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“Like I don’t want to be here,” I admitted. “And I think this isn’t necessary.”
“I’d like to see the post, and I’m sure your mother would, but if the officer and Dr. Miller feel this warrants action, then I’m going to lean on agreeing with them.”
Of course, he would.
I didn’t pull out my phone or volunteer the post, but I didn’t have to. Officer Lester pulled it up on her computer screen and turned it around. I kept my gaze fixed on my hands. I really didn’t need to see the images again. Showing Ian’s dad was only going to create more problems for the guys on top of everything else.
“As you can see,” Officer Lester said. “Some of these photos are fairly explicit. The language is also keyed to targeting Ms. Curtis, as are the implications in the following images.”
My face was on fire, and I needed to file my nails. There were nicks in a couple of them. I also needed some lotion. The skin was dry. Did I not rub lotion over my hands after the shower that morning? A dull ache settled behind my eyes, weighing heavier and heavier with each tap of the space bar on the officer’s computer.
Finally, the show and tell portion ended, and Mr. Rhys sat down in the chair next to me. I stole a look at him, and the sympathy on his face just made me want to crawl into a hole. “Do you know who posted it, Frankie?”
“Not for certain, no.” That wasn’t a lie. I was pretty sure it was Sharon. The screen name she used was close to her own. Course, Sharon was in some of those pictures. She’d been the one to make the comment in the bathroom, too.
“Are you just saying that because you want this to go away, or do you really not know?” The question didn’t quite accuse me of lying, but the suggestion was there.
“I’m saying it because I don’t know. I don’t know the name it was posted under. I was just tagged in it.”
He nodded, and then gave my shoulder another squeeze before he focused on the officer. “Are we getting those images taken down?”
“We’ve made some calls, but it’s a process. In the meanwhile, it’s obviously had a lot of hits. If we can identify the student, then we can also approach them and their parents to remove the post.”
“Everyone has pretty much seen it, so what does removing it do?” Maybe I should have just shut up, but they dragged me in here for this less than comfortable discussion.
“I know it seems very after the fact,” Officer Lester said. “However, documenting a pattern of behavior and perhaps nipping it in the bud may help prevent future incidents. We also want our students exercising better judgment when it comes to their social media behavior. As you know, colleges look at your social media footprint during the evaluation process.”
Great.
“And while you didn’t post this…”
It still had my name all over it. “I really don’t know. I can guess, but that would be pointing a finger blind. It could be someone else entirely who just wants to cause trouble.”
Mr. Rhys scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “We could reach out to the parents of all the other students pictured here. Particularly those at the party in some of the images.” His mouth tightened, and I winced. “I would imagine they would know who was there and had access to these photos.”
“It’s the internet,” I pointed out. “It takes less than three seconds to share a photo with someone else.”
“I’m afraid that Frankie has a point,” Diane said from where she’d been quietly leaning against the wall. “That said, we would like you to make a statement. You’re the affected party. With or without your statement, we are going to investigate it because cyber-bullying is a serious offense that could have legal implications down the road, but is definitely in violation of the school’s code of conduct.”
For some reason, that made me want to laugh. No one cared about the code of conduct. We all had to sign it every year, and I doubted anyone had read it from front to back.
I hadn’t.
It was ten pages long of basically common sense rules. We knew the important one:don’t be an asshole.
“Maybe just tell us how this affects you,” the officer suggested.
“I don’t care what they think. The pictures paint an image, they’re designed to make me question my friends. To feel bad. I don’t.” Which was mostly true. “It mostly makes me feel tired.”
“Have you received any other contact from the poster? We looked at your Instagram, but we didn’t find too many other tagged photos of a similar nature. Maybe ones sent through DMs?”
“No,” I lied.
“What other social media platforms are you on?”
“The usual ones,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t usually do that much. I’ve been busy.” Then with a look at Diane, I added, “I have five AP classes I’m taking, and I have a job.”
“Frankie is probably one of the most conscientious students I’ve ever met. She’s good for Ian. She shoulders a tremendous amount of responsibility, maybe even more than she should at her age.” Was that judgment in Mr. Rhys’ voice?
