“I think you’d be proud of me,” I say, staring at the dim star stickers on the ceiling. “I think it went really well. I sent you a copy of the video a friend took. For you to watch. I want to show you.” I close my eyes. I don’t know what I want to show her. “I wanted to explain. I hope this explains.”

I wake up on Tuesday morning to hear that the students who “confessed” to being in the audience are getting detention and probation too.

The video of the hearing keeps circulating, posted on our class forums over and over again, every time they’re taken down. The photos that Jack did of us—the ones students brought with them to the hearing—keep showing up around campus, posted so relentlessly that the school eventually announces a ban on students posting flyers. But it doesn’t stop.

And then in pre-calc on Wednesday, I get an email from someone at BuzzFeed. I’m frozen there, leaning over my messenger bag, looking at my phone’s notification screen, which flickers black again. I was just getting a pen, and now I’m waiting to write Buzzfeed back when class is over.

That would be something else to leave my mother a message about. She’d tell me I was getting a little famous, I think. She might care about that. I wonder if she’s gotten an email about the quiz I near-flunked on Tuesday.

They want to interview me for a story, the email says. They’ve heard about our situation.

“our situation” I type to the group. we have a situation

we have made a situation, Nevaeh says. Firecracker emoji from Katherine. I am still laughing at that when Taylor types, have you emailed them back yet? email them back.

There’s a video of me circulating the internet. My furious speech. The idea of it being so far out of my control makes me nauseated, but I am fiercely glad that it’s out there. That it caught the attention of a reporter, because enough people are talking about it. I want more people to watch, to understand my anger, to get angry not just on our behalf, but the whole shitty situation, from dress codes to slut shaming and all the lousiness in between.

I email BuzzFeed back. We haven’t heard from the school, I type to Jessica at BuzzFeed, who tells me to call her when we find out. As if I am going to use my phone to call someone.

ridiculous, Nevaeh agrees.

At dinner, we all get the email at the same time. We’ll hear the honor board’s verdict on Friday morning.

Good luck! Jessica at BuzzFeed emails. We’re rooting for you. We hope you win!

Same, Jessica at BuzzFeed. Same.

28

We don’t wear our ensemble costumes the next time we go to the dean’s office, though the temptation is strong.