I'd hugged my arms around myself through the entire evening, as Vicky's father detailed how we were all going to proceed after "Dakota's" article. He was terrifying, with his sharply cut suit and impeccably knotted tie. As he went over just how he was going to serve the school with papers alleging defamation and libel on my behalf, suddenly Victoria's plan seemed like it was spiralling wildly out of control.

You need to stop this, I texted her, my fingers shaking as I typed it out. My father was asking Mr. Carrington whether or not they should be demanding Dakota's expulsion and serve her with a civil lawsuit, too. My mother was smoothing my hair, caught between fretting over me and making sure the men were plied with dad's best scotch.

Calm down.

Vicky pinned me with a glare from across the room, where she sat beside her dad, her face as hawklike and shrewd as his. Brett sat beside me, tense at the edge of his seat, his hands fisted against his mouth as his elbows rested on his knees. Even though my entire family was in the room, I'd never felt more alone in my life.

If only I'd never gotten out of Brandon's car.

"Maybe...maybe we should just wait," I managed finally, my voice as sticky as glue in my throat. Mr. Carrington, glanced at me for the barest of moments before he continued to talk with dad as if I hadn't said anything.

"I'm gonna take Madison upstairs," Victoria announced, "Today has been a lot."

"I'll send up some dinner." My mom patted my head, her eyes brimming with tears while the rest of her face barely moved from all her Botox.

Brett followed Victoria and me up the stairs, his footsteps as weighty as the scowl that hadn't left his face since I'd walked in.

"Why don't you go find us that food," Vicky said to Brett, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. "I'll get this one into comfies and we can just watch some TV or something."

Brett blinked at Vicky as if he'd been lost in thought before he scrubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, maybe you could. I need to talk to Maddie." When Vicky didn't move, he added, "Alone."

His eyes found mine, hard and unrelenting, and my stomach dropped. I gulped a swallow, my tears as close to the surface as they'd been all day.

Vicky's arm tensed around my shoulders, but her expression remained as gentle and peachy as it had been since she'd addressed Brett. "Now? I think Maddie's been through enough today." She didn't wait for Brett's reply and wheeled me around, leading me into my room.

"Vic–"

"Food, babe." Vicky said over her shoulder, before she closed the door behind us. Her arm left my shoulders as she whirled me to face her.

"You need to get it together," she whispered, her blue eyes wide and incredulous. "This is kiddie stuff compared to what I have in mind for the bastard who played you."

"But–" I began, my chest tight.

"But nothing." She shook my shoulders. "The world doesn't take teenaged girls seriously, Maddie, so what do we do? We make them listen. We make them pay attention. We make the ones who hurt us pay."

My shoulders crumpled, cowed by her grip and her words. I stared down at the carpet as it blurred beneath my tears.

"Welcome to the big leagues, kid. You said you were in. You can't back down now." She shook her head at me, her jaw set. "Please don't tell me you told someone."

"I didn't! But anyone could have seen us giving that USB to–"

Vicky's face had relaxed the moment I'd confirmed that I hadn't told anyone. "Ernie MacMillan won't talk. Not if Harvard is on the line." She turned away to riffle through my dresser and pull out a pair of sweatpants and a loose cotton tee. "Change. And take a breath, will you? The world isn't ending just because Daddy's filing papers."

But it definitely felt like it was. She pressed the clothes to my chest, yanked my phone from my fingers, and nudged me towards the bathroom. I dumped the sweats and tee onto the counter and leaned against the sink, my knotted stomach threatening to overtake me. I splashed water on my face, scrubbing off my makeup and staring at my pink face in the mirror.

Did Vicky ever stare at herself like this and wonder if she was becoming a monster? Or did she grin and gloat and revel in the downfall of whatever poor soul happened to be in her way?

"Ethan's quite the manipulative dick, isn't he?" Vicky asked through the bathroom door, pitching her voice low as she said "We need to talk. Now. Don't you dare ignore this Madison.Want me to delete this whole string of garbage?"

I pressed my eyes closed. Of course she was going through my phone. I changed wearily into the clothes she'd picked out and left the bathroom. She lounged on my couch, her legs up over the armrests as her thumb scrolled through my phone.

"Give it back please." I held my hand out to her.

She glanced up at me over the phone. "On one condition." She swung her legs down so she could stand and stare me down. I held her gaze, already feeling about as big as a bug.

"No more of this cryptic, whiny garbage, okay?" She held up my last text to her before deleting it and her reply. "You either ride this tide with me, or you drown. Got it?"

I took the phone back, my words caught behind the lump in my throat. Her mention of riding the tide hadn't steeled me like she'd hoped. Instead, it had torn my thoughts back to the boy I'd left in the movie theatre without so much as a goodbye.

"You should block Ethan's number, too. I think he sent five messages while you were changing." Vicky scoffed and flopped back down on my couch, reaching for the remote.

My fingers seemed to have a life of their own as they opened my messages. Sure enough, Ethan's name had made it to the top of the pile. But just below him, with a little blue notification bubble beside his grinning picture, was Tyler. My thumb hovered, hesitating until Brett shoved open my bedroom door.

"There's a reason I don't cook," he grumbled, and had my stomach not been a knotted mess I would have laughed at the ridiculous assortment of food he'd stacked onto one of mom's flowered trays she used to serve poolside drinks to her expensive friends. A bag of Tostitos, a half-finished jar of salsa, an entire, unpeeled carrot, two uncut stalks of celery, a bag of M&Ms, last night's chicken leftovers, a wedge of brie, and a package of mom's fancy Stonewall Kitchen crackers all sat jumbled together.

Vicky smiled and patted the couch beside her as Kim shouted at Khloe on TV. "It's just perfect, babe. Maddie, come on, eat something."

So we all settled in, as if the world wasn't about to explode around me. Brett sat between me and Vicky and her head rested on his shoulder while he whined about reality TV. I picked at the chips and salsa, my mind on the texts sitting unread on my phone until Vicky's dad called her to leave.

"This is just the beginning. Buck up, buttercup," she whispered when she hugged me goodbye, fixing me with a stern, meaningful look.

Buttercup...

My stomach somersaulted and the junk I'd eaten for dinner congealed into a knot.

Brett cleaned up the mess we'd made of his dinner tray before he walked her out. But the way he kept glancing over at me hinted that the conversation he'd wanted to have earlier was probably coming.

So as soon as they left, I closed my door, switched off the lights, and crawled into bed. Mostly to hide, since sleep wouldn't be coming any time soon.

Alone in the silence as Mr. Carrington's Maserati growled down the driveway, I finally worked up the courage to face my texts. Or at least, one of my texts. The rest I studiously ignored, like the ones from Courtney and the ones from the group chat that had blown up since this morning with a whopping 142 new messages. There was only one I cared about.

I pressed my eyes closed, gulped, and opened Tyler's.

Hey. Hope you're okay.

My eyes flooded. Tyler deserved so much better than someone who ran out of the movies and ditched him to hitch a ride with another guy. And yet here he was, sending a gentle nudge so I'd know he was worried about me. The urge to spill everything in a long-winded, iMessage confession had my thumbs shaking over the keyboard.

"Buck up, buttercup..."

Vicky's words replayed like a terrible mantra in my head. I tossed my phone away. I wouldn't be able to sleep, not with the guilt that tumbled in my stomach. Instead, I tossed and turned, resisting the urge to tell Tyler everything, to try to make it like it was before, when I could tell him anything and he'd be okay with it. But he wouldn't be okay with it. Not after what Victoria had done.

What I had done.

"Welcome to the big leagues, kid. You said you were in. You can't back down now..."

But I wanted to. Oh, how badly I wanted to. How badly I wanted to go back to September, to refuse Ethan that first ride home in my car. To shake myself to my senses after the stupid Katie incident at Halloween. So much could have been better. So much would've never happened.

I sobbed, muffling it in my pillow, and reached for my phone. As if Instagram and all the cat videos on YouTube could serve as a lifeline. Except my phone wasn't a lifeline, it was more like a timebomb, because before I could open either app, the angry red notification bubble of my unread messages caught me.

My thumbs found Tyler's name and lingered, shaking over the screen as it flooded my bedroom with its blue glow. I had to reply. I owed him at least that. But what could I say? Was there anything to say to explain myself? How could I say "I'm sorry, I'm part of the reason Dakota's ruined and I can't sleep because the guilt is eating me up inside and I don't want to drag you down with me" without shattering everything?

The screen blurred before my eyes. I closed his messages. Ethan's name glared up at me from just above Tyler's, with the snippet of "Answer me Madison. We need to talk–"previewed, even though I hadn't opened any of the 3 messages he'd sent since Vicky had handed my phone back.

But beneath Ethan, I hadn't noticed that Brandon had sent me a gif. I hadn't opened it yet, so my thumb wobbled and clicked it open. A cat dressed as a pirate waddled towards me on repeat, his fake arm with a hook sticking out at a sassy angle. I laughed despite myself, snorting on my snotty tears.

Thanks for that, I replied, then bit my lip when I realized it was well after 1 am.

Almost instantly, his typing text bubble appeared. I gotchu girl. U ok?

Been better.

Can't sleep?

Not a wink.

Poolside. 5 mins.

I frowned down at my phone before I pushed myself upright. Sure enough, across the backyard, Brandon's bedroom window lit up.

It's too late!  I sent, then pressed my phone to my chest.

So ud rather sit up alone in ur bed than w me?

Not really, I thought. Better his company than just my guilt keeping me up. I threw off my covers.

**A/N: OH HI

LOOK WHO'S BACK!! And this is the strangest thing to say...but it's all thanks to the discovery of a very old iPod and all the playlists I'd created in 2007 when I first started writing this story.

Also, BIG thank you to all the new readers leaving comments here and on HTRYHS - you guys were a major part of the push for me to get back into this too! 

As always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment. Some food for thought: 

Was Maddie right to ditch Tyler at the movies? 

Should she have waited to listen to what Brett had to say? 

Should she follow along with Vicky's plan?