Chapter 3 - North Hall Was Supposed To Be Over
I called Brooke fourteen times.
She answered none.
I called the unknown number once.
Straight to voicemail.
No greeting.
I knew that did not prove it was Lena.
I also knew.
At six that evening, Rachel posted nothing.
That surprised me.
By seven, three students had uploaded pieces of the picnic fight anyway.
One clip started with cake hitting Rachel.
Bad for me.
One started with Rachel punching me.
Good for me.
One showed Brooke turning her phone around.
Confusing enough that comments multiplied underneath.
WHO IS “THEY”?
WHY WAS THE FRIEND FILMING HER?
THIS LOOKS STAGED.
VANESSA GOT ROCKED LOL.
I threw my phone onto my bed.
My cheek hurt.
My back hurt.
My birthday dress had grass stains down one side.
I was twenty-three years old and had spent the afternoon manufacturing evidence of someone else's instability.
The part that bothered me most was that Brooke had changed the camera.
I drove to her apartment.
She wasn't there.
Her roommate opened the door three inches.
“She's not talking to you.”
“Did she say that?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“Vanessa.”
“Where?”
The door closed.
I stood in the hallway staring at painted wood.
Then my phone rang.
Rachel.
I almost declined.
Answered instead.
“What?”
Her voice was flat.
“Stop calling Brooke.”
I laughed.
“You've been talking to her.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Not your business.”
“Everything became my business when she livestreamed my birthday to strangers.”
Rachel was silent.
Then:
“It wasn't your birthday.”
I stopped.
Right.
Her birthday.
I had already mentally converted the entire event into what had happened to me.
I hated noticing.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why call?”
“Because Brooke's scared you'll corner her.”
I laughed.
“Brooke isn't scared of me.”
“You sure?”
That annoyed me because I wasn't.
Rachel continued:
“She won't give me the video either.”
“What?”
“She has the original. I asked for a copy.”
“Why?”
“Because there are already clips online that make it look like I punched you out of nowhere.”
I almost said good.
Stopped.
Rachel heard the silence anyway.
“That's what you wanted.”
I looked at my bedroom window.
Campus lights beyond.
“Yes.”
The word surprised both of us.
Rachel said:
“At least you're done pretending.”
“Why aren't you posting the full thing yourself?”
“I don't have it.”
“Brooke does.”
“Yes.”
“And she won't give it to you.”
“No.”
Interesting.
My best friend had betrayed me without joining Rachel.
“Why?”
Rachel took a breath.
“Ask her.”
“I'm asking you.”
“Then you're asking the wrong person.”
She ended the call.
I hated her for three seconds.
Then the unknown number called.
I answered.
No greeting.
A woman’s voice.
“Vanessa.”
Lena.
Two years collapsed into one breath.
“You were on Brooke’s stream.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she asked me to watch.”
“Why would you?”
Silence.
Then:
“Because she said you were going to do to Rachel what you did to me.”
My jaw tightened.
“That isn't what happened.”
Lena laughed softly.
“You still say that.”
“You came into my room.”
“Because you had my laptop.”
“You left it in the lounge.”
“You took it.”
“You were drunk.”
“I was angry.”
“You grabbed me.”
“You blocked the door.”
Every sentence had its partner.
Two years of separate versions.
I said:
“Brooke filmed it.”
“Yes.”
“That video showed you—”
“Which video?”
I stopped.
Lena continued.
“The forty-eight seconds everyone saw?”
My throat tightened.
“Or the three minutes Brooke kept?”
I had known there was more.
Of course I had.
I just hadn't watched it in two years.
“What do you want?”
Lena went quiet.
Then:
“I wanted to see whether you still needed someone else to hit you before you could feel innocent.”
I gripped the phone.
“You don't know me.”
“No.”
She agreed.
“You made sure of that.”
Then she said something worse.
“I didn't send that video to the university, Vanessa.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“The North Hall clip.”
“You filed the conduct complaint.”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I left campus three days later.”
“Because you knew what you did.”
Lena laughed.
Then stopped.
“Brooke never told you.”
My stomach dropped.
“Told me what?”
Lena's voice softened.
“I never reported you.”
The call ended.
I stood alone in my bedroom.
For two years I had believed Lena started the formal case that nearly cost me my housing placement.
I had built half my hatred around that.
May you like
Brooke had been the only other person in the room.
And suddenly I knew exactly where I was going next.
