Bella's phone buzzed again.
And again.
The sharp vibrations stirred her from sleep, each one a fresh jolt. At first, she didn't open her eyes—her mind was thick with the weight of yesterday. Her mum. The accident. The hospital. The photos she took.
The photos.
Her eyes snapped open.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
She sat up fast. Her phone was still going off—notifications pouring in like a dam had broken overnight. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Her lock screen was chaos:
47 missed calls, 28 messages…
You were tagged in 5 new posts.
Your name was mentioned in 11 comments.
The notifications kept pouring in.
She unlocked her phone with trembling fingers.
iMessage – Kyra (3:21 AM)
Bella, wake up!
Delete your Insta NOW.
Your nude is literally EVERYWHERE!!
Peter (4:03 AM)
What the hell, Bella?
I wake up and the first thing I see is your p***y staring at me. Why would you post that? Are you insane?
Her blood went cold.
Instagram: Tag from @teen_talk_
"Student from Brookside High sends boyfriend 'private pics'—gets shared and exposed! Exclusive screenshots here ⬇️
#BrooksideScandal #BellaR"
She dropped the phone like it burned her.
Her breath came in shallow gasps. She reached down with trembling fingers, picked it up again, and forced herself to tap on the Instagram tag. Her photo—the photo Mira took—the one she swore she'd only send to Liam—was cropped, filtered, blurred at the corners, but unmistakably her. The caption was crude, lewd. The comment section was worse.
Knew she was desperate.
She's not even all that.
Liam dumped her already, lol.
Imagine being that stupid.
Her name was being dragged through digital mud.
Comments from @cassie_bts
Girl, you should deactivate before you ruin your life.
Another comment: That's what you get for being thirsty. Smh.
Bella's stomach turned violently. She covered her mouth and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before throwing up.
She slumped to the cold tiles afterward, shivering, heart pounding.
How could this happen?
Liam.
He promised.
"And I fucking believed him! How could I have been so stupid?"
Her phone buzzed again on the floor where it had landed.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her hand moved on its own, grabbing the phone. Her fingers were slippery with sweat. She went to her call log, thumb hovering over Liam's name.
One ring. Two. Three. Four. Voicemail.
Again.
Again.
On the sixth try, the call connected.
His voice was groggy, annoyed. "What the hell, Bella?"
She froze for half a second, stunned by his tone. "Liam?"
"No, it's the president. What do you want? It's not even six. Why the hell are you blowing up my phone?"
Her voice cracked. "The picture. My picture… it's all over Instagram. And WhatsApp. It's everywhere, Liam."
Silence.
Then a careless sniff. "Yeah. Saw it."
"'Saw it'?" she repeated. "You're the only one I sent it to last night! Now it's everywhere. My classmates, the entire school—my teacher follows me. What the hell did you do?!"
He let out a sharp breath. "Jesus, Bella. Relax."
"Relax?" she whispered. Her voice rose, raw and hysterical. "My naked body is trending and you want me to relax?"
"You're being dramatic."
"I trusted you!" she shouted, her hand gripping the phone so hard her knuckles paled. "You promised—you begged me to send it. I only did it because you—because you said you loved me."
A harsh laugh rang through the speaker. "God, you're still on that?"
She went cold. "What?"
"You really thought I meant all that?" he said, snickering. "That's cute."
"Liam…"
"You were fun," he went on, ignoring her broken whisper. "But come on, Bella. You're not exactly hard to figure out. Say a few sweet things, pretend I care, and bam—you're mine. You were so eager to show me your naked body, weren't you?"
"I was so what?!—"
"Oh, please," he said, voice dropping with venom. "You posed like you wanted it on a billboard."
Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Why?"
"I didn't post it," he said, slow and taunting. "It just… got out."
"Got out?" she repeated, stunned.
He chuckled. "Maybe someone screen-recorded it. Maybe it got forwarded. Maybe I showed a few people. Who knows? Chill."
Her mouth fell open. "You—you showed people?"
He sighed again, like she was annoying him. "It's not a big deal. Everyone sends nudes these days. You're not special."
Bella's vision blurred. "I trusted you, Liam."
He laughed then. Hard. Unapologetic.
"You're cute, Bella. A little desperate, but cute."
"Desperate?" she whispered. "You begged me. You practically threatened me to send them."
"Yeah, and it worked, didn't it?"
His tone was cruel now. Cutting. "You pose and take pictures like some little porn star."
Her voice cracked. "You've ruined me and you call me a porn star?"
"Shut up, please. You ruined yourself."
Bella's breath caught—pain swelled in her chest, raw and bitter like acid. Worse than pain. It was shame."
"You're disgusting."
"And you're pathetic," he replied coldly. "You think this is the worst thing that'll ever happen to you? Grow up. People will forget about it in a week. Or not. Either way, not my problem."
He yawned.
Then he added, "Now stop calling me."
The line went dead.
Bella stared at the screen, her reflection swimming behind the cracks of the glass. She dropped the phone again—then she broke.
There, on the bathroom tiles, her body crumpled. Silent sobs tore through her until her chest ached, her eyes stung, and everything around her blurred.
A knock suddenly landed on her door.
A voice called. "Bella? You okay in there?"
Mum.
Oh God.
She scrambled to her closet and threw on a hoodie, covering her head, tugging the sleeves over her hands. She paced the room like she could outwalk her panic.
Her mouth opened, but no words came. She glanced at her reflection—pale, wrecked, her eyes red.
"Just… tired," she croaked.
A pause. "You sure?"
Bella swallowed. "Yeah."
She heard her mum's quiet footsteps retreat down the hall. Her heart fractured a little more.
Her screen lit up again.
Unknown Number (6:12 AM)
A message came in, just one word…
SLUT.
Everyone knew.
She powered her phone off and sank onto the bed, curled up with her knees to her chest.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent and endless.
Outside her window, the sun was rising. But inside her room, everything felt darker than ever before.
The shame didn't vanish.
---
Three days later…
"Bella," her mum called from the hallway. "You're going to be late."
Bella curled deeper under her blanket, eyes open but unmoving.
The knock came again.
"Bella. Come on. This is the third day you're trying to pull this. You're not sick."
"I don't feel good," she said quietly.
The door cracked open. Her mother, dressed in navy slacks and a pale blouse, stepped inside, arms folded. "You don't feel good? Again?"
Bella nodded without looking up.
"I made you tea. You didn't touch it. You skipped dinner last night. You barely eat these days, you've been in this room since God knows when. Are you going to keep hiding under that blanket forever?"
Bella still didn't look at her. "I just… I don't want to go."
"That's not an answer, Bella. You're not giving me anything to work with."
Silence.
Her mum sighed. "I've called in the school nurse. There's no fever, no cough, nothing. I'm trying to be patient here, but it's like you're hiding something."
Bella clenched her jaw. Her throat itched from holding back too much.
Her mother took a breath and sat at the edge of the bed. "Bella. Talk to me. Is someone bothering you? A teacher? A friend? Is it Liam?"
At that, Bella turned away and pulled the blanket tighter.
"Okay, that's it." Her mother stood up. "We had this conversation already yesterday. You're going to school today. Get dressed immediately."
"Mum—!"
"I'm serious." Her voice was firm now. "I don't know what game you're playing, but this isn't happening again. You're going. Get up. Now."
Bella hesitated, hands trembling beneath the sheets.
"I'll wait downstairs. You've got five minutes."
---
The car ride was tense.
Bella sat curled in the passenger seat, her face tilted toward the window. Her mother kept glancing sideways at her, drumming fingers impatiently against the steering wheel.
"I don't know what's going on with you," she said finally. "But whatever it is, hiding at home isn't the solution. If someone hurt you—"
"No one hurt me," Bella muttered.
"Then what is it?"
Bella shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."
Her mother's voice tightened. "Try me."
Bella didn't answer.
They pulled up at the school gate. Her mum sighed, pulled the gear into park, and turned to her.
"You're my daughter, Bella. I'll always fight for you. But I can't protect you from something I don't know."
Bella's lips parted, but no words came. Her mother reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You're strong. Whatever this is, we'll deal with it. Together."
Bella nodded faintly.
"Now go. I'll pick you up after work."
She got out slowly, hoisting her backpack and adjusting the hoodie over her head. The sun was bright and cold. She didn't look back as her mum drove off.
---
Inside the school, she kept her eyes low and walked as fast as her legs could carry.
"Slut!"
"How do you have so many stretch marks and still take such photos?"
"Sending photos with your face? Must be dumb, fr."
"Lil Miss Pornyyy," another called in a singsong voice.
Everyone laughed at her.
She finally managed to slip into her classroom.
Bella took the last seat by the window. She stared down at her lap, willing the world to disappear.
But it didn't.
Twenty minutes into the first period, a knock came at the classroom door. The teacher paused mid-sentence.
"Yes?"
The door creaked open. It was the secretary, Ms. Asha.
"Sorry to interrupt. Bella Rivers — the principal would like to see you. Now."
Bella froze. Her stomach turned to stone.
"Bella?" the teacher prompted gently.
She stood slowly. The walk to the front of the class felt longer than it should have. Her legs were jelly. Her hands were cold.
She followed Ms. Asha through the hallway until they reached the principal's office.
The secretary knocked once, then opened the door and ushered her in.
Principal Morris sat behind his desk, his face stern. The school counselor and her form teacher sat facing her.
Bella stepped inside, barely breathing.
Principal Morris didn't offer her a seat.
"Bella," he began, his voice grave. "We received a report some days ago regarding… some deeply inappropriate material that was shared across the school WhatsApp group."
Bella's knees buckled slightly.
"A number of students have confirmed the image originated from your phone."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"We understand this may have been a private photo sent under pressure — but as per the school's code of conduct, explicit content involving students is grounds for immediate expulsion."
"No—" Bella whispered.
"Please understand," the counselor cut in gently, "this doesn't define who you are, Bella. But we have a responsibility—"
"You're expelling me?" Her voice cracked, wild with disbelief.
"We'll be contacting your parents," Principal Morris said. "Effective immediately, you're dismissed from attending further classes."
Bella stared at them. Numb. Trembling. Her world shattered into glass.
She turned and walked out of the office, the door clicking softly behind her.
Splat!
Something cold and wet exploded against her face.