Page 11 of Only When It Breaks

The messages that follow are all similar. Mostly, guys sending high five emoji’s or the laughing faces. I stop on one from Austin saying TikTok viral, along with a screen shot of his page. The video has over thirty-thousand views already. I groan as I open it on the app, noticing it’s jumped to over a hundred thousand now.

I take a breath and open up the school WhatsApp. It’s mainly led by Bella and her crew, but everyone that matters are in it. I don’t have access as myself, but as Kai . . .

I type the message:

Saw the video of a girl getting mocked for a kiss. Just a reminder that humiliating people doesn’t make you cool - it makes you a walking red flag.Do better.

Then, I download the video onto Kai’s phone. It’s way better than mine, and I open the editing app. There, I zoom in on Austin’s face as he kisses Ava. His eyes are open, and his mouth moves like a goldfish. I slow it down for good measure and save the clip.

Next, I open up Kai’s TikTok and upload the video with the caption:

“When you’re 18 and still emotionally stunted.” I hit post with a grin on my face.

I share the two posts all over his socials. Facebook. Instagram. I even Snapchat it to his friends.

Fuck Austin. And fuck Kai.

Kai

I’m halfway through my second bowl of cereal and halfway through ignoring the group chat that’s continually pinging when Austin calls. I decline it. He calls again. And again.

On the fourth try, I answer with a groan. “What?”

“What the fuck, man. Aren’t we friends?”

“Huh?”

“It’s all over your socials. Prick.”

“What are you on about?” I shove my bowl away and grab my phone, thumb hovering over my Instagram. And there it is.

A story posted from my account: white text on a black screen, bold and brutal.

Saw the video of a girl getting mocked for a kiss. Just a reminder that humiliating people doesn’t make you cool - it makes you a walking red flag. Do better.

I blink. Once. Twice. “What the hell?” I mutter.

“It was just a bit of fun, and I didn’t see you jumping in to save her when I took her off. Posting that shaming nonsense like you’re bloody Gandhi. What happened to bros before-”

“You know I didn’t post that, right?”

“I mean, I get it. Good call, you’re getting love from every girl from here to America, but seriously, why did you do me dirty like that, man?”

“You’re not listening,” I snap. “Forget it.” I disconnect and begin to scroll through the rest of my socials.

An hour passes and the doorbell rings, dragging me from my comments section. Austin was right; this is golden. I’m being held a hero by girls I don’t even know. I jog downstairs to find Austin and Henry both on the doorstep, looking like they’ve just been expelled from Hogwarts.

Austin pushes inside first. “Mate, you’ve got to delete that post.”

“I didn’t make it.”

Henry scoffs. “It’s literally from your account.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out,” I snap. “But I didn’t post it. I don’t have my phone, remember. Whoever has it, posted all that.”

Austin paces, pulling at his hair. “Do you know how many people have seen it? Bella sent me a screenshot with, like,six crying laughing emojis. I’m going to be an effing joke.”

“Didn’t she put in on the bet?” I ask, frowning.

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