PINK SAVAGE LIVES

[Savage Pink Exclusive]

Of course, she lives — and her ego's only getting bigger. This morning, the proof shines bright and clear on the school wall, still fresh, still loud. A perfect, untouchable message for everyone trying to bring her down.

But who cares what they think? Not me. I said what I said — and when I'm not dropping truth, I'm painting the town red. Or maybe pink. Either way, you know who's making the art.

#StayMad

*-*

I walked into school that morning like nothing had happened — which was a feat, considering the chaos buzzing through the hallways.

"Did you see it?" someone whispered as I passed.

"On the west wall — she went off this time."

"She's fearless," another voice chimed in. "I wish I knew who she was."

I kept my head down, my heart pounding with the kind of adrenaline I'd learned to live with. Because, yeah — the new graffiti? That was ours.

Bill had outdone himself last night. The massive letters, in our signature shades of pink and black, screamed across the wall: "TRUTH HURTS, BUT LIES DESTROY." It was bold, impossible to ignore — and everyone knew exactly who the message was really for.

Nick. And his parents.

I made my way to my locker, trying to stay cool while my phone buzzed non-stop in my pocket. The blog's notifications were out of control — likes, comments, reposts. Everyone had something to say.

But just as I was about to sneak a peek, the intercom crackled to life.

"Attention, students. All juniors and seniors, please report to the auditorium immediately."

A collective groan rippled through the hallway. I exchanged a glance with Bill as he appeared by my side, his face a perfect mask of innocent curiosity.

"You think it's about us?" I whispered.

He shrugged, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Guess we'll find out."

The auditorium was packed and buzzing when we got there. Everyone was still talking about the wall — the post — me. I slipped into a seat toward the back, Bill right next to me.

And then Principal Owens took the stage, his face like a thundercloud.

"Let me be clear," he began, his voice cutting through the noise. "Vandalism will not be tolerated at this school. And neither will cyberbullying — no matter how popular it may be."

The room went dead silent. My pulse skittered.

"Whoever is behind this Savage Pink nonsense," Owens continued, "will be found. And when they are, there will be consequences."

Bill nudged me with his elbow, his smirk barely contained. "He sounds pressed," he whispered.

I couldn't help it — I smiled. But the feeling didn't last long when the rest of the day gets heated as the school environment gets extra vigilant on people who's obviously not me, right?

*-*

Bill and I practically dragged ourselves through the front door after school, the weight of the day still clinging to us. I dumped my bag on the couch and collapsed next to it, face-first into a cushion.

"Today was hell," I groaned, my voice muffled.

Bill dropped his gear next to mine and flopped onto the armchair like he'd been knocked out in the final round of a boxing match. "The heat's insane. Coach wouldn't shut up about 'team image' after that post — like it's my fault Pink Savage has taste." He shot me a look, but there was the hint of a smirk there.

I flipped over, staring at the ceiling. "Well, you're welcome. I'm basically the reason your team is famous now."

He snorted. "Yeah, too bad we're also wanted criminals. They literally had a whole-ass meeting about you today. You're like a school-wide manhunt at this point."

I grinned. "I know. Isn't it awesome?"

But the grin faded fast because the truth was, it was getting way too real. Teachers were cracking down. Rumors were spiraling out of control. And some of those rumors…

"Oh my God," Bill burst out laughing, like he'd read my mind. "Please tell me you heard about the latest suspect."

I sat up, fighting my own laughter. "Freakin' Debbie Shaw?!"

We both lost it. Tears-in-our-eyes kind of laughing.

"Debbie can't even SPELL 'exclusive'!" Bill howled, clutching his stomach.

"She thinks Taylor Swift writes the blog!" I gasped, barely getting the words out.

It felt good to laugh after the intensity of the day. But when the giggles died down, the weight of it all settled back in.

"We need to chill on the art," Bill said, more serious now. "At least for a while. Too many eyes are looking for us. For you."

I didn't want to admit it, but he was right. Still, the idea of laying low made my skin itch. I needed an outlet. "Fine," I said, crossing my arms. "But I'm still posting. They can hunt all they want — they'll never catch me."

Bill grinned. "Damn right they won't."

The thing was… I wasn't so sure. Not with the way things were heating up.

And I had a feeling it

was about to get a whole lot worse.