“She’ll just walk away.”
Brooke smiled.
“Then we don’t let her.”
Kara later admitted that sentence during the school investigation.
At the time, she laughed.
That became one of the things she regretted most.
Brooke began planning.
She wanted Alana to look controlling.
The online narrative would be simple: the girl who “got Brooke suspended” could not handle being questioned herself. Brooke planned to confront her publicly about Noah, accuse her of exaggerating what happened, and keep the camera close enough to provoke irritation.
If Alana yelled, good.
If she grabbed the phone, even better.
Brooke’s friends would record from farther away so they could capture both girls.
Nobody discussed what would happen if Alana simply left.
Brooke assumed she could keep her there.
The first attempt failed because Alana went home sick.
The second failed when a teacher remained beside the lockers.
By then, Kara had begun feeling uncomfortable.
“This is getting weird.”
Brooke looked at her.
“You suggested it.”
“I suggested asking questions.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“You’ve been waiting three days to catch her alone.”
Brooke rolled her eyes.
“You’re being dramatic.”
Maybe Kara was.
But she stopped helping.
Another friend, Sophie Lane, took her place.
Wednesday morning, Brooke saw Alana enter chemistry.
She checked the schedule.
Alana’s class ended at 11:15.
Brooke positioned herself near the senior lockers with Sophie behind her.
She bought an iced caramel coffee from the student café because carrying one had become almost part of her appearance.
At 11:17, Alana entered the hall.
Brooke started recording.
Alana opened her locker.
The first twenty seconds were uneventful.
Brooke whispered commentary toward the phone.
“There she is.”
Sophie covered a laugh.
Brooke moved closer.
Alana pulled out a notebook.
Still nothing.
Brooke raised the phone.
“Hey, Alana.”
No response.
She tried again.
“Alana.”
This time Alana turned slightly.
Brooke smiled at the camera.
“Say hi.”
Alana finally looked directly at the phone.
Her expression changed.
She glanced at Sophie.
Then back at Brooke.
“Are you recording me?”
Brooke smiled.
“We’re talking.”
“No.”
Alana closed the locker.
“You’re recording.”
“It’s a hallway.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Brooke lifted the phone slightly.
“Why are you scared of a camera?”
Alana looked at her for several seconds.
Then reached toward her locker again.
“I’m not doing this.”
She placed one notebook under her arm.
Brooke stepped closer.
“Doing what?”
“Whatever this is.”
“Why?”
Alana closed the locker door.
“Because I said no.”
Brooke laughed.
“That didn’t matter when you were talking about me.”
Alana stopped.
There it was.
The real reason.
She turned fully.
“Noah asked you to stop filming.”
“Here we go.”
“You posted him anyway.”
“I’m asking about you.”
“You’re not asking anything.”
Brooke smiled toward the phone.
“See what I mean?”
Alana stared.
“Turn it off.”
“No.”
Sophie laughed behind them.
Alana picked up her backpack.
“Fine.”
She started walking.
Brooke moved sideways.
Not enough to trap her completely.
Enough to remain in front.
“You always run away when somebody questions you.”
Alana frowned.
“I have class.”
“You’ve got six minutes.”
“You memorized my schedule?”
Sophie stopped laughing.
Brooke’s smile faltered.
Alana shook her head.
“That’s weird.”
She stepped around.
Brooke grabbed lightly at her sleeve.
Alana pulled free immediately.
“Don’t touch me.”
Brooke raised both hands.
“I barely touched you.”
“Then it should be easy not to do again.”
Students farther down the hallway had begun watching.
A few stopped.
Brooke noticed the audience.
Her original plan depended on Alana becoming angry.
Instead, Brooke was beginning to look strange.
That made her reckless.
“You know everyone thinks you’re fake, right?”
Alana looked at her.
“Okay.”
“You act all calm because teachers love you.”
“Okay.”
“You ruined my portfolio.”
“Okay.”
Brooke lowered the phone slightly.
“Say something else.”
Alana almost smiled.
“No.”
A student nearby laughed.
Brooke heard it.
Her face changed.
She stepped forward.
“You think this is funny?”
Alana’s expression became serious.
“I think you should stop.”
“Make me.”
“No.”
Alana moved toward the lockers, trying to pass on Brooke’s other side.
Brooke reached across with the hand holding the iced drink.
Alana blocked the arm instinctively.
The plastic cup tilted.
Coffee splashed onto Brooke’s sleeve.
She gasped.
“You did that on purpose!”
Alana immediately released her.
“You reached at me.”
Brooke stared at the stain.
Then swung.
The first strike came with the drink still in her hand.
Alana raised an arm.
Her forearm caught Brooke’s wrist before the cup reached her face.
More coffee exploded through the lid.
It poured down Brooke’s gray cropped sweatshirt and across the front of her black leggings.
Students shouted.
The phone remained in Brooke’s other hand.
Still recording.
Alana stepped backward.
“Stop.”
Brooke looked down at herself.
Brown liquid ran down one leg.
Her humiliation was now happening on her own camera.
She lunged.
Alana caught the wrist again.
“Brooke!”
“Let go!”
“You’re swinging at me!”
“Get off me!”
Alana released her.
Brooke immediately came forward.
She tried to shove Alana with her shoulder.
Alana moved aside.
Brooke stumbled.
Recovered.
Sophie shouted from behind them.
“Brooke, stop!”
Brooke ignored her.
She swung again.
Alana blocked.
Brooke tried to grab her leather jacket.
Alana pulled free.
Another student yelled for a teacher.
The hallway had become a circle of phones.
For one second, Alana saw all of them.
That frightened her more than Brooke did.
She knew exactly how a video could be edited.
She knew someone could start the clip at any moment they wanted.
Alana backed away again.
“I’m not fighting you.”
Brooke shouted, “You already are!”
Then she rushed forward.
Her white sneaker came down on a patch of spilled coffee.
The sole slipped.
Brooke grabbed toward Alana to keep from falling.
Alana caught her forearm.
For half a second, both girls were off balance.