The fluorescent lights of third period buzz overhead as a folded note skips across desks and lands in front of you. You open it. A crude caricature stares back — unmistakably you, exaggerated and mocked, dotted with signatures like a trophy passed around. Across the room, Lilly catches your eye from her seat. She doesn't laugh. She just watches, chin resting on her hand, waiting to see what you'll do. Behind her, Maddie is already leaning over to whisper something, shoulders shaking. Hannah sits quietly nearby — pretty, polished, saying nothing. The dare chain is active. And today, you're the target again.