“This is insane! A setup!” She looked around frantically, begging with her eyes for someone, anyone, to intervene. Nothing. Silence. Even her old high school clique stood frozen, faces blank. Everyone saw her now. Not the Queen Bee. Just a thief. A liar. A fraud. Rotten underneath the shine.
Trina’s Last Stand & Collateral Damage
The officer gently took her arm. But Trina wasn’t done. She yanked away, spun towards the crowd, face contorted. “You’re all a bunch of fakes!” she screamed, voice cracking. “You laughed at her too! Don’t pretend you were better! You called her names! You played along!”
People shifted uncomfortably. Ian, the guy from chem class, stared at his shoes. I remembered him laughing when Trina dumped soup on my textbooks.
She pointed at a woman near the bar. “Danielle! You made those lice posters! Don’t act brand new!” Danielle flushed scarlet, turned away.
She pointed at another guy. “Wes! Didn’t you text me pictures of her eating alone? ‘Roach feeding time?’ You think I forgot? You think she forgot?!”
Silence. Thick with guilt. I hadn’t forgotten. Just never expected to hear it acknowledged.
“You all used me to feel better about yourselves!” Trina shrieked, tears and mascara streaming. “Now you act like heroes ’cause I got caught! F* you! All of you!**”
The officer gently guided her again. “That’s enough, ma’am.” As they led her out, the room stayed quiet, stunned. She’d exposed not just her own rottenness, but the complicity of the crowd. Danielle left quickly. Wes slipped out a side door.
Ten minutes later, another figure appeared. A short woman, graying hair, tear-streaked face. Looked exhausted, broken. “Is… is Trina gone?” she asked the room. Someone nodded. She walked in slowly. “I’m her mother.”
