Chapter 5 The First Screenshot

The Service House is quieter at night, but it is never completely silent. Pipes hum behind the walls, someone down the hall laughs too loudly, then lowers their voice and the door closes softly. It is the kind of quiet where every small sound feels meant.

I sit on my bed with my shoes still on and replay the hallway in my head. Not all of it, just the parts that might matter later. The way Farrah never raised her voice and the way people hovered nearby without looking like they were listening. The way she said it was visible, like it was helpful advice instead of a warning.

I think I handled it well. I did not argue or stumble and I give her anything she could use against me, and that should count for something. My phone lights up beside me.

Krizzy: I’m adding you to the general class chat.

Krizzy: Don’t panic.

Krizzy: It’s for survival.

Before I can respond, another notification slides in.

You were added to FLETCHER ACADEMY SENIOR A.

I stare at it for a second longer than necessary. I have made it through the day without saying anything wrong. Joining a group chat should not feel harder than that, but it does. I opened it anyway—messages stack on top of each other so fast they blur.

Ava: Did anyone else see lunch today?

Matt: Which part, the scholarship seating plot twist?

Ava: Stop, I was trying to be respectful.

Matt: Respectful is boring.

My stomach tightens as I scroll up. There is a photo of the cafeteria, taken from an angle that makes everything look accidental. The Four sit at their usual table, the lighting is bright, flattering. Two seats down, slightly off center, I am visible if you zoom in and someone has circled it in red.

Rico: I swear that seat has been empty for three years.

Ava: It has not.

Rico: Not officially.

Krizzy: For the record, she was invited.

Matt: By who?

The typing bubble appears and disappears several times before anyone answers.

Lina: Isaac, obviously.

My thumb pauses over the screen.

Matt: That’s interesting.

Rico: He does not usually do random things.

Ava: Maybe he was feeling generous.

Matt: That would be new.

My chest feels tight, not because they are yelling, but because they are not. The tone is light, like this is entertainment. Like people at lunch were not breathing the same air as I was. I scroll further.

Unknown Number: Is she actually on scholarship?

Lina: Yes. Full.

Matt: Clara Smith, right?

Ava: That’s what the list said.

The name sits there in plain text. Clara Smith.

Krizzy: Can we not do this.

Rico: Do what?

Matt: We’re just talking. It’s a school.

Another message loads and a screenshot. It is a cropped image of the scholarship announcement email from last month. My name is highlighted in pale blue.

Clara Smith, Academic Excellence Award, Full Tuition. Underneath it, someone has added:

Scholarship +Lunch upgrade = Efficient.

My hands turn cold and the messages start stacking up.

Ava: That feels unnecessary.

Matt: It’s observational.

Rico: Patterns form quickly.

The word patterns settles heavier than the rest, like it was always waiting to be said.

Krizzy sends me a private message.

Krizzy: Say something.

Krizzy: They’re fishing.

Krizzy: If you stay quiet they’ll make up a narrative.

I switch back to the main chat and another message comes through.

Lina: I mean, Isaac didn’t look upset.

Matt: He never looks anything.

Rico: He chose her.

Now, the sentence lands heavier than the screenshot. He chose her.

My thumbs hover over the keypad and I tried to type. It was just seating but I erased it. I try again.

I didn’t ask to sit there. Delete.

If I explain, it sounds defensive and if I joke, it sounds ungrateful but if I ignore it, they keep going and more messages appear.

Unknown Number: Didn’t he already have a partner for the project?

Ava: No, he declined three people.

Matt: That’s worse.

I swallow.

Krizzy: Clara.

Krizzy: You’re letting them narrate.

I type again. It’s not that serious. I read it back and hate how small it sounds so I delete it before sending. The typing bubble appears under my name for half a second, then disappears. In the main chat, the screenshot is forwarded again.

Rico: For context.

Matt: Context is important.

The image shrinks and expands as more people react to it with laughing faces and neutral thumbs. My name is now searchable and if someone types Clara into the chat bar, it will pull up this thread. The photo, the highlight and the word scholarship attached to lunch, to Isaac, and to whatever story they decide next.

Krizzy: I can respond.

Krizzy: Just say the word.

I lock my phone for a second, stare at my reflection in the black screen, then unlock it again. The messages keep coming whether I watch them or not. If I push back, I become dramatic but if I defend myself, I confirm it matters and if I disappear, I let it settle without resistance.

In the hallway this afternoon, Farrah said people notice when someone new becomes visible. I did not think she meant this. My screen refreshes and a new message loads at the bottom of the thread.

Matt: Clara Smith— Scholarship.

The reactions start shifting.

Ava: That feels pointed.

Rico: It’s public information.

Lina: Guys.

Someone replies to the screenshot with a magnifying glass emoji and someone else adds, “Patterns.” The thread splits into smaller conversations, but my name stays tagged in the original message. Pinned in the scroll which is easy to find.

Krizzy: I hate this.

Krizzy: Tell me what you want to do.

I stare at the screen until the words blur. If I answer now, it becomes a debate and if I ignore it, it becomes background noise people repeat tomorrow. Either way, it does not disappear.

I turn off the lights and lie back, phone resting against my chest. The room is dark except for the glow of notifications still coming in. One more message loads before I lock the screen.

Clara Smith— Scholarship.