SOPHIE
After the game, I don't cry in the parking lot the way I thought I might. I just stand there while River scrolls through my phone with the focus of someone defusing a bomb, screenshotting every version of the post before it can disappear.
"Fourteen," he mutters. "Fourteen screenshots and it's not even nine o'clock."
"Delete one and three more pop up," Avery says, watching over his shoulder. "It's like a hydra made of bad decisions."
"I'm reporting it Monday," I say, mostly to hear myself say it out loud. "First period. I'm not waiting around hoping it disappears on its own."
River hands my phone back. "Good. Document everything, feel later. That's the rule."
"That's always the rule with you."
"Because it works." He loops his arm through mine as we walk to his car. "You didn't
