Chapter 1

Sunday October 12

This is my revenge journal. Things were finally going well for me again, but that bitch Bevin fucked it up for me. That can’t go unanswered.

After being expelled from Saint Francis Prep over the Photo Club scandal, I had to go to a public school for my senior year. Gone were my hopes of racking up a bunch of advanced placement credits to get ahead in college; between incompatible transfer credits and court-ordered community service, I had to scramble just to graduate on time.

I lost all of my friends, too: the name Lexi Green was toxic. Even Marcie and I drifted apart. The only people who wanted to know me at the new school were the ones who knew my reputation and were drawn to me for the wrong reasons.

But then I started college, and things were looking up. I’ve finally got some coursework that doesn’t bore me to tears, for one. I’m double-majoring in Computer Science and Accounting, in the hopes of working for the FBI some day. A lot of the material is remedial so far, but nothing like that crappy high school. And I made friends, too: a couple kids from the dorm and I have been hanging out a lot - watching movies in the rec room, listening to music, and staying up late talking.

Bevin is the peppy alpha type girl. She’s a bit short and has a little baby fat, but she’s pretty and has an infectious enthusiasm. Cricket is the pseudo-spiritual type. She was an only child and was clearly told how unique and special she was every day of her life. Adam was a swimmer in high school, and it shows when he wears tight T-shirts. His eyes are so blue. James fancies himself a philosopher. Often he comes across as pretentious, but sometimes he manages deep.

Bevin and I have been in an unspoken competition for Adam’s affection. Everybody knew it, of course, and it was no big deal - certainly nothing to go nuclear over, or so I thought. Bevin clearly thought differently.

To be clear: I am prettier than Bevin. But I’m pretty in a very average way: average height, average build, average chest, wavy brown hair, brown eyes, glasses. Sure, I have a flat belly and a symmetric face, but there’s really no particular quality to single out about my looks. Bevin, on the other hand, has that sort of gymnast-with-boobs look that some guys go for.

Last night we had all been hanging out in James’ room, playing “Never have I ever”. It’s a drinking game where you take turns making statements beginning with “never have I ever”, and anyone who has done that thing has to drink. There was maybe a little bit of tension in the room: Adam’s roommate was out of town for the weekend, and it seemed likely that some lucky girl would get to spend the night with him. I, for one, could have really used it: I haven’t had sex since the time with Marcie and Jeff in my junior year. I haven’t even gotten myself off since college started. My roommate is almost never home - she’s pledging some sorority - but I’m always afraid that she could come back at any moment.

The game started pretty typically. Adam began: “Never have I ever gone out in public without underwear.” Cricket drank, to a chorus of ooh’s and ahh’s.

Cricket asked the next one. “Never have I ever kissed a member of the same sex.” I drank. They wanted details. “It was when my best friend Marcie lost her virginity,” I explained. “I was there to help.”

“Never have I ever done illegal drugs,” James continued. “Alcohol doesn’t count.” Cricket, Bevin, and Adam drank.

Then Bevin was up. “Never have I ever distributed child pornography,” she said. Nobody drank. “Are you sure, Lexi?” Bevin asked. I shrugged it off.

Everyone ignored Bevin’s weirdness, and the game continued. But then when Bevin’s turn came around again, she became more aggressive. “Never have I ever anally raped a minor.” Again, nobody drank, and again Bevin challenged me on it. “Drink up, Lexi!” she said with a bubbly voice.

Clearly, Bevin wouldn’t be ignored. “It was consensual, and we were both 17,” I explained with a sigh. “Is there something you’d like say, Bevin?”

She replied, still with a bubbly voice, but with steel in her eyes. “It says here that you blackmailed that boy into letting you violate his rectum. That makes it rape, doesn’t it?” She made a show of waving her phone’s web browser in front of everyone.

I knew exactly which article she had been reading. “Mr. Blume’s research was flawed. The Post has issued a retraction and the libel suit is expected to settle this month. What’s your fucking problem, Bevin?”

Bevin ignored my question. “No matter - there are plenty of other articles. Here, let me send them to you guys.” She tapped on her phone and suddenly everyone else’s phone chimed, signaling new email.

Cricket got up. “This is fucked up. I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah, we should probably call it a night,” Adam agreed. We all went back to our respective rooms.