Revenge wasn’t sweet. It was sharp. Clean. Like flipping the chessboard after someone knocked over your king and saying, “Fine, new game.”
Ezra’s bedroom looked like a war room. Screens lit up the walls, cords tangled across the floor, and in the middle of it all sat my best friend—fierce, focused, and holding a flash drive like it was a dagger.
“This one’s from Jace’s sophomore year,” Ezra muttered, clicking through a folder. “He stuffed Miles into a trash can and called it recycling.”
“That’s horrifyingly creative,” I muttered, scrolling through another batch. “Here’s the one where he locked Tasha in the gym closet and blamed the janitor.”
Ezra snorted. “And the one where he made fake texts pretending Chris had a crush on the coach? Classic.”
We didn’t laugh. Not when every screenshot, every clip, every saved Snap was another kid humiliated while the crowd cheered. I’d been one of them. But I wasn’t the only one.
“We could just send it to the principal,” I said quietly.
Ezra gave me a look. “You think administration’s gonna care about ancient history?”
“I mean…”
“Noah.” He turned the monitor. “This isn’t about getting him suspended. This is about changing the narrative.”
“So what do we do?”
Ezra’s grin was vicious. “We leak it.”
By Monday morning, it was everywhere.
Not just on some petty gossip account—on public platforms. TikTok. Reddit. A burner Instagram called @JaceUnmasked, already with thousands of followers. Screenshots. Videos. Names. Dates. Context.
Jace Harrington: serial bully. Fully exposed. In digital, timestamped 4K.
The silence in the halls was almost holy.
When I stepped into the cafeteria, it felt like walking into a courtroom. Heads turned. Phones buzzed. Conversations dropped. At first, I thought it was me. But then the door behind me opened—and Jace walked in.
He looked normal. Too normal. Hoodie, swagger, that smug smirk like nothing had changed. Except everything had. No one greeted him. He strolled halfway across the room and finally noticed it: the silence wasn’t just awkward. It was hostile.
I watched as people looked away. Or worse—stared straight through him. Someone whispered. Someone else scooted their tray farther down the table. The power he used to carry like a weapon suddenly vanished.
Jace paused, blinking like the world had betrayed him. His gaze found mine. And for the first time, he didn’t smirk.
I didn’t look away.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept checking my phone. The post had over ten thousand views. I expected guilt, maybe. But mostly, I felt breathless.
A knock at my window nearly made me fall off my bed.
Luca.
He crouched on the fire escape like some beautiful, hoodie-wearing raccoon. “You gonna let me in or make me climb?”
I opened the window. “You’re literally three stories up.”
He climbed in anyway, landing with practiced ease. “Heard what happened.”
“Oh?”
“The internet says some nobody nerd and his hacker bestie just overthrew a social tyrant.”
I laughed. “Ezra’s not a hacker. Just…very skilled.”
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Better than okay. I think I needed to know I could fight back.”
Luca moved closer. “You didn’t just stand up for yourself. You stood up for everyone.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t expect people to care.”
“People care more than they admit.” His eyes softened. “Especially when someone finally says what they’ve been too scared to say.”
We were standing close now. Too close. Or maybe not close enough. His hand brushed mine. I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t.
“Everyone at school’s talking about it,” he said, voice lower now. “You turned the whole place upside down. Like…without even yelling.”
I smiled. “Maybe I should run for student council.”
“I’d vote for you.”
We stood there in the blue-tinted quiet, the room lit only by my lamp and the weight of what had changed between us. I felt it in the way he looked at me—like I wasn’t just some project or punchline anymore. Like I was mine. And maybe his.
Luca took a step forward. Our noses nearly touched. “You still think you’re a joke?”
“No,” I whispered. “Not with you.”
“Good.”