The screenshot
Monday, 8th September | 7:35 AM
I have officially decided that Mondays should be cancelled.
Seriously. Who invented Mondays? And why does school have to start so early?
I was standing outside Westbridge Academy, struggling to close my bag, when Zara appeared beside me.
“You’re late.”
I looked at her. “Good morning to you too.”
She laughed and linked her arm through mine.
Zara Williams. My best friend since Year 7. Pretty, confident, popular and somehow always looking like she has just stepped out of a photoshoot.
Then there’s me.
Dara Adebayo. Professional overthinker. Part-time comedian. Full-time student who desperately needs another hour of sleep.
“Have you seen Nina’s story?” Zara asked.
“No. Why?”
She pulled out her phone.
It was a black screen with white writing.
Some people really need to learn how to keep secrets.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Well, that’s dramatic.”
“Exactly,” Zara replied, quickly locking her phone.
Something about her expression bothered me.
But I ignored it.
I wish I hadn’t.
Monday, 10:15 AM | Cafeteria
Nina dropped into the seat opposite me.
“Girls. We have a problem.”
I continued eating my sandwich.
“Is the problem that you stole my juice yesterday?”
“Dara, please.”
Zara leaned forward. “What happened?”
Nina unlocked her phone and showed us a screenshot.
It was from a group chat called The Four Idiots.
One message stood out.
Unknown: Dara only stays friends with Zara because she’s popular.
I stared at the screen.
“Wow.”
Nina looked concerned. “That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say? Congratulations to whoever wrote it?”
Zara grabbed the phone.
“Who sent this?”
“That’s the thing,” Nina said. “Someone deleted their messages.”
I looked between them.
“Why are you both acting like I just discovered a dead body?”
Neither of them laughed.
And suddenly, I wasn’t hungry anymore.
Monday, 12:40 PM | School Courtyard
I was walking towards the library when someone stepped into my path.
“You’re Dara, right?”
I looked up.
A boy.
Tall, neatly dressed, dark hair, and the kind of expression that made it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
“Depends. Who’s asking?”
He smiled slightly.
“Daniel.”
“Okay, Daniel. Do you need something?”
He looked over my shoulder.
“Just wanted to say hello.”
“Well, hello.”
I tried to walk past him, but he spoke again.
“Be careful who you trust here.”
I stopped.
“Excuse me?”
He slipped his hands into his pockets.
“Especially your friends.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he walked away.
What was that supposed to mean?
And why did he look directly at Zara’s classroom before leaving?
Monday, 8:56 PM | My Bedroom
Today has officially become weird.
First, the screenshot.
Then Daniel.
And now this.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You should ask Zara what happened last Friday.
I frowned.
Me: Who is this?
No reply.
Then another message arrived.
It was a photograph.
Zara.
Standing beside Daniel.
Holding his hand.
And wearing the necklace I gave her for her birthday.
The picture was clearly taken last Friday.
I zoomed in.
Zara was smiling.
Daniel was looking directly at her.
I stared at the photograph for what felt like forever.
I thought I knew my best friend.
Apparently, I don’t.
And tomorrow, I’m getting answers.
