I dried my eyes, swapped my SIM card into an old phone, and powered it on.
My feed was flooded with updates from classmates—and from Samantha and Roger.
In one photo, Roger was leaning back against Samantha's chest, his face flushed as he grinned up at her. She gazed down at him, the picture of tenderness.
I glanced at it once, then noticed the empty fruit wine cans piled on the table behind them.
That much alcohol? Forget affecting their exam performance—some of them might not even wake up tomorrow.
Someone had posted a video. The crowd was chanting: "Kiss! Kiss!"
Samantha pressed herself against Roger, kissing him desperately, deeply—a thin string of saliva still connecting their lips when they finally pulled apart.
Disgust churned in my stomach. I closed the video.
The latest post was from Roger. Clearly set to only visible to me.
I opened it. Heavy, ragged breathing filled my ears.
I frowned at the two bodies tangled together on screen. I didn't need to look closely to know the other person was Samantha.
Roger's voice came through between gasps, dripping with mockery: