"Did you see that clip? She's on the top feed!" a boy shouted, and phones popped up like paper plates. "Play it, play it," someone yelled. "Wait—don't ruin it, post it to the story," a girl said, thumb already moving. "Who filmed it?" another voice asked. "Riverside girl. Classic," a boy sneered. I pushed through the knot of bodies. "Let me see." They parted like a sea, not friendly, not curious—hungry. A phone screen flashed. Ten seconds started. "Look at her face," the crowd chuckled. "She deserves it," said a voice I knew. Bianca's laugh, sharp. "She thinks she's better because she studies," someone added, which was wrong. I studied because I had to. "She cried," the clip claimed, but the video only showed a laugh track and a hand pushing a book from my locker. The text overlay read: "Riverside ruins Elite." "That's staged," I said. "You're biased," the boy with the top feed account said. He already had fifteen comments. Two were threats. One was a coupon for a lawyer. "Who uploaded that?" I demanded. "It just blew up," someone answered. "GossipPage uploaded it. Top feed in two minutes. People are spamming 'expose' tags." "Remove it," I said. "No one removes anything," Bianca said from the far side, smirking. "Not even you, Lara." "I want the original," I said. "You want the original? Cute," she replied. "Get one of your little friends to dig." "Don't talk about my friends