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Stephanie seems to know exactly what I’m thinking. “It will be fine,” she says. “Your video already has 20,000 views and it’s still going strong.”
My jaw drops. “Seriously?” I ask. I’m stunned. “Who would watch it? I’m just a nerdy girl from North Carolina, trying to fix my mistakes.”
“That’s exactly why people are watching it. Because you’re raw and you’re real. And Taylor’s videos were way too edited. People knew there had to be more to the story. And oh man, did you deliver!”
“What are the comments like?” I ask. “Have the kids at school seen it?”
“They’re mostly positive,” Stephanie says. “A few trolls, which is to be expected. But lots of people are cheering you on. And the hashtags for team Ethan, team Austin, and team Jaron have started up again. What did your parents say?”
“They both apologized again for their over-reactions to the videos. They freaked when they thought they might lose their jobs. But they felt really guilty, especially Mom, for blaming me. We’re not perfect yet. I’m not sure we’ll ever be. But things are definitely getting better between us.”
“Good!” Stephanie says. “It’s about time they realize how great you are.”
I smile.
“Look!” Stephanie points to a marque outside of a small restaurant. The letters clearly spell out: Team Jaron.
That should have been my first clue that today was going to be anything but normal. As we pull up to the school, my jaw drops.
“What the—”
There is a crowd of people out front, cheering. There even appears to be a news crew. I turn and look at Stephanie. “That’s not because of me, is it?”
Stephanie shrugs. She looks just as shocked as I do.
We see a group of girls holding up a sign: Team Austin Always.
“Do they even go to our school?” I ask.
Stephanie shakes her head, her mouth still hanging open in surprise.
I see another small group wearing Team Ethan T-shirts. Are they for real?? Who made T-shirts?!
Another teenage boy standing near them is holding up a bright pink posterboard that reads: Dear Steve.
I am in absolute shock. I wanted my video to be shared with the school, so Jaron, Ethan, and Austin would all get to see my apology. But I never dreamed people outside of my tiny bubble would care at all.
Then, as I step from the car, someone yells, “That’s her!” And the crowd soon swallows us in.
A microphone is shoved in my face.
“Everyone is dying to know, have the three boys all responded to your prom-posal? Are they all taking you out? Is anyone still angry? What about the person who leaked your journals, are you pressing charges?”
The questions come flying at me in such rapid fire, I don’t even have time to answer any of them.
“I made up with Austin this morning,” I say.
The team Austin supporters cheer loudly.
“I haven’t spoken to Ethan or Jaron yet. But I’m hoping to talk to them today.”
Soon the campus police officer and Mrs. Graidy appear by my side. They force the crowd back and escort Stephanie and I inside.
“This is a school,” Mrs. Graidy says, sternly. “A place for education. Please return to your homes and let our students learn.”
We’re barely inside the school when a heavy arm slams onto my shoulder, causing me to jump. Ethan’s laughter rings in my ear.
“Sorry, Prom Queen, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says.
