Chapter 1
Tyler's laugh hit me before his words did. His mouth was open, teeth showing, that slow smirk locked in place while his eyes dragged from my face down to my backpack and back up again. He breathed loud through his nose, and his head tilted just a little toward me like he'd caught me doing something embarrassing.
It didn't make sense. The hallway was empty except for us, lockers humming under the fluorescent lights, and I hadn't done anything except stop to get my algebra book. The contradiction sat right there in front of me — I'd been worried about being late to class, and suddenly I was the one being watched, being recorded. Tyler had his black smartphone up, held sideways with both hands, and Jace stood behind me with his arms crossed, smiling like this was exactly what he'd been waiting for.
My name is Maya. I was fifteen that fall.
It was around ten in the morning, third period just letting out, and the hallway smelled like old wax and wet coats. I had both hands on my backpack straps, pulling that worn gray fabric tight against my chest. The brown leather patch on the front pocket was frayed at the edge where I'd picked at it. Jace was close behind me, close enough I could hear him shift his weight, and Tyler stepped in tighter until I could see the patches on his dark jacket and the shine on his phone screen.
He said it plain, like a dare he'd already decided I'd fail.
"Call your dad."
I didn't answer. My throat was dry and my hands wouldn't let go of the straps. Tears had already started running down my face and I hated that he could see them. The fluorescent light made everything too sharp — the green lockers on the right wall, the scuff marks on the floor, the way Jace's smile didn't move.
Tyler took a half step closer. He lowered his voice a little, but not enough to be quiet.
"Go on. Call him."
He leaned in then, intruding into my space until I could see the pores on his skin and the way his breathing made his shoulders rise. His hand came up toward my backpack, fingers reaching for the strap where my hands were locked. I flinched before he touched it, a small jerk that made Jace laugh behind me. There was a dull metallic thud somewhere down the hall — a locker shutting, or someone kicking one — and it made my shoulders jump.
Tyler didn't pull his hand back right away. He let it hover, then dropped it, and his smirk got wider for the camera. His phone stayed steady, recording. I knew the little red light was on. I could see my own blurry reflection in the screen.
"You can't scare us, old man. You wanted her father? I'm here."
He wasn't talking to me anymore. He said it past me, louder, performing for the lens like there was already an audience. Jace uncrossed his arms and moved to stand on my left, boxing me in between them and the lockers. I kept clutching my backpack because if I let go I didn't know what they'd grab next. My chest was tight from trying not to sob out loud.
May you like
Down at the far end of the hallway, past the lockers and the water fountain, a group of adults in dark jackets started toward us. I couldn't make out faces yet, just shapes moving steadily closer, shoes loud on the tile. They hadn't called out. They hadn't told Tyler to put the phone down. They just kept coming while Tyler held his phone higher to get all of us in the frame and Jace leaned against the lockers like he owned them.
Tyler glanced toward the approaching group and then back at me, and he didn't lower the phone. The hallway felt narrower, the lights buzzing overhead, and I was still frozen in the middle with my backpack clutched to my chest and the recording light staring back at me, waiting for me to do what they'd dared me to do.
