowing hard. ""None of it's true. That's not what happened."
"I understand," she replied, folding her hands on her desk like she was saying a prayer. "But perception is powerful, Terra. And the perception right now is... troubling. For the school. For your peers. For the overall learning environment."
I stared at her. I could feel the blood draining from my face, my legs shaking.
"I'm suspending you. Two weeks. Effective immediately."
The words hit like a slap.
"What? No. You can't do this," I said, my voice cracking with disbelief.
"I am doing this," she said, softer now. "And trust me, it's a favor. Take this time to breathe. Step away. Let everything settle. Rethink a few things... before something worse happens."
"But I didn't do anything wrong."
"Maybe not. But right now, you're a disruption. This is a cooling-off period. A chance for things to settle."
I blinked, stunned. "You're punishing me for being harassed."
She didn't respond. Instead, she gave me a look, something almost pitying, but not quite.
I turned and walked out of her office like a ghost, numb and untethered. No one looked up when I passed. No one said a word
At my locker, I moved mechanically, spinning the dial, grabbing my bag, closing it shut with a hollow click. The walls seemed to lean inward. The fluorescent lights felt too bright. The air too thin.
Maybe she was right, maybe I did need to disappear for a while.
I headed back to the hostel, packed the little I had, and left without saying a word. Not to Pink. Not to Clary. Not to anyone.
And just like that, I was leaving Caveroop behind.
I never thought I'd be going back to Oxville. I swore I'd left that town in the rearview mirror of my life.
But maybe… just maybe, it's time to go home.
To where it all started.
To where everything I've been running from still waits in the dark.
At least I'll get to see my mom again.
If that even still feels like comfort.