The car jerked, and Alice almost bounced off the backseat. She winced, blinking her eyes open, sitting up with a yawn, the sunlight stabbing at her tired pupils. The world came into focus slowly—the familiar, worn-out interior of Damian Jones's car, the smell of old leather and his cologne, and the vague, unsettling memory of why she was here in the first place.
She fumbled for her phone, the screen almost blinding her. 8:00 AM. She'd been out all night. A short panic hit her, but it was dulled by exhaustion. The car slowed, and Damian pulled into a grimy pit stop, a gas station with a convenience store attached. The engine cut off with a shudder.
He turned to look at her, his face unreadable. He didn't seem surprised she was awake. He just got out, the door closing with a hollow thud. Alice watched him stretch, his back to her. She took a deep breath and pushed her door open, the cool morning air feeling good against her flushed skin.
Damian turned at the sound. "Well, well. Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up." His voice was rough, as if he hadn't used it in a while. "How'd you sleep?"
Alice ran a hand through her tangled hair. "I slept fine, actually. Better than I thought I would." She was surprised to find she meant it. It was the most peaceful sleep she'd had in weeks. "How about you?"
He shrugged, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "So-so. It's not exactly a five-star hotel in here." He gestured toward the store. "You want to grab something to eat?"
The thought of food made her stomach grumble in protest, but her mouth felt like cotton. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry. But I need to clean my mouth first. This is… gross."
He gave a short, almost grim laugh. "Right there with you. Come on."
They walked into the convenience store, a harshly lit space buzzing with fluorescent lights. Damian grabbed a couple of protein bars and a bag of chips, moving with a familiar kind of confidence. Alice gravitated toward the pharmacy aisle. She grabbed a small bottle of mouthwash, a pack of cheap painkillers for a headache that was beginning to bloom, and… her face flushed as she reached for a small box of sanitary pads. She shoved them quickly into her basket, hoping Damian hadn't noticed. He was already at the register, tossing a few bills down.
Back in the car, the silence was heavy and awkward. They settled into their seats, the engine humming as Damian pulled back onto the road. He cleared his throat, not taking his eyes off the asphalt.
"So," he started, his voice carefully neutral. "Do you remember everything that happened last night?"
Alice's hands tightened around the little bottle of mouthwash. The memories flooded back. The party. The kiss. The promise. "I remember," she said, her voice flat. "And I don't want to talk about it. We made a deal, remember? 'We should stop meeting each other ever again.'"
He scoffed, a sharp, dismissive sound. "Right. I remember. A deal's a deal." He agreed, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"Good," Alice said, a little more forcefully than she intended. She twisted the cap off the mouthwash, the minty scent sharp and clean. She took a generous swig, the liquid burning her mouth, and swished it around, feeling her taste buds come alive. She spat it into an empty cup she found in the side door. He did the same with a bottle of water, the only sound the gurgling of liquid.
They ate in silence. The protein bar was dry and tasteless, but she forced it down. She was acutely aware of him sitting next to her, their shoulders separated by mere inches. Every time she moved, she was hyper-conscious of his presence. She kept her eyes fixed on the landscape blurring past the window, trying to make sense of the knot of confusion in her chest.
Then she saw him. A flash of familiar black hair, a lean, familiar figure standing by a red sports car at the pit stop they were just passing. Melvin Blackthorne. And he was with another guy, someone she didn't recognize, their heads close together as they talked. Her heart stuttered, a painful lurch in her chest.
"Stop the car," she said, her voice coming out in a sharp whisper.
Damian didn't say a word. He just slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road a little way past the pit stop. He didn't stop her. He didn't ask any questions. He just watched her in the rearview mirror as she got out and started walking back toward the store.
She was shaking. Why? She'd broken up with him. It was over. She had no right to be jealous or angry. But there it was, a hot, corrosive feeling in her gut. She pushed the door open and walked toward him, forcing a smile on her face.
"Melvin?" she said, her voice a little too high.
He looked up, and his eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Alice? What are you doing here?" He glanced behind her and saw Damian's car idling on the side of the road. His smile faltered, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.
"I was just… getting some air," Alice lied, shrugging. "Nice to see you."
He turned to the guy he was with. "Alice, this is Nathan. Nathan Reyes. An old friend."
Alice's eyes narrowed. "Old friend," she repeated slowly. "Is he the reason for our breakup?"
Melvin laughed, a light, careless sound that cut through her like a knife. It was a clear admission. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
The anger burned hot and fast. It had only been a few weeks since they'd broken up, and she had thought she was over it. But standing here, seeing them together, the intimacy in the way they stood… it made her feel sick. He had moved on so easily. She tried to swallow her feelings, but a bitter taste lingered in her mouth.
"So," she pressed, fighting to keep her voice calm and steady, "where were you last night? At the party?"
"I didn't go," Melvin said, shaking his head. "I wasn't playing the game anyway. And I was… busy." He looked at Nathan as he said it and smiled, a slow, secret smile that was meant only for him.
Alice felt her hatred for them both bubble up to the surface. It was all she could do to keep her face neutral. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to cry. But she refused to let him see her break. She would move on. She would be fine.
"Alright then," she said, forcing a bright, fake smile. "I guess this is it then. How about one final hug before goodbye?"
Melvin's smile faded, replaced with confusion. "Goodbye? Are you leaving the city or something?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just going back home. You know, I was at the party last night. I ended up staying out with Damian in his car."
Melvin's body tensed. He glanced toward the car again, his jaw tightening. "Damian? He didn't… do anything bad to you, did he?"
Alice laughed, a hollow, cynical sound. "Oh, nothing happened. We just talked. He was too drunk to drive, so we fell asleep in his car. That's all." She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's no big deal."
Melvin stared at her for a moment longer, a strange, possessive look in his eyes. Then he nodded, a small, defeated nod. "You're lucky you found a guy like him to look out for you."
"Lucky?" Alice scoffed. "We're not dating. We're just acquaintances."
"What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked, his voice softer now.
"I was just getting a drink. I'm really thirsty," she said, turning away from him to grab a bottle of water from the cooler. She smiled and gave him a little wave. "Anyway, it was good seeing you, Melvin. Take care."
"Bye, Alice," he said softly.
She didn't look back. She walked out of the store, her heart pounding, and got back in Damian's car, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.
Damian was looking at her from the driver's seat, his expression unreadable. "What did you talk about?"
"None of your business," she snapped, turning her gaze out the window. She was still shaking. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to meet them. The last thing she needed right now was a lecture from him.
To his credit, he didn't pry. He just started the engine and pulled away, leaving the pit stop and Melvin—and Nathan—behind.
They drove in a tense, heavy silence. After a few minutes, he pulled the car over a few blocks away from her house.
"Here we are," he said simply.
Alice gathered her things in silence. "Thanks for the ride," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He just gave her a small wave, his face impassive. "Yeah. No problem."
She got out and started walking up the street, her knees weak. After a few steps, she turned back. His car was still there. He was still sitting in the driver's seat, watching her to make sure she got inside.
She quickly looked away and hurried up the path to her front door.
The house was quiet when she walked in. Too quiet. It was the calm before the storm. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a piece of toast, a coffee mug in his hand. He looked up when she entered, his eyes cold and hard.
"Where were you all night?" he asked, his voice dangerously calm.
"I was at a friend's house," Alice said carefully. "After the party was over."
"Why didn't you take my calls?"
"My phone died."
He slammed his fist on the table, making her jump. "What were you doing after your battery got full? You weren't charging it all night?"
"I… I forgot to plug it back in until late. I must have fallen asleep."
"Are you fucking with me?" he shouted, his face reddening with rage. He looked at her with pure disgust, his eyes scanning her with contempt. "What did you do? Did you get drunk? Did you sleep with someone?"
"No, Dad," she said, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes fixed on her feet. "I didn't do anything illegal."
He scoffed. "Didn't do anything illegal. Right." He stood up and paced the kitchen, his anger palpable. "Your mother has been going crazy since you left. She's been hysterical. I had to force her to take some pills just so she'd calm down and go to sleep."
He grabbed a plate from the table and smashed it on the floor. The shards flew everywhere, a sharp, violent sound that sliced through the air. "I am fucking done with you and your mother!" he yelled. He grabbed his coat and stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him.
Alice stood there, frozen, tears burning in her eyes. The silence was deafening. She let out a shaky breath and walked up the stairs, her legs trembling.
She peeked into her parents' bedroom. Her mother was lying in the dark, fast asleep, her face peaceful. She was okay. Alice crept into her own room, throwing her things on the floor. She collapsed onto her bed and pulled out her phone.
The screen was flooded with notifications. More than fifty missed calls from her mom and dad. She'd deal with that later. She scrolled through her messages, her blood running cold.
There were dozens of texts. Hundreds. From kids at school. From friends. And they all led to the same thing: a link. The thumbnail was blurred, but she knew what it was. It was her. Her and Damian. Last night. Photos of them kissing, their faces close together, manipulated and fabricated. They were deepfakes. Someone had used AI to create realistic, compromising videos of them and circulated them online.
She felt sick. Her hands were trembling as she scrolled through them, reading the comments, the disgusting, degrading things people were saying about her. Grace. It was Grace Walker. She had taken the photos from the party, used AI to doctor them, and posted them on a porn site. She had even gone as far as to send them to half the school.
She saw a thread in a group chat. Boys were sharing the links, laughing, making crude jokes. Her phone was buzzing with notifications from classmates, asking if it was real. The humiliation burned hotter than anything she'd ever felt.
But then, the shock wore off. The helplessness faded. And a cold, hard fury took its place. They wanted to burn her? Fine. She'd burn them back.
Alice opened her photo gallery and found the folder she'd been saving, just in case. Photos of Sophia and Grace. Real photos. Texts they'd sent to her in confidence, videos of their own private moments, and messages from boys who thought they were untouchable, showing off for each other in the group chats.
She started posting. She created new accounts, burner accounts, and began circulating the real photos and videos of Sophia and Grace on social media. Then, she shared a message on every school group chat she could find, using a disposable account:
"This is what happens when you bully and lie. Remove all the adult photos and videos, or your friends are going to be next."
Within 24 hours, most of the videos and photos of her were gone. A few remained, hidden in a couple of boys' group chats. But Alice was prepared. She leaked the chats themselves. She released their private conversations, showing their racist jokes, their bullying, and their nude photos. She posted screenshots of messages containing their dick pics next to their full name.
It took only 10 minutes for the boys to surrender. They begged her to take it down. They couldn't handle the heat coming back at them.
Alice didn't feel a shred of regret. It was simple psychology. They had started a fire, they were ought to get burned. She hadn't fallen victim to it. She had fought back.
Her phone rang. It was Mia.
"What the fuck happened, Alice?!" she screamed. "My parents are freaking out! People are talking about a school-wide hack! Are you okay?"
"It's probably a large-scale cyber attack," Alice said calmly, shrugging. "I guess whoever downloaded my photos and videos ended up getting a virus. Thank God they're all gone, right?"
Mia sounded disturbed. "Alice, I think something really bad is going on. My feed is full of it."
"I'm sure it'll blow over," Alice said flatly. "People will find something else to be outraged about soon enough." She ended the call and threw her phone on the bed.
The next day at school, everything was chaos. The principal had called Alice into his office. He sat behind his desk, his face a mask of stern disapproval.
"Alice Hart," he said, his voice cold and formal. "I'm very disappointed in you. Your behavior at the party was completely unacceptable. I'm going to have to suspend you. In fact, I think we're going to have to have a serious discussion about whether Westbridge High is the right place for you."
Alice sat perfectly still in the chair opposite him. She didn't flinch. She didn't cry.
"Sir," she said, her voice calm and measured, "I think you need to be aware that our school was the victim of a cyberattack last night. And my photos and videos were not the only ones that got leaked."
She took out her phone, scrolled to a video file, and slid it across the desk. The principal stared at the screen. His face went white. The video showed his own daughter, Sophia Reed, in a school bathroom, making out with a male teacher.
His face contorted with shock. "This is… this is…"
Alice stood up. "I'm sure you'll understand why I need to take my phone back now. I'll see you in class, Principal Reed." She reached for her phone, but he snatched it away.
"You can have this back afterwards," he said, his voice shaking.
Alice gave him a polite, icy smile and walked out of his office.
That day, a dozen students were called into the principal's office. Among them were Grace Walker and Sophia Reed. Those who had fabricated the videos, who had sent them to porn sites, who had circulated them in chat groups. Emily Carter and a few other girls, and a handful of boys who had tried to sell the videos for money. They were all suspended for many months with a possibility of getting kicked out.
Grace and Sophia were removed from the school completely. After all, everyone knew it had all been Sophia's fault. She had orchestrated it. Her own father removed her from his school to save his own face and career. He fired the male teacher and kicked out few boys who had shown a history of criminal behavior and were trying to profit from this harassment in the boys chat group.
The rumors flew. Kids were terrified. They deleted everything from their phones. They were scared to even look at Alice in the hallway.
And Alice walked through the halls of Westbridge High, head held high. She had given them the taste of their own medicine.