By the time the bell rang for sixth period, the video had already been forwarded seven times.
It started small — a group chat of theater kids, then the soccer team thread, and finally the all-school "Willow Tea" Instagram page: anonymous, unfiltered, and brutal.
📸: Talia Morgan holding hands with her STEP-BROTHER? In a back room??
📸: Captioned: "Y'all, bisexual means chaotic confirmed 💅🔥"
📸: Anonymous comment: "Didn't she date Maya like last year??"
📸: Another: "So she's switching teams AND siblings? Messy."
By the next minute, the views doubled.
By the next five, it was everywhere.
Talia stood in the girls' bathroom, her phone vibrating in her hoodie pocket like a ticking bomb she was too scared to touch. The fluorescent lights buzzed above her, too bright, too harsh.
Her hands trembled.
Her eyes burned.
Across the mirror, Elijah leaned against the sink like a judge on a fashion show panel, calm but watching her carefully.
"Okay," he said, ticking off fingers.
"One: you look amazing under pressure. Two: I'm going to find whoever leaked this and ruin their entire aesthetic with rainbow glitter."
Talia let out a shaky breath.
"It was Maya," she whispered.
Elijah's expression shifted instantly.
"You sure?"
"She was there," Talia said. "She saw us. She's the only one who knew how much this would hurt… how much this would ruin everything."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
She slid down against the wall, the cold tiles pressing into her back, grounding her just enough to keep from falling apart.
"People think I'm confused," she said, barely above a whisper. "That I'm trash. That I'm—"
"Stop."
Elijah crouched in front of her, his voice firm now, no humor.
"You are not the problem. You are not the shame. They just don't know what to do with someone who doesn't fit into their tiny, boring boxes."
Talia looked at him, eyes glassy.
"Why are you always so strong?"
He smiled softly.
"Because if I break, who's going to help you glue your glittery chaos heart back together?"
A small laugh escaped her.
Not enough to fix anything.
But enough to breathe.
Outside the bathroom, Jace paced like a storm with nowhere to go.
This wasn't his kind of chaos.
He caused drama — sure. Skipped classes, flirted too much, pushed limits. But this?
This was different.
This was personal.
His phone buzzed.
Mom: We need to talk. Now.
Dad: What the hell is going on between you and Talia?
Jace stared at the screen, jaw tightening.
Then he looked up.
Maya stood a few feet away, calm and perfectly composed, iced coffee in hand like she had all the time in the world.
Like she hadn't just set everything on fire.
"You did this," he said, voice low.
She tilted her head slightly.
"She needed a reminder," Maya replied. "Talia doesn't get to float between people like it's a game. Girls, boys, you… she leaves wreckage."
Jace stepped closer.
"You didn't expose her," he said. "You exposed yourself."
Maya smirked, unfazed.
"You really think you matter to her more than I did?"
Jace held her gaze.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But I think I might."
For a second — just a second — something flickered in Maya's eyes.
Then it was gone.
That night, Talia stood in her room, everything spinning too fast to hold onto.
Elijah had posted a counter-story:
"Reminder: Being bi doesn't mean confused. Being in love doesn't mean wrong. And being human means messing up sometimes. Let's try grace over gossip for once, Willowridge."
It was spreading.
Not as fast as the video.
But enough to matter.
Still, the damage was done.
Her phone lit up again.
Logan: "Told you this would happen."
Maya: "You made me do this."
Elijah: "You're not alone."
Jace: "I'm outside."
Her chest tightened.
Slowly, she walked to the window and pulled the curtain back.
Jace sat on the hood of his car, hoodie up, headphones in, staring at nothing.
Waiting.
For her.
Talia stayed there, watching him.
Wanting to go.
Not ready to.
Not yet.