Page 5 of What Goes Around

Settle down.

Like my reputation wasn’t burning to ash.

I was feeling nauseous constantly. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. My stomach was always in knots, my body shaking from exhaustion and fear. I lost weight so fast my clothes started hanging off me.

I tried calling Nick. Tried calling Payton. It went straight to voicemail. Then they blocked me.

I went to see Nick once, but his apartment security said I was removed from his visitor list. Payton had moved back home, and her parents, his parents, who once treated me like family, refused to answer my calls.

When someone leaked my phone number, the hate calls began.

I stopped turning my phone on.

Then one day, Apple showed up.

I’d been sitting on the couch, staring at nothing, when the pounding started at the door.

When I opened it, she stood there, holding a bag of groceries like that would fix anything.

“You should’ve told me you were coming,” I muttered.

She gave me that same pitying smile. “I was worried about you. You haven’t been answering my calls.”

“Maybe because the last time we talked, you acted like you believed it,” I snapped.

Her smile faltered for a second, then returned, soft and patient. “Ashley, I’m trying to help. But it’s hard when people keep sending me screenshots of your messages. It’s not easy defending you, you know.”

I froze. “You’ve been talking to people about me?”

“Only to make them understand,” she said quickly. “I just tell them you’re confused. That you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Confused?” My voice cracked. “You’re making it worse, Apple!”

Her expression shifted, hurt, then tired. “I’m not the one who made it worse, Ash. You did.”

For a second, I wanted to scream. Throw her out. Break something, anything. But instead, I just stood there, too hollow to fight.

Over the next few days, the online hate somehow got even worse. I started avoiding windows. Even grocery runs became terrifying.

And then, one afternoon, I saw him.

Thomas.

He was standing in the parking lot outside the grocery store, looking at his phone. When he saw me, he froze, guilt flashing across his face.

For a heartbeat, I thought he’d come over. Explain. Apologize. Something.

But he didn’t.

He just turned and walked away.

Even when I called his name.

In the days that followed, Apple kept showing up. Her voice was soft, but her pity felt suffocating.

“You can’t hide forever,” she’d say. “People will forgive you eventually. They always do.”

But she was wrong.