Story Of Her Life.

What Comes Around , Goes Back Around

The rest of that school day ended quite quickly.

As students gathered at Beth's green beatle to congratulate her on a successful cop-free party, her mind wondered to the silver thermis tucked in her purse labeled INMAN and what the smoothie really ment. Maybe she was over-analyzing things, and this guy was just a really cool teacher like Mr. Conklin, who just happened to party once in a while.

When she arrived home she noticed her mother's car, along with another parked in the far right area of the cement driveway, the area usually left empty for those occupying the guest house. She walked the five-hundered or so yards to the home, noticing the "For Rent" sign posted near the main road.

Inside, her mother Martha, still dressed in hospital scrubs stood talking to a lady in a business suit near the house enterance.

"Oh good! You're home! So... what do you think?" Martha streatched her arms about showing of the new, modern wallpaper and furniture.

"You're renting out the guest house?" Beth ignored her mother's greeting.

"Well yeah, that's the plan. You're going away to college next year, and the extra money would come in handy. And besides, I figured I could do something for the community," Martha explained herself and motioned the realitor away.

Beth hid the anger she had towards her mother for not asking her in her gut. It's not like Martha was ever around. Working eighty hour shifts at the hostpital wasn't exactly a fit job for leaving a teenager at home along with a stranger living a few feet away, with access to the hose.

"You know that there's no laundry or functioning stove out here right?" she pointed out blunty.

"They'll be using parts of the main house during their stay, yes. I know." Martha explained. "Listen, I know you're worried, but don't worry. My lawyers and the realitor reviewed the applications very carefully hun. Don't freak." she used Beth's words.

"So, who's the lucky camper?" Beth asked.

"Dunno yet. I've narrowed it down to a single mom of one; colleg boy, senior; and a college boy, freshman." she said.

"If you want my opinion, don't choose the mom. She'll probably never pay rent because she'll never get child support. And of the boys, pick the cuter one." Beth giggled and headed back home.

Her home seemed spotless, quiet and undisturbed, almost perfectly covering any evidence of the night before.

She tossed her bag on the kitchen counter and removed the thermis from her purse. She stared at it. Why must her History teacher be sooo darn cute? And charming and kind? His looks were definitely clouding her judgement.

Her cell phone vibrated in her back pocket. She leaped from the counter and retrieved it. Call from Laura. Her second-best-friend.

"Hello?" Beth greeted as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

"Beth, have you been on Facebook today?" Laura sounded panicked.

"No," she replied peacefully as she took her top off, revealing an "I heart boys" tank-top.

"You need to. Right. Now." she demanded.

"Can it wait? I'm changing-" she began as she slid her pants off and kicked them to the corner of the room.

"Get on now!" Laura inturrupted.

"Fine." Beth sat on her bed next to the laptop and logged into her facebook account. "Okay. I'm on. What's so imp..." Her jaw dropped, along with her cell phone.

"What the hell?" she yelled.

She picked up her cell and talked at Laura. On the computer screen was a Facebook post of a picture taken at Beth's party. It showed herself and Michael Miller laying on an airmatress sleeping, and from the angle, she appeared to be topless.

"Who the hell posted this?" Beth screamed, furious and embarassed.

"It links back to a deleted account, but my brother's girlfriend's best friend's sister says she saw the picture on Michael's phone druing Lab today."

"That jerk!" Beth claimed. She scrolled down the page. 347 Likes. 138 comments. And the numbers were rising.

"Laura, what am I going to do? By this time tomorrow, the entire school could have seen this." she wailed, she couldn't keep the tears from streaming down her face.

"I gotta go."

She threw the phone at the bed and sobbed into her pillow. The familiar "pop" of the Facebook IM sounded. Then again. Her account exploaded with notifications. She closed her laptop and placedd it on the floor.

Her life was officially over. Her perfect record was tainted, and all because of one stupid party