Chapter 6

Greg sat in the office, looking stern. "There've been some nasty rumors about you going around school lately, but we'll set that aside for now because those videos are obviously fake. You joke around a lot, but your grades have always been excellent. I really don't understand why you'd want to throw your future away like this."

As he spoke, he pulled up Gemma's college application forms on the computer. "I remember you originally picked nothing but top universities. Why have they all been changed to a bunch of bottom-of-the-barrel schools? And now the deadline's passed. What were you thinking?"

Gemma glanced calmly at the screen. Her password was Harry's birthday, and only he knew that. This was probably just another way he'd found to make Rachel happy.

She'd spent three years forcing herself to become the funny girl who could always make Harry laugh. But the second she was gone for a week, he'd turned her into a party trick for someone else.

But she didn't care anymore.

Greg was still earnestly trying to come up with ways to help her fix things.

"Mr. Black," she suddenly said, her voice frighteningly hoarse. "I'm not taking the college entrance exam."

The next second, a familiar voice came from the doorway. "If you're not taking the exam, then what are you planning to do? Go straight to working a blue-collar job?"

Harry let out a mocking snort, handed Greg a workbook, and walked away without another glance.

Ten minutes later, Gemma left the office, too.

Wherever she walked, the whispers and snide comments followed, but she didn't seem to hear a thing. She moved like a soulless zombie, her eyes empty and her face blank.

Even when Rachel deliberately stood in her way, she simply walked around her. She planned to go back to class, pack up all her things, and then wait to move overseas. She wasn't coming back to school anymore.

But her indifference only pissed Rachel off.

"What are you acting all high-and-mighty for, Gemma? I told you to give me that beaded bracelet that matches Harry's. Are you deaf?" Blazing with anger, Rachel grabbed a water bottle on the desk and slammed it against Gemma's head.

The wound Harry had caused when he shoved Gemma had only just scabbed over. Now, it split open again. Fresh blood streaked down her pale face and dripped onto her black clothes.

The classroom fell into dead silence.

Harry appeared in the doorway with a basketball in hand. The moment he sensed something was wrong, he rushed inside and immediately stepped in front of Rachel. Without even asking what had happened, he launched straight into chewing Gemma out.

"What are you making a scene about now, Gemma?"

Making a scene? She no longer had the strength for that.

Gemma calmly raised a hand and wiped the blood from her face. Then she reached into her pocket, took out the beaded bracelet, and set it down on the desk.

That bracelet was part of a matching pair she and Harry had gotten blessed at a chapel when they were eight, during a trip both families had taken together. Even if Rachel hadn't come to snatch it, she hadn't planned on keeping it.

She put the last of her books into her backpack, stepped around the people blocking her way, and walked straight out. She didn't say a single word the whole time.

Harry was taken aback. Gemma had always had an endless supply of jokes when she was around him, and she always had a smile on her face. When had she become so… quiet?

But a second later, he decided this was just another one of her tricks to play hard to get. Too bad he wasn't buying it.

…

There were 48 hours left until the exam. The class group chat wouldn't shut up. The get-together Rachel had organized had officially kicked off.

Gemma didn't go. Instead, she went through the house and wiped every trace that belonged to her and Melinda.

While she was at it, Rachel kept spamming her with taunting messages. At one point, she even threw a blown-up photo of Gemma being forced to dress ugly onto the restaurant's big screen. Gemma glanced at it, then deleted it without a second thought.

Harry, surprisingly, also texted her. "Gemma, the whole class is here. Quit acting like you're all special and get over here."

She didn't reply—not that she could. It seemed he'd forgotten that he'd blocked her messages.

…

There were 24 hours left until the exam.

Gemma lay on her bed. Her social feed was basically taken over by Rachel's posts. Every update came with a grid of nine photos, and Harry was in each picture.

Out of nowhere, Gemma remembered she'd taken a photo of Harry once too. It had been on a Polaroid. She'd held the photo out to him with a goofy grin. "You've gotta take tons of pictures when you're young. That way, when you're 80, you can still use them to catfish people online!"

Back then, Harry had ripped the photo up impatiently and tossed the pieces straight into the trash. "I don't like taking pictures."

It turned out he didn't hate taking pictures. He just didn't like her.

This one-sided crush, which had started who-knows-how many years ago, ended with her losing miserably.

…

On the day of the exam, Gemma received a video and a long document. Her eyes, which had been dull and lifeless for days, finally flickered with emotion again.

Her breathing turned shallow, her eyes burned, and the hand gripping her phone wouldn't stop shaking. Forcing herself to shove the roiling emotions back down, she quickly typed out a reply to that number.

"Get in touch with a lawyer. File the lawsuit immediately."

She was going to make the people who'd killed Melinda pay.

When the plane took off, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She didn't look back at the city even once.