It got worse.
One afternoon, Sara came up to me, guilt written all over her face.
"I… I accidentally told Aisha what you said about her," she whispered.
"What?" I froze.
"I didn't mean to! She saw my texts, and I couldn't lie—"
But it was too late. The next day, Aisha was all over the class, making sure everyone heard her version of what I'd said.
"She's been talking about all of you behind your backs," Aisha announced loudly one morning. "Pretending to be sweet, but really? She just wants everyone to feel sorry for her."
I stood there, stunned, my face burning.