They Mocked The Wrong Girl

I answered the call, and Wendy screeched, "Are you mad, Emilia?"

I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at myself in the mirror.

"That post is just a joke. They were just trying to liven things up!" she continued, scolding me as though I had done something wrong. "And you commented with your main account? The whole school is raring to see you fail!"

I turned off the faucet and wiped my hands on a towel. "If it really was a joke, why'd you show them my fattest photo back in Grade 11? You know I was taking hormonal drugs back then."

Silence followed, then she pretended to be hurt. "I just want to help you get over it. You've always had low self-esteem, so I thought I'd post the photo. Everyone would laugh, and then it'd be over."

She sighed, as if I was a child who could not understand her kindness. "I was risking my reputation just to help you train your courage, and you're calling me oversensitive?"

I looked at the stains of water on the countertop and said nothing.

"Anyway, now that you've promised everyone, you really do have to give Jonathan that love letter."

I remained silent.

Her voice immediately became more cheerful. "But the university leadership will all be at orientation tomorrow. Confessing publicly like that might make the university look bad."

A pause later, she said, "Jonathan feeds stray cats at Bamboo Park every day at six in the evening. It's a quiet place. You can wait for him there tomorrow. I've asked around. He'll be there."

…

Bamboo Park was situated on low-lying land. Fake mountains and wisteria pergolas surrounded the place. Dozens of people could hide there without being noticed. It was the perfect place for an audience.

"Sure," I said calmly.

"So, that's a yes?" Clearly, she had not expected me to agree so easily. Excitement seeped into her voice. "Don't be late. I worked my butt off to get you this chance."

The call ended. A moment later, a WhatsApp message came in from someone named Claire Everstine. I asked what she wanted. Instead of answering directly, she sent me a dozen screenshots of a group chat.

The chat group was called 'Witness the Heavyset Confession'. Wendy was the admin, and the first snapshot showed me her message. "Done. Bamboo Park, 1800 tomorrow."

The group chat exploded.

Guy A texted, "Wait, Elephant is actually going? Really?"

Girl B texted, "Bamboo Park? That's great! The fake mountain can hide a dozen of us, and the wisteria pergolas are great covers too!"

Wendy's messages came next. "Make sure you get there early and claim your spot. Don't let her notice you."

"And bring your power banks, people. Also, hold your phone firmly when you record anything."

"Make sure you get the part where she cries her heart out after Jonathan refuses her. I want it in Full HD and taken at every angle possible."

As I went through the screenshots, Claire texted me again. "I'm from the class next door, and this just doesn't sit right with me. Don't go. She's going to ruin you in front of everyone."

I stared at that message. I had that same idea a year ago. I had to take hormonal drugs because of a serious illness, and my weight got out of control. Every time I went out, I was the subject of everyone's ridicule.

It was then Wendy became my so-called best friend. She took me everywhere just to act as a foil that made her look better and kinder for everyone else.

I replied, "Thanks, but I'm going anyway."

Claire texted a question mark. I did not explain. Instead, I opened the confession wall again. That post was already on the first page of the campus forum.

Wendy had liked my comment. Beneath it, she had written, "Emilia's so brave. See you at Bamboo Park tomorrow at 6."

She was so eager to announce the time and place, as if she wanted everyone to show up.

I locked my phone, opened up my cabinet, and picked out a regular white tee. My phone lit up again. It was Wendy's message. "Dress for the occasion tomorrow, girl. Don't embarrass me."

I stared at the words. Then, my fingers moved across the keyboard. "See you tomorrow at six."