Chapter 3: The Phone
Nobody moved.
The student holding the phone was Jordan.
Miles' best friend.
Mrs. Harris looked from Jordan to her son.
“Miles?””
He stood so quickly his backpack fell onto the floor.
“Jordan, what are you doing here?””
Jordan didn't answer.
Ariana stepped into the office.
She looked smaller than Mrs. Harris expected.
Not weak.
Just tired.
The kind of tired that came from spending too much time pretending something didn't hurt.
Principal Reynolds motioned toward the chairs.
“Everyone sit down.””
Jordan remained standing.
“I don't want to sit.””
“Jordan,” the principal said, “sit.””
The boy reluctantly took the chair beside Ariana.
Miles stayed near the wall.
Mrs. Harris picked up his backpack and set it beside him.
Then she turned to Jordan.
“What is on your phone?””
Jordan looked at Miles.
“A picture.””
Miles' face went pale.
“Delete it.””
Jordan shook his head.
“No.””
“Jordan, delete it.””
“No.””
“I said delete it!””
Principal Reynolds raised his hand.
“Miles, stop.””
Jordan looked down at his phone.
“I didn't send it to anyone.””
Ariana spoke quietly.
“But somebody did.””
Mrs. Harris looked at her.
“Who?””
Ariana's fingers curled around the edge of her sleeve.
“I don't know.””
Miles looked at the floor.
Mrs. Harris noticed.
“You know.””
He didn't respond.
“Miles.””
“I don't.””
Ariana turned toward him.
“You sent it to me first.””
“What?””
“I sent it to you because I trusted you.””
Miles shook his head.
“I didn't think—”
“You never do.””
His jaw tightened.
“You're making this worse.””
Ariana laughed once.
It wasn't amused.
“You're worried I'm making it worse?””
Mrs. Harris stepped between them.
“Ariana, I want to understand what happened.””
The girl looked at her.
“I know.””
“Then please tell me.””
Ariana took a breath.
“She sent me a picture of her outfit that morning,” Miles said suddenly.
Ariana looked at him.
“I asked him if the clothes looked okay because I was nervous.””
Mrs. Harris glanced down at Ariana's outfit.
It was simple.
A faded blue sweater.
Black jeans.
White sneakers.
Nothing unusual.
Ariana continued.
“He said I looked nice.””
Miles stared at the carpet.
“So I believed him.””
Her voice cracked slightly.
“Then at lunch, I heard people laughing.””
Jordan looked uncomfortable.
Ariana continued.
“Miles had shown them the picture.””
Mrs. Harris looked at her son.
“Why?””
Miles said nothing.
Ariana pointed toward Jordan's phone.
“Because someone had turned it into a meme.””
Mrs. Harris froze.
“A meme?””
Jordan finally spoke.
“I didn't make it.””
Ariana looked at him.
“But you saved it.””
Jordan's face fell.
“I know.””
“Why?””
“I thought it was funny at first.””
The room went silent.
Jordan looked ashamed.
“I didn't realize…”
Ariana interrupted.
“You didn't realize until people started sharing it.””
Jordan nodded.
“Yeah.””
Mrs. Harris turned toward Miles.
“Did you make the meme?””
“No.””
“Did you send the picture to someone who did?””
“I sent it to Jordan.””
Jordan immediately looked at him.
“You sent it to three people.””
Miles glared.
“Shut up.””
Mrs. Harris' voice sharpened.
“Three?””
Miles didn't answer.
“Who were they?””
“I don't remember.””
Jordan laughed bitterly.
“You remember.””
“Jordan.””
“You sent it to me, Tyler, and Ben.””
Principal Reynolds wrote the names down.
Mrs. Harris stared at her son.
“Why?””
Miles rubbed his forehead.
“I wanted them to laugh.””
The words seemed to cost him something.
Ariana looked away.
Mrs. Harris closed her eyes.
There it was.
Not an accident.
Not a misunderstanding.
A choice.
She opened her eyes again.
“Did you know Ariana didn't want anyone else seeing the picture?””
Miles nodded.
“Yes.””
“And you sent it anyway.””
“Yes.””
“Then you made jokes about her clothes.””
“Yes.””
“And when she asked you to stop?””
“I laughed.””
Mrs. Harris' voice became quiet.
“And when she stopped sitting with you?””
Miles finally looked at her.
“I missed her.””
Ariana stared at him.
“You missed me?””
“I did.””
“Then why didn't you apologize?””
Miles opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Ariana looked down at her hands.
“Because you liked everyone laughing.””
Miles whispered, “I didn't know it would go that far.””
“That doesn't make it better.””
“I know.””
Principal Reynolds took the phone from Jordan.
“Jordan, I need you to unlock this.””
Jordan hesitated.
“Why?””
“We need to establish what was shared and when.””
Jordan handed it over.
The principal scrolled.
Then stopped.
His expression changed.
“What?””
Mrs. Harris leaned forward.
“What is it?””
Principal Reynolds turned the phone around.
On the screen was the original picture.
But underneath it were dozens of messages.
Laughing emojis.
Comments.
Screenshots.
Then one message stood out.
*Send this to the eighth-grade group.*
Mrs. Harris felt sick.
“Who wrote that?””
Jordan shook his head.
“I don't know.””
Principal Reynolds kept scrolling.
Then his finger stopped again.
Ariana leaned forward.
Her face drained of color.
“No.””
Mrs. Harris looked at her.
“What?””
Ariana whispered, “That's my brother.””
Everyone turned.
“Your brother?”” Principal Reynolds asked.
Ariana nodded.
“He's not in this school.””
Jordan looked confused.
“Then how did he get it?””
Ariana stared at the screen.
Her breathing became shallow.
“He didn't.””
Mrs. Harris frowned.
“What do you mean?””
Ariana pointed at the username.
“That isn't his account.””
Principal Reynolds zoomed in.
Ariana's face went white.
“That account belongs to someone else.””
“Who?”” he asked.
Ariana shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Then Miles suddenly stepped forward.
“I do.””
Every head turned toward him.
Mrs. Harris' voice was barely a whisper.
“Who?””
Miles stared at the username.
“I've seen that account before.””
“Where?””
“At school.””
“Whose account is it?””
May you like
Miles hesitated.
Then he said a name that made Ariana stand up so fast her chair fell backward.
