Monday has come, and so the day of truth. If Tre brings me his so-called evidence of Ashlea's plot against me as a set up over the infamous nearly cancelled quiz, he's a hero. If, however, he has bluffed, I'll make sure he gets ruined the same way I did with the others, no exceptions.

I reach the parking lot, where he waits for me with his backpack on only one shoulder. "You're late, Rieleigh," he points out. Gosh, I shouldn't have wasted so much time by the lockers.

"It doesn't matter, though. Ashlea and Hope are already gone, and Meghan hasn't shown up to school since your last fight in the canteen." Good to know. This means there are no more excuses. Either he has the proof, or he's a foolish villain.

He takes his backpack off his shoulder, opens it and extracts a black file. He hands it to me. "Open it. I've printed everything. You can check for yourself." I do as he tells me and open the file. There are fifteen printed papers. All of them consists of screenshots of Ashlea's material containing corrupted data.

In other words, she created a document with fake quiz questions and saved it in multiple copies in all the school's servers, naming it 'quiz-2025-03-28.' It caused panic throughout the entire senior year, with teachers suspecting me because of her treacherous word.

Tre's evidence also shows how Ashlea attempted to mess up my IT homework, trying to swap my well-done assignments for her sloppy ones. Teachers wouldn't notice because I'd inadvertently fix mistakes on the latter, believing I'd get them wrong due to miscalculations or to Ella's doing.

"Tre, you're a life saver. Ashlea is toast. The Burden of Breaking Hearts is done." I pronounce these words with a smile dripping confidence at every sound, which Tre approves of. As I take everything with me, our paths separate for the day.

***

The moment I post the papers Tre handed me hours ago on all social media platforms I know, trepidation rises inside me. So far, no-one has left meaningful comments yet, just spam. I have to wait if I want to see concrete results.

Meanwhile, I go out for dinner with my family. It's been ages since the last time it happened... in September, I think. Wow, this senior year has flown by much faster than I thought. I should be thinking about college acceptance letters, but I'd like to believe my cause is worth fighting for and will actually benefit the rest of the school.

For once, however, I let go of the Club and anything involving it. Mom asks me, "Have you thought of how to spend your summer holidays, Rieleigh? I mean, it's the last one before college, darling." She's right! How come haven't I planned anything yet? Oh, I've been completely absorbed by... that thing, yeah.

Therefore, all I can do is improvise an answer I myself am not very convinced by. "Well, I'm still working on it. I hope to find some last minute offers. You know, to save money and time planning."

Mom insists. "But you're not the kind of person who does everything last minute, Rieleigh. What changed?" It's like she doesn't know me well enough. I've made a lot of haphazard decisions throughout my school years. Even my so-called plan of destroying The Burden of Breaking Hearts is something I came up with on the spot, without thinking it out beforehand.

Since I don't want to create a scene, I just sigh. "I guess I can't waste much time if I want to snatch a good opportunity. Maybe I'll ask for advice starting from tomorrow."

Dad chimes in. He has mostly been silent during this dinner, to be fair. "That sounds a well thought idea," he says. "Let us know if and when you make a final decision." He then hands me a white envelope he's hidden to me for a while. "Open it."

I do as he says. Paying attention not to tear it apart, I slowly open the envelope. I find a letter inside, written on a computer and printed. Then, I recognize the crest of Grandview College. It's one of the universities I've optioned during the past two years. Even though I haven't toured it in person, but have only taken part in an online presentation, it has captured my interest.

I read the letter quickly until the most important part comes. 'We are pleased to inform you that your application to our institute, after being carefully reviewed by our board, has been accepted.' I guess I'll be off to Grandview from next autumn.

Ella congratulates with me. "I'm so proud of you, sis! You did it!" Unlike other circumstances, I feel the warmth of my family filling the atmosphere with joy and good vibes, which is all I need to move on with the next, exciting chapter of my life.

***

"Have you seen, Rieleigh?" asks Brix, waving her phone at me. Her TikTok feed is full of clips of students reacting to Ashlea's infamous move of attempting to get the quiz cancelled... and blame it on me. Indignation is the prevailing sentiment, mixed with anger, despair and a sprinkle of disgust.

"Hope Turpin is so disappointed that she has officially repudiated her and the Club as a whole. This leaves Ashlea on her own!" adds Tre, his chin up and his chest inflated in a triumphant pose.

I chuckle. "Good to know. She's one step closer to self-destruction. Honestly, I don't even know if I need to take action myself—it's bound to happen by itself."

"You're right, Rieleigh. Listen, about the end of the year ball, do you plan to crash it?" Tre's question isn't random. Whether Ashlea claps back will seal my purpose at the event. I have to admit I want to take a step back from all the drama, though. For once, I just want to have fun!

Therefore, I leave an unreadable answer. "Maybe. Who knows? For now, let's just see the course of action, and choose a good outfit. I don't want to look like a potato sack. I need advice!" I can't believe what I've just said. Weeks ago, I wouldn't talk to Peri, Brix or Tre anymore even if they were the last people on Earth.

It's not a sign things are going back to how they were before the major fallout due to the Club, but that our relationship is evolving. It's becoming more mature as we've grown aware of the damaging effects that entity has had on people, influencing them in such a negative way that it built walls around everyone and contributed to burning bridges.

Speaking of fashion advice for the ball, Brix says, "DM me when classes are over. I'll show you a few ideas." Thank God I haven't blocked her, driven by impulse.

The bell rings, which means it's time to move on with the next class. Oh, no. P.E. I hate it. Not because I'm a potato couch, but because of the teacher, to whom Ashlea has sucked up so much that they're almost buddies. Like, for real?

I try to see this class under another perspective, though. Maybe it's time Mr. Hines finally sees through her bootylicking ways and she's exposed for what she actually is: a backstabbing, conniving piece of fuming shit.