Page 27 of Into Ruin

Oliviaand I sit on her bed in her St. James University dorm room. I’m wrapped in layers of blankets, around my back and up to the top of my head like a hood to shield me. A bowl of popcorn sits in my lap, and only one hand is unswathed to make the journey from the kernels to my mouth.

The Breakfast Clubplays on her laptop, but I don’t think either of us are watching it.

Instead, we’re focused on my phone.

I made a dummy account out of sheer desperation—regrettably paying four dollars to subscribe to my own page—and now we wait for the notification of a new post.

Ten o’clock approaches slowly, as if time knows what we’re waiting for and is dragging its heels. Every minute feels like five.

This morning, I brushed my teeth again to erase the taste of stomach bile, showered, and practically sprinted out of the empty house. I called for a ride, and it took me to St. James University, where I wandered until I found Olivia’s dorm.

The mood to shop at the mall or local thrift stores never appeared. Instead, I burst into tears as soon as Olivia opened her door, and she decided we were hunkering down on her campus all day.

I used her laptop to order a set of hangers, which will be delivered in two days. If I survive that long. We went to the library, hung out in the student center, and then made our way back to her room, where we now anxiously await ten o’clock.

The best thing that could’ve happened for the two of us was Olivia scoring a single room.

No nasty, sex-having roommate to kick her out.

Cynthia caused all this in the first place. She could’ve—why wasn’t she screwing her boyfriend inhisroom? No, of course it was ours. If I had just stayed in the common room, waited it out, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

Bywe, I mean me.

I wouldn’t be in this mess.

“I’m going to be sick,” I announce.

Olivia hops off the bed and grabs her trash can. She pulls out the liner and thrusts it at me. “No puking on my bed.”

I take it, gripping the lip hard. “This is going to be the worst thing ever.”

She grimaces. “Maybe no one will see it?”

I glare at her. I don’t know if he boosted that public post orwhat, but it has more than two thousand likes.Two thousand people have seen my ass.

“Maybe no one we know will see it,” she amends.

I release the trash can and bury my face in my hands. “Oh, this is the worst thing in the freaking world. Can you just kill me now?”

“I’d be too lonely without you.” She puts her arm around my shoulders. “It’ll be okay. No matter what happens.”

My phone dings with an incoming notification, and I suck in a fast breath. We both go still.

When I don’t move, Olivia asks, “Do you want me to…?”

“No.” I clear my throat and lift my head. “No, um, I’ll do it.”

“I’ll give you a minute.” She slips off the bed and snags her ID, and a second later, the door closes with a click behind her.

Okay.

My hands tremble, but I reach for the phone. Type in my password, then open the app. There’s a new post from—from me. From Camden. I take a breath, then another. Just the video—no caption, no tags. Nothing else except for that little lock icon on the top right, indicating it’s a private post for subscribers.

I press play.

It’s at a different angle than the photo posted before, but I’d guess it was the same night. It’s like the whole thing is staged. The bed in the empty room, the swath of light that cuts across my legs.

For a long moment, nothing happens. Then the screen goes fuzzy, like a glitch, and someone—Camden—is on top of me.

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