Chapter 2

The voices fade down the hallway.

I open Tiffany's video again. Numb. I hit report. I file every complaint the app will let me. Then I drag myself to work.

The second I walk into the lobby, every head turns. Whispers. Snickers.

"Did you SEE that video? Serena's a total slob at home. Flossing like a redneck."

"Slob? Girl's got an exhibitionist streak. Remember how she was always adjusting her bra in the office? Now it makes sense."

"Wow. She always seemed so quiet. Guess it's the quiet ones."

Every word feels like a needle in my skin.

I count the minutes until five o'clock.

I get home and Tiffany is sitting on MY couch. In MY living room.

She stands up when she sees me. Eyes red. Bottom lip trembling. The whole Oscar-worthy performance.

"Serena, why did you report my video? I studied film abroad for five years. I just got back. I NEED this to prove myself."

"The video's blowing up. The ad money is huge. If you get it taken down, everything I worked for is gone."

"I know I should've told you first. I'm sorry. But please. Please stop reporting me."

I say nothing.

Preston stands next to her, arms crossed, cold as ice.

"Serena. Enough. She apologized. What more do you want?"

"I don't accept her apology."

I walk past both of them into the bedroom. I pack a bag. Then I walk back out and shove the divorce papers into Preston's chest.

"What is this?"

"Divorce papers."

His face goes dark.

"Are you SERIOUSLY blowing this up over nothing?"

I don't argue. I just leave the papers in his hands and walk out. I don't look back.

I move into Mom's place.

Next morning, Preston shows up at her door.

"Serena. Are you done throwing your fit?"

He pinches the bridge of his nose like I'm exhausting him.

"Tiff's a wreck. She thinks you hate her. She hasn't eaten in two days."

"She apologized. Why can't you just let it go for once?"

Let it go.

So that's how it is. My face doesn't matter. My dignity doesn't matter. Only Tiffany matters. As long as she's happy, I'm supposed to swallow everything.

"Why should I?"

I look him dead in the eye. "Preston. I'm not backing down. Nine AM tomorrow. Courthouse. Be there."

I turn and walk into my room.

He sits on the couch for a while. Then, without a word, he leaves.

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