Skye's social media game is always on point. Until her best friend, Asha, films an embarrassing video of Skye at a sleepover and posts it online. But Asha quickly deletes the post, so everything's okay. Right?
Then Skye gets an anonymous message. Someone has texted her a screenshot from the video. This person threatens to share the shocking photo online . . . unless Skye does whatever they say.
Skye's perfect image -- and privacy -- are suddenly in jeopardy. What will Skye do to keep the screenshot under wraps? And who is trying to ruin her life?
Donna Cooner is the acclaimed author of Skinny
, Can't Look Away
. A Texas native and graduate of Texas A&M University, Donna currently lives in Fort Collins, Colorado, with her husband, a cat named Stu, and two chocolate Labradors, Roxanne and Murphy. Follow @donnacooner on Twitter or visit her online at donnacooner.com.
- ! 'My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out. Weird. It''s a text without a
name or number attached.
How can you do that? It that even possible?
message says, I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU, SKYE, AND YOU''RE NOT GOING TO WANT TO MISS
I''m confused. Normally, I would just delete something like this,
but they know my name. It''s not some random spam, but it doesn''t look like any
text I''ve ever seen before. Maybe it''s the interview committee, although it seems
like a really strange way to contact me. Another text pops up on my screen.
IS A TEST. NOT HARD. ARE YOU READY?
A test? Now my nerves are starting
to kick in. I hit reply and write back.
ME: WHO IS THIS? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING
The message comes back immediately. LOOK AT THE PICTURE.
is an attachment and I click on it, waiting for it to download.
I don''t even recognize myself. Everything about this is wrong. It''s a screenshot. Of
me. Only different than any me anyone has ever seen before. It''s from
the video of Kylie''s birthday party, taken out of context and only one frame frozen
onto the tiny screen of my phone. It was obviously chosen for maximum shock value
-- picked at the exact moment to put me in the worst possible light. It''s a full
body shot -- the nightie slipping down off one shoulder, leaving it bare, and me
leaning in to kiss the air with eyes half closed. My hair is big. My lips are full
and pouty. But that''s not the part of the picture I focus on. All I can see is
my thick thighs, my round stomach and my flabby arms. This is the me I''ve done
everything in my life to hide.'