Sara Shepard - Toxic

Not that she had a crush on him or anything. She barely knew him.

“Now, we’re going to be fairly informal,” Samantha explained, standing in front of the panelists. “One of the producers will ask a question, and then anyone can jump in. The audience can respond, too.” She gestured to them, though they all were nameless, uninteresting faces besides Greg’s. “Just be yourselves, and be proud of what you’ve accomplished. Remember, you all are the voices on anti-bullying measures, and we’re very supportive of your efforts. All of you.”

Spencer locked eyes with Greg again, and he gave her another encouraging smile. Then the cameras started to roll. One producer, a thin, graying man named Jamie, asked everyone to share their stories. The panelists went around the room, explaining how they or someone they loved had gone through a particularly horrible experience. The two shy boys had been tormented—one because of his sexuality, the other because he was on the autism spectrum. The athletic girl, whose name was Caitlin, was on the panel for starting an outreach program after her brother, Taylor, killed himself after being picked on violently. And Spencer briefly told her story about Ali, but she mostly made it about her website and how she wanted to help other people share their stories.

From there, Jamie asked more questions about the emotional toll bullying took on people, where bullying stemmed from, and how to stop it. The panel took turns giving answers, and every time Spencer spoke, she felt the weight of her words. Every classroom would see this for years. She was leaving a legacy.

When Jamie asked a question about whether bullying seemed to be on the rise in the age of digital media, the panelists looked at one another. Spencer cleared her throat. “Social media can expose your pain to a heightened degree. On Facebook, everyone sees what you’re going through, not just people who happen to be in the hall when whoever it is tortures you. Everyone can ‘like’ a mean comment about you. It might make you feel like it’s you against the world.”

She passed the microphone, catching Greg’s eyes in the audience. Nice , he mouthed. Her spine tingled pleasantly.

But then someone in the audience coughed. “That is such bullshit.”

Samantha’s eyebrows shot up. Cameras swung around to face the audience member. “Excuse me?” Jamie said, squinting into the darkness. “Can you stand up so we can see you, sir?”

A figure in a bulky red hunter’s plaid jacket rose. He was a dark-haired, square-faced guy with quirked eyebrows and a turned-down mouth that made him look angry. When he glanced at Spencer, his eyes hardened even more. “You people sound like those parents who blame violence on video games. Social media isn’t to blame. Oversensitive people are.”

Everyone on the stage murmured worriedly. Spencer blinked at the figure in the audience, a puzzle piece slotting into place. She recognized his face from a profile picture. It was DominickPhilly, the jerk who was always trolling her site.

Why the hell was he here?

Jamie placed his hands on his hips. “Maybe you’d like to elaborate on that?”

Dominick shrugged, his gaze still on Spencer. “The more power we give this whole anti-bullying thing, the more power we give bullies. You don’t think bullies haven’t been around since, like, the dawn of time? And maybe, I don’t know, some people deserve to get picked on.”

Everyone on the stage gasped. Samantha, who was sitting on the sidelines, leapt to her feet. “This is inappropriate. I think you should leave.”

“What about freedom of speech?” Dominick protested.

Samantha’s eyes blazed. “We’re trying to help people get through terrible ordeals. What we don’t need is someone invalidating their feelings.”

“Wah, wah, wah.” Dominick simpered, rolling his eyes.

“That’s it.” Samantha signaled to a man Spencer hadn’t noticed in the corner, and he swept forward, pushing into the aisle and taking Dominick’s arm. Everyone watched as the guard pulled Dominick up the aisle and out the exit.

Just before the door closed, Dominick turned around and glared at Spencer—and only Spencer. “I hope you’re happy, little liar,” he said ominously.

Spencer flinched. “Hey,” Greg said gruffly, leaping up. He looked like he was about to jump off the stage, but Jamie waved at him to sit back down.

“Sorry about that, folks,” Samantha said after the door slammed shut. “I guess it shows that bullies are everywhere, huh?” She chuckled uncomfortably. “Let’s get back on track, shall we? We’ll edit all that out.”

Spencer was able to finish the video, even staying focused, but she had to hide her shaking hands under her thighs. She could feel Greg sneaking peeks at her, and she kept a smile pasted on her face.

After another half hour, Jamie signaled for the cameras to stop. He beamed at the panel. “You guys were amazing. I think we have everything we need and more.”

“Celebratory party at Heartland Brewery!” Samantha crowed happily, bursting into applause. “You all deserve it!” She glanced at the audience. “You all are welcome, too.”

Spencer stood and followed the others off the stage. Greg caught her arm on the way to the green room. “You going to the party?” he asked.

Heartland Brewery, Spencer had heard, was where all the Saturday Night Live cast members had their after-parties. But when she thought about attending a party, her heart started to pound. Dominick had unsteadied her. She didn’t want to be in a crowd.

Greg cocked his head, studying her. “Or we could go somewhere quieter?” he suggested. “I know a great coffee place in the Village. It’s only a subway ride away.”

“That sounds perfect,” Spencer breathed. This Greg was the same as the guy from the emails: intuitive, sympathetic, and understanding of just what she wanted without her having to explain a thing.

Which was exactly what she needed.

They descended the concrete stairs below the huge office building to the subway station. As they walked through a tunnel toward the F train, Spencer kept trying to think of something to say to Greg, but all she could think about was Dominick. Greg had called up and gotten into the audience easily; clearly, Dominick had, too. But why? Expressly to yell at Spencer? To humiliate her ?

“So was that guy an ex or something?” Greg asked as he bought them both MetroCards.

Spencer’s head swung up. It was stupid to play dumb; the stress from Dominick was probably obvious on her face. “His name is Dominick. I only know him from my blog—he has it out for me for some reason. I don’t know why. Some people are just haters.”

Greg walked toward the stairs leading to the downtown platform. “Well, try to forget about him. You did a great job tonight. You’re so comfortable on camera.”

“Well, I’ve been interviewed enough times that I’m used to it,” Spencer said, laughing bashfully.

They stepped onto the downtown platform. A sign said that the local train, which they were waiting for, would pull in on one track, and the express train would arrive on another. At the moment, there was no train on either track. The uptown trains were across the platform, separated by a bunch of steel beams and dangerous-looking rails. For the most part, the platforms were desolate, with only a few people wandering up and down, wearing earbuds or scrolling through their phones. Spencer began to pace the length of the station, gazing at the posters on the walls. There was one for a new HBO drama series coming out; someone had blacked out the main actress’s teeth and given her devil horns.