Chapter 90 V

Chapter 90 V
The video is eleven seconds long. Brianna shoves me. I shove back. Someone cropped it to start right at my hand, no context before, none after.

By lunch, the caption reads unhinged.

By the end of the day, local sports news has it, tagged with Caleb's name because apparently that's all it takes to make something news now.

I scroll the comments anyway, which is stupid, because someone's already found my mom's name. Someone's found the diner. The internet doesn't care Brianna started it. It just wants a villain, and today that's me.

Caleb finds me in the guidance counselor's waiting area, knee bouncing, phone face down in my lap.

He sits down close. "I already talked to the principal. Showed her three months of messages Brianna's sent me. Dating back before any of this."

"You didn't have to do that."

Plain, like that's the whole explanation. "Didn't do it to save you. Did it because it's true. She's been doing this before you were even part of the story."

The meeting goes fine. Brianna's suspended by end of day. I should feel relieved. Mostly I just feel wrung out.

"You can't keep stepping in like this," I say once we're alone in the hallway.

His voice stays even. "Not trying to handle your life. Trying to make sure you're not carrying every single thing alone. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"There is when the person doing it actually cares whether you're okay."

That quiets me enough that I let him walk me to my locker instead.

Chloe finds me before last bell, jaw tight. "I saw the comments. About your mom. The diner."

"Saw them too."

"Want me to report them? I already reported like six."

"Won't change much. There's always more."

"Doesn't mean you should just accept it."

I close my locker harder than I mean to. "Not accepting it. Surviving it. Just don't have the energy to fight every single one today."

"Fair." She threads her arm through mine. "I'll walk you home. Least I can do."

We don't talk much the whole way, cold cutting through my jacket, the video and the comments tangled up in my head by the time we reach my building.

She pauses at the door. "Text me when you're settled. I mean it."

"I will."

She heads off. I climb the stairs alone, phone buzzing before I even get my key in the lock.

You okay? Caleb's text reads.

Getting there.

I meant what I said. About not wanting you to carry this alone.

I know. Still figuring out how to let that be true.

Fair. Take whatever time you need.

Inside, my mom's light is already off. I sit at the kitchen table a long while, the video looping somewhere out there without me, trying to remember what it felt like before the internet cared who I was.

She finds me an hour later, robe pulled tight.

"You're up late."

"Rough day."

She sits across from me slowly. "Danny showed me some of it. None of what they're saying is true, you know."

"I know."

"Doesn't make it easier to read."

"No. It doesn't."

She reaches across the table, same as always, and we sit there a while, the video still out there doing whatever damage it's going to do, but for the moment it doesn't feel like the only thing that matters.

Danny wanders in for water, half asleep, hair sticking up on one side.

"You guys are being quiet. Is it the video thing?"

"You saw it too?"

He shrugs. "Everyone did. Some kid showed me at lunch like it was breaking news. Told him it was garbage editing. Cut wrong on purpose."

"Thanks, Danny."

He grabs his water, pauses at the doorway. "Don't mention it. You okay, though? Actually okay?"

"Getting there."

"Good. Caleb better be handling this right or I'm telling him off myself."

"He's handling it fine."

He disappears down the hall. My mom laughs quietly, the first real laugh all evening.

"He adores you. In his own twelve-year-old way."

"I know."

She squeezes my hand and stands. "Just like that boy of yours adores you in his own complicated way. Get some sleep. Tomorrow the internet will have already moved on to some other disaster."

I sit at the table a while longer after she goes to bed, the video and the comments and the whole exhausting day finally starting to feel survivable.

By morning, someone's posted a correction. Small, quiet, but there. Chloe forwards it before I'm even out of bed.

Small win. Take it.

I'll take it.

I get dressed slow, replay the whole thing once more before deciding to let it go, the way Chloe keeps telling me to. The hallway feels almost normal by the time I get to school. A few curious glances, nothing like yesterday.

Eli finds me at my locker, unusually serious.

"Heard about the video. That's messed up, what they did with the editing."

"Thanks for saying that."

He shifts his bag. "Anyone who knows you knows that's not who you are. Chloe's been worried about you, in case you didn't notice."

"I noticed. She's been amazing through all of it."

He almost smiles. "She usually is. Good people around you, Mia. Whatever the internet decides."

At lunch, Chloe's phone is notably absent for once.

"No phone today?"

She grins. "We both needed a break from screens. How are you feeling? Actually feeling."

"Lighter. Better."

"Good. That's all I wanted to hear." She reaches over and takes a fry straight off my plate, same as always, and today finally feels like an ordinary Tuesday again, first time since the video appeared.

Derek corners me by the gym doors before last period, phone already out.

"Sponsors love the press conference clip. Real bump in merchandise numbers already."

"Not really my business, Derek."

"About to be. There's talk of a joint interview. Bigger outlet this time."

"Already told Caleb no."

He almost smiles, which surprises me more than anything else today. "Figured you would. Can't say I'm not disappointed. But I respect it."

He walks off before I can respond, leaving me standing there wondering how much of this arrangement stopped being just about Caleb and started being about me too, whether I asked for that or not.

Chloe catches up at my locker after last bell. "You look like you're doing math in your head again."

"Derek wants a bigger interview. I said no."

"Good." She bumps her shoulder against mine. "You don't owe anyone more of yourself than you've already agreed to. Besides, the internet already has more than enough to speculate about."

"Don't remind me."

"I'm just saying. Whatever this turns into, it doesn't have to be a headline every single week."

"I know."

She studies me a second. "Do you, though? Because you've been living like every part of your life is public property since this whole thing started."

I don't have a quick answer for that, so I let her steer the conversation toward something easier the rest of the walk home, glad, same as always, that she knows exactly when to let a thing rest.

We stop at the corner store for slushies, same as we used to freshman year before either of us had jobs or boyfriends or contracts eating up all our free time.

"Remember when the biggest problem in our lives was whether Mr. Patterson would notice we skipped his pop quiz?" Chloe hands me my cup.

"Feels like a different lifetime."

She takes a long sip. "It basically was. You've grown up a lot this year, Mia. Not just because you had to. Because you chose to, even when it would've been easier not to."

"That's oddly sentimental for you."

She bumps my shoulder as we walk. "I have my moments. For what it's worth, whatever happens with the internet or Brianna or any of it, I'm proud of who you've become through all this mess."

I don't have anything clever to add, so I just let the sentiment sit there, unchallenged, the slushie cold in my hand and the whole exhausting week finally starting to feel like something worth having survived.