n the last day of her life, Audrie Pott walked through a crucible of teenage torment.A curvaceous sophomore at Saratoga High School, dressed in the cool-girl's uniform of a low-cut top and supershort skirt, she looked the same as always, but inside she was quivering with humiliation.

On Facebook, messages were pinging into her inbox, each one delivering another gut punch: "honestly like really no joke everyone knows. She cut what classes she could, blowing off chemistry for two days in a row, hoping to avoid confrontations with disapproving girlfriends.

She shows them a photo of perfect tits, but they swear those aren't Melissa's. And she also wants to match their pussies to the photos, if they're hoping to graduate.

Katie wants to know if they like to pleasure each other.

"You need to come back to reality," Kathy told her.

At lunchtime, Audrie texted her mom at work: "Mom, please pick me up." Sheila Pott, a mortgage-loan officer, asked why and whether Audrie couldn't wait for her to finish a business meeting.