turn around and copy her. Gross.”
My heart sank. I was trapped. Whatever I
created, Olivia would somehow post it first. The
helplessness was crushing.
I looked at my Instagram account, at everything
<
I’d built. I couldn’t go through this again. I
couldn’t face another wave of online hate. I had
to cut my losses.
I deactivated my account. Then I posted one
last message on all my social media:
“I can’t prove I’m innocent. I can’t explain.
what’s happening. I’m deactivating this
account. I’m leaving social media. But I want to
say this one last time: I, Jenna Davis, have
never plagiarized anyone.”
I turned off comments and DMs, deleted the
apps, and forced myself to stop thinking about
- it. If I couldn’t fight it, I’d run from it. I packed a
bag and headed to Yosemite. I needed fresh air,
open space, and a break from the internet.
Let’s see what Olivia posts now that I’m gone.
I deactivated my Instagram, thinking that was
the end of it. I was so wrong. Olivia posted a
tearful video that night. “Jenna’s so talented.
I’d feel terrible if she quit social media because
of me. I forgive you, Jenna. Please come back.”
Her followers went wild. Praising Olivia’s
kindness, bashing me for making her feel guilty.
Even off the internet, I was the villain.
Meanwhile, I was blissfully unaware, kayaking
on the Merced River, the drama a distant
memory.
After paying the rental guy, I turned to walk
back to my car and saw a familiar face.
“Jenna?” He ran towards me, a huge grin on
his face.
“Michael!” I shrieked.
“What a coincidence! I never thought I’d see
you here.” Michael settled across from me at a
picnic table, pouring me a cup of tea.
<
7:03
63
Michael was my childhood best friend. Back in our small town, I was his shadow. After college, our paths diverged. We hadn’t seen each other in years.
“Are you working around here?” he asked.
“Nah, just visiting. Needed a break.” I didn’t
want to rehash the Olivia nightmare. Michael, thankfully, didn’t push it.
“I’m heading back home to see Grandma. Want to come?”
“Absolutely!”
