Tyler
I slammed my locker harder than I intended, but the sound barely registered over everything else—the banging lockers, the loud laughter, and water splashing somewhere in the locker room like someone had left the showers running too long.
I wasn’t surprised about the buzz the pictures from Brooklyn’s party had created. I’d been tagged aggressively against my own wish.
And my effort to make it tone down a bit—replying to that one comment—only made it worse.
Because now they knew I saw all their comments, so the comments just kept coming.
And at school…it was worse.
I mean, worse in a good kind of way.
The party had been great, I’ll admit.
Better than Tracy’s, which always felt like some weird competition.
If you know what I mean.
“Dude, I heard coach tell the principal that
