Back Love, Heather
Chapters (42)
  1. Title Page
  2. Dedication
  3. Acknowledgments
  4. Prologue
  5. Part 1: March
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Part 2: April
  14. Chapter 8
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Chapter 12
  19. Chapter 13
  20. Chapter 14
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Chapter 25
  32. Chapter 26
  33. Chapter 27
  34. Chapter 28
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Part 3: July
  38. Chapter 31
  39. Chapter 32
  40. Epilogue
  41. Also Available by Laurie Petrou
  42. Author Biography

By the time I get home, it has gained momentum. First, there are comments on my channel.

FREAK

WHORE

SLUT

SHE’LL SUCK YOU OFF ANYWHERE YOU WANT

WHO WOULD WANT THAT LMAO

They keep adding up, quicker than I can refresh. A pile-up. Tears hot on my face, I look at video after video that I have made, carefully, lovingly, and read what’s under them. A sickening panic is rising in my gut. Paige? Lottie? I picture them together, laughing at me. No, I know Lottie would never. But …

I take down the video about Pete, even though the hateful comments on there are directed mostly at me. I leave the other videos up for now. Maybe it will blow over.

My phone is shaking in my hand. I check Instagram. I have been tagged a bunch of times by accounts I’ve never even seen before. There is a still image from one of my early videos: my eyes half open, my mouth open, braces on full display. It’s a meme. It says ERMAHGERD! MOVIESH! Under it. And another: ERMAHGERD! I LOVE COCK! There are so many tags under them, things that make no sense, with my URL, too: #LOSER #WHORE #NERD #BITCH #TROLL #SCHOOL #STEVIE #SJW #LONER #KILLYOURSELF, more. I try to trace back who the unknown accounts belong to, who follows them. Deeper and deeper. I see that Breanne Davis is following a couple of them, and Aidan, and then Paige by extension, then Lottie, in six degrees of separation. I look back at my channel. There are more and more comments. I can’t keep up.

In every app we all use, they find a way in.

What did I do? What do I do?

“Stevie?” I hear my mom call. “Stevie, hon, we’re going out, okay?”

“Bye, Stevie!” Reg yells from the hall.

The door closes with a click.

My phone pings. It’s a group text I’ve just been added to. I don’t recognize the number or any of the fifteen people on it. I scroll up and read through the thread.

you know Stevie

who

this loser

There is that old pic of me again.

LMAO yea i know her

i am in one of her classes. She reeks

There are a bunch of shit and barf emojis.

like what

dead tuna

LMAO LMAO

omg

dying

slut

Fish emoji. Skull emoji.

shit is she on this thread

oops

i thought i smelled something

lmao whore