Claire did not speak to Maya.

She did not come near her locker.

The online posts stopped.

Maya began breathing normally at school again.

Then the Thompson Scholarship finalists were announced.

Five names.

Maya Reynolds was one of them.

Claire was not eligible.

Nobody needed to explain why.

The announcement went up on a Thursday morning.

By lunchtime, somebody had written SNITCH MONEY in black marker across a photocopy of the finalist list.

Mercer removed it.

Maya pretended not to care.

Friday passed.

Then the weekend.

Monday arrived strangely quiet.

Maya started wondering if maybe the worst had finally ended.

Tuesday morning, she found Claire standing outside AP Statistics.

Claire said nothing.

She simply watched Maya walk past.

Wednesday afternoon, Lexi sent Maya a private message.

I’m not supposed to tell you this, but don’t be alone around Claire. She’s really mad.

Maya called Lexi immediately.

The girl did not answer.

Maya forwarded the message to her mother and Mercer.

Mercer promised security would be alerted.

Thursday remained uneventful.

Then came Friday.

The day of the cafeteria incident.

Maya had slept badly.

Her pharmacy shift the night before lasted until ten, and she stayed awake another hour studying for a statistics quiz. By lunchtime, she was exhausted enough that even deciding between mashed potatoes and rice felt unnecessarily complicated.

She put her black headphones around her neck and entered the cafeteria line.

A turquoise tray rested in her left hand.

Rice.

Chicken.

Vegetables.

She moved slowly along the stainless-steel serving counter.

The cafeteria was crowded.

Students talked behind her.

Trays knocked against metal.

Somebody laughed loudly near the drink machines.

Maya barely noticed.

Then Claire entered the line behind her.

Maya did not see her at first.

Several students did.

That mattered later.

Claire held her own turquoise tray vertically against her stomach.

Lexi followed three students behind.

Her expression changed when she saw Maya.

Claire moved closer.

Maya reached for a piece of chicken with the serving tongs.

Behind her, Claire smiled.

Then raised the edge of her tray.

The first strike landed across Maya’s upper back and the side of her shoulder.

Plastic cracked loudly against fabric.

Maya lurched forward.

Her hand struck the stainless-steel counter.

For half a second, she did not understand what happened.

Then she looked sideways.

Claire was standing directly behind her.

Smiling.

Maya slowly straightened.

“Did you just hit me?”