5 Ways to Survive the Judgment of Behavior Porn

As always, groups of students were scattered across the campus lawn, soaking up the sun. You could practically map them out: the loud guys tossing a football around, the quiet readers, and everything in between. The air was filled with fragments of conversation and the rhythmic hum of a robotic lawn mower somewhere in the distance. A few boys sat on the wooden benches beside the path. Mary spotted Gary immediately. Leaning back at an angle, legs spread, that grin lingering just a little too long. He was laughing with the others, his head tilted slightly.

She sat on the edge of the stone planter, arms wrapped around her knees. Theresa was stretched out on the grass, her hood pulled over her eyes despite the warm summer weather. Angel crouched nearby, elbows resting on her knees, sunglasses perched on top of her head as if she were personally challenging the sun. The end of a lollipop stick bobbed at the corner of her mouth.

Mary broke the silence. “He actually said it. Gary. About me.”

“What?” Angel asked.

“‘Marker girl.’ To his little group. And they laughed.”

Theresa tugged her hood up a little. “You standing out isn’t exactly news, Mare.”

Mary looked at her. “Since when is standing out enough reason to judge someone?”

Angel grinned. “Since GRACE started measuring everything. And nobody asks why.”

Mary rubbed her hands together. “It felt… like I was doing something without actually doing anything. Like the way I carried myself was already enough to get clicked.”

Angel shrugged. “Welcome to behavior porn. Everything counts, nobody knows what. And we still click.”

Mary looked at her. “Haven’t you been stuck in the three-hundreds for weeks?”

Angel smiled broadly. “326. And dropping. My new hobby.”

Theresa pushed herself halfway upright. “You’re seriously insane. How?”

“Simple tricks,” Angel said lightly. “Drop my bag in a crowded hallway, ignore a teacher when I walk in… little things, but visible.”

Mary looked at her as if she had to learn how to read her all over again. “You’re doing it on purpose?”

Angel nodded. “Absolutely. Because the whole thing is ridiculous. A HUD with numbers. A system with no logic. TikTok for your morals. And just as empty.”

Theresa rolled her eyes. “You call it empty, but meanwhile you’ve built your whole personality around it.”

Angel took off her sunglasses and squinted past her. “Because nobody knows what it means. So I get to decide.”

Mary’s voice softened. “But it does mean something!”

Angel shook her head. “I haven’t seen it yet. So far, zero consequences. Just a number going down and the occasional weird look.”

Theresa stretched out her legs. “Maybe weird looks are enough for me.”

“What do you mean?” Mary said.

Theresa shrugged. “I don’t click randomly. I click deliberately. Strategically. Because it counts. Numbers become your profile. And your profile means stability.”

Angel chuckled. “You’re a score junkie.”

Theresa smiled. “And you’re a score nerd in reverse. You’re steering too. Just downward.”

Mary looked from one to the other: one clicked without restraint, the other without heart. She was trying to click the right way. Not passively. Not rebelliously.

She took a deep breath. “If you’re going to dish it out, you have to be able to take it.”

Theresa nodded without saying anything.

Angel rolled the lollipop half a turn between her thumb and forefinger. “That’s true. But I decide how hard I hit.”

Theresa looked at Mary; her expression said enough. They didn’t know what had gotten into Angel, but she’d been defiant ever since GRACE rolled out.