The very next morning, Zac's gut-wrenching post had reached the eyeballs of pretty much every student and faculty member on campus. Their responses ranged from unabashed intrigue to outcries of complete and utter disgust. Trick became Public Enemy No. 1. Like bees to honey, my classmates buzzed around Zac throughout second hour.

It felt like a scene from a satirical comedy. Everyone was playing dumb. Pretending not to know how bad Trick's bullying had been. They grossly overcompensated by blustering on and on about how much they hated Trick's guts. Zac played along, of course, shamelessly soaking up their sympathetic gazes and words of admiration like a desert basking in a rainstorm.

I thought of Dr. Williams. Not a single one of them had afforded her this much attention or care after Brit's racist texts exploded on Sassy. The discrepancy made my chest feel a bit heavy.

After second hour ended, quite a few freshmen and sophomore girls were waiting outside of Tilton's classroom for Zac. They used the scandal as an excuse to approach him, offering their condolences while twirling their hair and touching his biceps flirtatiously. Shaking my head at them, partly in amusement, partly in disapproval, I headed towards the music building for concert orchestra. I passed by more students huddled in the hallways. They seemed reluctant to go to class. Bits and pieces from their conversations started floating in and out of my ears.

"Fuckin' Patrick Hayes!" exclaimed a junior cellist named Diana Warren. "I swear, if it wasn't for his mom's endowments to the school—that sociopath would be in juvie by now!"

"I know, right? Patrick should have been expelled years ago," a senior flutist, Hailey-Anne Parker, said with a disgusted eye roll. "He's the equivalent of human garb—"

They paused as they noticed me walk by. I smiled tritely.

"No need to stop on my account, girls," I reassured them. "Trust me, I'm not happy about sharing DNA with him, either."

They laughed awkwardly. I left without another word. Girls like Diana and Hailey-Anne were the least of my concerns at the moment. I was more worried about Trick. On good days, my half-brother had the self-control of a five-year-old, and today was his first day back on campus under very hostile circumstances. He was bound to do something stupid.

After I got home yesterday, I told him to ignore my text and warned him about the new anonymous post on Sassy. The idiot decided to come to school, anyway. Trick had been out for blood, but his rage against Zac quickly shriveled up once he realized the entire school had turned against him. It seemed the turning tide of public opinion was the only way to drown out Trick's monstrous tendencies.

As luck would have it, I ran into Trick on the way to class. He pulled me into an empty corridor. My half-brother was pissed that he couldn't go after Zac without catching more heat from our peers, so he decided to take it out on me instead. He shoved me against a brick wall. I shoved him back. We proceeded to cuss each other out before he stormed away in a huff.

My shoulder still a bit tender in third hour, but I took it all in stride. Trick had never really been on the receiving end of this much harassment before. The sisterly side of me tried to summon up a microscopic ounce of empathy for him, but it never came. I was a petty bitch. A stronger and much more cynical emotion took over. I felt completely justified in watching him suffer under the weight of everyone's scrutiny. I enjoyed it, actually.

His nasty behavior towards me and his other victims had mellowed over the years, but this sudden trial by peers seemed a fitting retribution for a dickhead like him. It wasn't like admin was going to be handing out retroactive consequences at this point. Thanks to his mom and her sizable contributions to the school, Trick had rarely been disciplined for the bulk of his past wrongdoings. Aside from detentions, which were mere slaps on the wrist, really, Principal Pratt had only suspended him a whopping total of two times, once in sixth grade and another in seventh, over countless skirmishes with Zac and the other kids he had tormented.

As Ashton Wellesley fell into a frenzy over Zac and Trick, I sat back once more and watched the shitshow unfold, silently judging everyone from the sidelines for jumping on Zac's bandwagon about four years too late and mulling over my own complicity in the matter. I should've done more back then as well. I had no reason to feel as shitty about it as I did, it wasn't like I was Trick's keeper, I had even been one of his victims growing up, but the guilt ate at me all the same. I wish I had stood up for Zac more than once. I remembered that day pretty well. Trick had been acting like a total sadist, and my conscience refused to stand by and let him have his way with Zac. Yet, afterewards, I simply moved on and forgot about Zac and his continued suffering under Trick's cruelty.

At the administrative level, things weren't looking so hot for Principal Pratt. The insane amount of pressure parents piled on him was exploding through the roof. They wanted him to find the hacker and upgrade the school's security systems. Whispers of his impending resignation began circulating on campus, and Hunter lost a significant amount of his usual swagger. He roamed the hallways like a whipped puppy dog. Even Frankie stopped talking to him.

After third hour, I met Amari and Nat in the campus cafeteria for lunch. Like everyone else at Ashton Wellesley, my friends totally bought into Zac's ruse, and, after a sleepless night of tossing and turning over whether or not I should tell them the truth, I had finally settled on not saying anything.

I don't know what compelled me to take Zac's side over my friends in this matter. Probably the same part that felt vindicated by Trick's current ousting at school. I couldn't help thinking Zac was owed a taste of vengeance. I knew firsthand what it felt like to live with monsters at home, and Zac had suffered far worse than anything I ever experienced with Trick or Bea. As long as the guy didn't take things too far, I resolved to look the other way.

My friends and I got in line to get our food at the cafeteria.

Nat squeezed her eyes shut and exclaimed, "I feel so bad! I can't believe we all thought Zac was Anonymous!"

Shaking her head in self-loathing, Amari echoed Nat's opinion, "Seriously! We're the worst. Babyboy must be so fucking triggered right now. I can't imagine having such horrible things posted for the entire student body to see. Talk about a recipe for PTSD."

I nodded in agreement and purposely distanced myself from their conversation by focusing all my attention on the day's lunch menu.

Cacio e pepe pasta or California rolls?

Maybe with some miso soup and a kale salad on the side?

Amari turned to me. "Cate, did you ever get a chance to talk to Zac? How's the poor guy doing? I hope you weren't too hard on him, I know how you can get a bit, ah... passionate... at times when you feel strongly about something."

"We never got a chance to chat about Brit or the first anonymous Sassy post," I fibbed. "However, I managed to convince him to work on the project with me yesterday. We were surprisingly productive."

Nat's blue eyes widened. "How the hell did you pull that off?"

My mouth flattened grimly. "It wasn't easy, but let's just say that the boy responds well to threats."

Amari's brow creased. "Wait, if you were busy with Zac yesterday, then who delivered the notes and cards to Dr. Williams?"

I reassured her, "Don't worry, we dropped them off before going to the library."

Both of my friends squealed with excitement, "We? You mean, Zac went with you to meet up with Dr. Williams?"

Shit, I hadn't meant to let that part slip out!

I inwardly facepalmed myself. "Keep your panties on, girls, he only offered to drive because he didn't want to wait around for me to come back to campus."

They gasped in delight, "He offered to drive?"

"Goddamnit, you two! Stop it."

"Oh, my God, did you get to lick his tattoos?"

"And touch his piercings? I hear that it feels really good when a guy with a tongue piercing goes down—"

"That's enough, Riri," I scolded. "Don't be gross! The dude has swapped spit with Brit, who in turn has swapped spit with Trick, so, if we ever ended up kissing, then it would be, like, two steps away from incest!"

Amari wiggled her eyebrows. "So, you admit, you've thought about kissing the guy."

Nat giggled mischievously. "I bet she's thought about more than kissing. I bet she wants to jump his bon—"

My cheeks burned bright red, and I stuck two fingers into my ears to block out their teasing. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! La-la-la-la! I can't hear you!"

Amari started cackling, and Nat snorted and wheezed in amusement. I glared at both of them with my ears still plugged, but it only seemed to send them off into another round of hysterics.