I trailed off, watching her frantically hang up the
phone. I’d seen the name on the screen: Ethan.
She was trying so hard to turn him against me.
“You did that on purpose!” she snarled.
I shrugged. “Yep.”
Her hand trembled with rage. “Stop trying to
ruin my reputation!”
Jessica scoffed. “You still have a reputation?
After that simp list, and now you’re trying to
two–time Ethan? Give it up, Brittany. Rich guys
like Chad just play around. He’s not going to
marry someone with… baggage.”
Brittany, speechless, stormed out.
Lgave Jessica a high five “Raggage
Perfect
<
I gave Jessica a high–five. “Baggage.‘ Perfect
word choice.”
I thought Brittany might back off after that, but
she doubled down. She posted a new list on
Instagram: “Mean Girl Ranking.” I was “Sarah
W.“, Jessica was “Jessica T.“. She’d created a
detailed chart, critiquing our bodies, looks, even
our supposed “body odor” and personalities.
My label: “Ice Queen with a Secret.” Jessica’s:
“Wild Child.” Other girls she disliked were also
on the list.
The class exploded. Girls stormed our dorm
looking for Brittany, but she was gone. We
complained to the RA. He was dismissive. “She
didn’t use your full names. Don’t be so
sensitive. Focus on your studies. You’re seniors.
Do you have grad school plans? Job prospects?
No? And you’re wasting time on this petty
drama?”
Jessica stepped forward, ready to unleash on
<
him, but I held her back.
Back in the dorm, I said, “Arguing with him is pointless.”
70
Jessica slammed her fist on the table. “I can’t stand this anymore! She keeps doing this shit!”
I was angry too, but the angrier I got, the clearer I thought. The RA knew about Brittany’s recent demerit. Yet, he was still protecting her.
Why risk his job? Unless… he had something to gain.
Jessica’s eyes widened. “He’s sleeping with her.”
We discreetly followed Brittany for a few days. Finally, one afternoon, I got pictures of them
entering a hotel.
“Let’s report them!” Jessica said eagerly.
I shook my head. It wasn’t enough. “Then what?
Just take it?”
“Hell no.” I smiled grimly. “The RA’s married,
right?”
Jessica’s face lit up. Reporting them to the
university wouldn’t do much. Reporting them to
his wife? That was the ticket.
We tracked down the RA’s wife through his
social media. A comment on one of his posts: “Bring home some duck necks.” Her profile
picture was a selfie with him. I created a fake
account and sent her a friend request. She
accepted quickly. I sent her the pictures.
“Watch your husband.”
The photos weren’t conclusive proof, but they
were enough to plant a seed of doubt. It was
only a matter of time before she uncovered the
truth.
Brittany, emboldened, posted about living in a “toxic” and “jealous” environment. Ethan’s
glares became more frequent. Students
complained to the RA, but he brushed them off.
Brittany was trying to provoke us, but we
ignored her.
