This time, I really have a valid reason for being away. Let's all, wherever we are, honor the life of the dad of my best friend, Viola DelMane (@ViolaDelM). He died three days ago from lung cancer and I was in a terrible mood, so I hope you all understand. May his soul rest in peace.

That weekend was the most boring weekend in the history of boring weekends. Bella stayed away from social media, sugar, and even TV.

The ache she felt from not having a phone to hold and call hers was unbelievable, and Cody refused to talk to her. She tried so many times to bring up a conversation with him, but he just looked away, uninterested. It stung to know that he was right about Travon but she was too stubborn to believe him.

The only time she interacted with someone on her laptop was on Saturday night, when Maggie-Lyn gave her a video-call. She wanted her opinion on two dresses she chose for girls' night—one knee length and bright yellow, and the other short, floral and bouncy.

"Which one literally says free-spirited and sophisticated?" she asked, holding up the two dresses by their hangers. "I have a cute belt that would literally go amazingly with this floral one, but there's this literally gorgeous pair of flats I got last week, and I've literally been dying to put it on. It's literally perfect with this yellow one."

Bella was distant as she listened to her cousin drone on and on about the love triangle she was in with her dresses, and Maggie-Lyn eventually noticed she wasn't paying complete attention. She put the dresses away, then sat cross-legged on her bed, closer to her laptop.

"Bella, are you, like, literally okay?" she asked, and Bella bit on her bottom lip and focused on the sparkly I'm Fabulous on the front of Maggie-Lyn's hot pink tank top.

She didn't want to talk about boys with her, so she said, "I'm fine. Ay-okay! I think you should go with the floral dress. The belt sounds great."

Maggie-Lyn gave her a look, but didn't push it, thankfully to Bella's benefit. She was mad at Travon, but didn't want to talk about him, scared she would stress eat if she did. Beau was on her mind, too; she kept wondering if he had seen the video.

Her weekend was pretty much uneventful. She even curled her hair to kill time, then immediately straightened it. Her hair hadn't looked that straight since Adele left for college.

On Monday morning, she had just walked out of Honors Math when Viola approached her with a deadly look on her face and a certain purpose in her steps.

Bella was already mentally coming up with what to say, but stopped at Hey, Viola when her ex-best friend got to her and, without missing a beat, slapped her hard across the face.

The force of it sent her head to the side, and she tasted copper almost immediately.

"How could you?" Viola cried, and Bella turned to her, pushing her hair back. One side of her lower lip stung and she didn't need a genius to tell her it was bleeding.

Viola's eyes strayed to her lips for a second, and she looked shocked, but her recovery came quick, and she continued. "So you knew. You knew, and all you did was send a stupid, petty text and call two stupid times. What the heck is wrong with you, Belinda?"

Bella tried to ignore the sting she felt at hearing Viola call her by her full name and opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but Viola held up a palm to silence her.

"You think I'm an excuse, right? You searched that ever-full box of excuses you have and, when you couldn't find anything suitable enough for your failure, you told everyone you were in a 'bad mood' because my dad died. You're such a hypocrite! You pretend to care about me when, in reality, you're just a self-absorbed—"

Viola stopped, tears suddenly spilling out of her eyes, but Bella could only focus on one thing. "Your dad died?" she weakly asked.

"Why are you doing this to me, Bella? What did I ever do to you to deserve this?" Viola's voice cracked at the end, and more tears rolled down her face.

Students had noticed something was wrong and had started gathering around them.

"Viola, I don't know what you're talking about." Tears stung at Bella's eyes too, but she tried to keep it under control.

Viola didn't say anything. Instead, she took out her phone and scrolled through it. Finally finding what she was looking for, she shoved the phone in Bella's face. "Deny it. Tell me you don't know about this."

Bella stared into the phone, her eyes wildly going over it. It was a tweet—a tweet she apparently posted. But how could that be? She wasn't on social media all weekend. The tweet said Viola's dad died three days ago, and Viola wasn't in school on Wednesday. She didn't pay attention to the day it was posted, but she knew it was on Saturday.

"V-Viola, I—I didn't... I didn't post this, I promise."

Viola shut her eyes in pain. "Stop lying to me, Bella. Please."

"I'm not lying to you. I'd never lie to you."

"Oh, really? Because you've been lying to me for ten years about my importance in your life." Her voice was beginning to sound angry again, and she wiped the tears from her face, but more spilled out of her eyes. "I know what you and Steph think of me, okay? I'm boring, not as awesome as she is. I know, okay?"

Bella froze. Only Amparo knew about that. As the realization of what was happening dawned on her, she began crying, too. "Viola—"

"I'm sorry, but this is it. It's over. I can't believe I was considering talking to you so we'd get back to how we were. I was just so blind and didn't see you for who you really are. I was just there to make you look better."

"Viola, please—"

"Shut up, I hate you!" With one hateful push to Bella, Viola walked away, the students parting when they saw her approaching.

Bella held onto the wall to steady herself, and she could see a few phones in her peripheral vision.

I'm not scared to share these secrets.

Her breathing was getting out of control, and there was a strange beating in her chest. Nothing was clear for a moment, and she just stood there, trying to steady her breathing.

She felt a hand on her arm, but she gently shrugged the hand off, then pushed past the students to go to the girls' bathroom.

Someone was messing with her, she could tell. But who? More importantly, why? Most importantly, how did they get into her Twitter account? Things had gotten so bad so fast and it was almost unreal.

In the bathroom mirror, she looked terrible. There was blood on her lower lip, the tip of her nose and her cheeks were red, and her eyes looked glassier.

She gripped the sink for a while, then turned the faucet on and began splashing water on her face. She heard footsteps behind her, but ignored it and rinsed blood out of her mouth.

When she lifted her head and looked in the mirror, she paused. There, in the mirror, standing in front of the second bathroom stall, was Amparo Cotton.

Amparo was watching her with a genuine look of concern, but Bella wasn't buying it. She had gotten what she wanted by telling Viola—however she managed to convince her—and now she would at least leave her alone. Amparo was sneaky and crafty, so Bella wouldn't be surprised if she found out that she had a recording of the conversation she had with Stephanie.

"Bella, are you okay?" Amparo asked.

Bella stared at her reflection in the mirror for a while, then said, "Like you care."

Amparo stopped, focusing on Bella's back. Then, after a few seconds of silence, she said, "You're right. I don't care."

She came up beside her, washed her hands, then exited the bathroom, leaving Bella alone.

* * *

As she expected, the video of her and Viola's fight was uploaded, and the comments were brutal.

"Excuse me. Sorry, you posted that you were in a bad mood after Viola's dad's death. But, if you were, what about the video of you and Travon? Where do we place that?" Cami, the girl who took the photo of her and Travon at the ice cream place, asked her during lunch, sitting directly across from her without an invitation, and placing an open notebook and pencil on the table.

Bella didn't give her an answer. Instead, she grabbed her tray and went to the bleachers. It wasn't the safest option, but she wasn't thinking straight enough to realize that.

She couldn't wait to get home, and, immediately the last bell rang, she quickly left class and went to her locker. She had never hated school this much in her life. It was becoming more and more of a horror show to her.

"Hey, Bella, can I talk to you?"

She turned to Beau when she heard his voice, and when his expression changed after seeing her face, she quickly turned back to her locker. She ran a hand through her hair, then smoothened it so it hid the side of her face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and she nodded a bit too soon. "Are you sure? Look at me." He tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her face.

"I'm fine, Beau," she said, but he wasn't buying it.

"What happened? You look like you've been crying."

"Um, yeah. I bit my tongue during lunch and it really hurt."

"What about your lip, then?" A teasing smile was on Beau's face. "And I think lunch is too far away for you to still look this... fresh in tears."

She began organizing her already organized locker, ignoring him.

"Bella, I'm serious."

She stopped, then finally turned to him, and he curiously lifted his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to explain.

When she still didn't say anything, he said, "Belinda Quincy, let's make an agreement. Let's agree right here, right now, to always tell each other when something's up. I don't want last week repeating itself. Fighting with you isn't something I want to do again."

It was Bella's turn to watch him. He was asking for quite a lot, and she wasn't completely sure she could make a promise like that and keep it.

Beau stretched his palm out to her. "Agreed? No pressure, okay?"

She stared at his hand for a long time, almost making him withdraw it in defeat, then finally placed her hand in his. "Agreed."

He smiled. "Now start by telling me what's wrong?"

Her eyes welled up without her permission and, instead of telling Beau anything, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. She buried her face in his chest and just tried to keep the tears in, and he held her for as long as she wanted.

"Viola and I," she said after a while. "We fought. A big fight. I don't think we're getting back together."

He tightened his hold on her, but didn't say anything, and she gently pulled away from him and wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry. What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked, sniffling.

Beau still watched her, wanting to see if she was ready to hear what he was about to say, and she could already sense what he wanted to talk about.

"It's about Travon, actually."

She drew in a sharp breath, despite seeing it coming, then nodded. "Okay."

"I've been hearing some things, and I didn't want to just believe the rumors, so I thought I'd ask you myself."

"You... want to know if we're together?"

"No. I know you're not together. It's something else." He took a small pause. "Did he... force you or anything?"

She shook her head. "No. No, he didn't. It just... it just happened." This is the most embarrassing conversation ever.

"I also heard he did it on purpose, and I don't think that's a lie."

"Yeah. Cody told me." She withheld information about the contract.

"I guess that explains his black eye," he mumbled. "Bella, I have to go talk to him."

"No." He gave her a look, as if saying, what? "No, you won't talk to him. Please."

"I have to, Bella. What he did to you was wrong—"

"I know, but please." She took his hand. "Please. Just let it slide."

"I know what you're thinking, but I promise you that I won't hurt him if he doesn't make me. I'm sorry, I have to go."

Beau released his hand, then walked away, not giving her a chance to protest. The last thing Bella wanted was him getting into a fight because of her, and she wasn't trying to defend Travon—because he was a big jerk—but one black eye was enough in her opinion.

She leaned her head against the locker beside hers and shut her eyes. "Oh no," she groaned.