We do not look good. I look confused. Noah looks like there’s smoke coming out of his ears from thinking too hard, and Aiden looks pissed. Hot, but pissed.

“Fine,” I relent. It won’t matter if I have pictures with my friends soon anyway. “But don’t post this. I’ll post a picture of just myself. Only if Aiden’s on board.”

We all turn to look at Aiden, who’s just joined us in the kitchen, my phone in his hand.

I don’t need his permission to do anything and he knows it. But I’ve got a plan forming in my mind, and I need Aiden on board if this is going to work.

His face is hard, his jaw set. He stands in front of me and lowers his head so he’s looking right into my eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? That you’re ready for this?”

Am I? I’m not sure. But I am ready for the running and hiding and lying and stress to be done with. I’m ready to just live my life. It’s time I do something about it.

Without taking my eyes off his, I nod, and determination washes over his face.

“I hate this. I really, really hate this. But if it’s what you want—” His jaw works for a moment as he reads the determination on my face. “All right then,” he says, handing me my phone. “We do this. Together.”

After running through a plan and forcing the boys to swear not to tell anyone, including a pinkie swear so I know they’re serious, I create an S-Live Time account under my real name, Thea Kennedy. I post a lone picture of me, and the caption is simply my phone number. As I drive home around noon and make a stop at the hardware store, all I can think about are the things that can go wrong. I don’t want my friends to get hurt but I can’t stay here and wait for them to eventually get hurt anyway. I’m just so tired of running and hiding and keeping secrets and looking over my shoulder. I’m taking back control and handling this by charging headfirst into my problem. I will end this. One way or another.

The store is in a plaza with other stores, one of which is a coffee shop. As I walk to my car, I spot a familiar Porsche sitting near my car. Kaitlyn must be on lunch break from school.

She exits the coffee shop and notices me standing near her car. She pauses before sighing and continuing toward me.

“Are you stalking me?” she asks, opening her car door. “Did you forget what I said about us not being friends?”

“Yeah, yeah, not friends, got it. Have you told your mom about Anna?”

The plan might not work out, but at least I’ll know that Anna’s reputation has been righted and she can come back to King City High with her friends, even if she’s pissed at us.