Truth or dare. I drew the dare: “FaceTime your secret online partner right now.” My hand shook so violently that I knocked over my glass, dark amber liquid pooling across the sticky table. My best friend laughed, shoving my shoulder. “What’s with the massive panic? Who are you hiding? Someone embarrassing?” I couldn’t say a word. How could I? The girl on the other side of that anonymous screen was his older sister. Before I could come up with an excuse, the heavy door of the private lounge swung open. “Corinne?” Sam blinked, sitting up straight. “What are you doing here?” “Picking up my boyfriend.” Her eyes were fixed straight on me as she crossed the room in long, decisive strides. Sam looked at her, then looked at me, his jaw dropping in sheer disbelief. My mind went entirely blank. A frantic flutter rose in my throat—”When did she figure it out? How did she know it was me?” Then, without slowing down, Corinne brushed past my shoulder. She reached out and lifted the heavy tray straight from the hands of the young busser clearing the next table. “Babe,” her voice dropped into a tender, scolding murmur, “didn’t I say I’d pay your tuition? Why did you sneak out to work another shift?” 01 The room seemed to tilt on its axis. Sam’s voice exploded right beside my ear. “Holy shit, Corinne, don’t give me a heart attack! I thought you were talking about Mason!” He paused, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “Wait… since when do you have a boyfriend?” “Do I need to submit an application to you before I date someone?” Corinne threw him a dismissive, icy glare. But the moment she turned back to the boy with the tray, her features softened instantly into something unrecognizable. “Leave this to me. Go sit down and rest.” She pushed up the sleeves of her tailored silk blouse and began clearing the leftover plates and greasy glasses. Her movements were clumsy, hesitant. Dark sauce splashed onto her pristine designer cuff. She winced, drawing in a sharp breath through her teeth, yet she didn’t call for help. She kept going. Sam rubbed his eyes, utterly bewildered. “Is that really my sister? The girl who literally sterilizes her steering wheel before she drives?” He nudged me, suspicious of my silence. “Man, why are you so calm? Did you already know about this?” I dug my fingernails into my palms until the skin went numb. I couldn’t shake my head, and I couldn’t nod. Because until ten seconds ago, I genuinely believed I was the one she was dating. Corinne and I had met on an anonymous confession board a year ago. It started as late-night venting, then shifted into private voice notes, and eventually blossomed into an intense, secret relationship online. When I pieced together that she was Sam’s older sister—the brilliant, untouchable girl I had harbored a hopeless crush on all throughout high school—I was terrified, but deliriously happy. Terrified that Sam would find out. Euphoric that my private dream had somehow become mine. We were inseparable for six months. But right before graduation finals, my mother caught on to my late-night calls, confiscated my phone, and locked down my life. We were abruptly cut off for three whole months. When exams finally ended and I got my phone back, I logged in only to find an empty screen. She had blocked me on everything. I spent weeks drowning in guilt, assuming I had broken her heart by disappearing, desperately searching for a way to explain. So during those few agonizing seconds when Sam dared me to call her, I had made up my mind. I was going to throw caution to the wind. I was going to stand up and confess that I was the boy from the screen. Whether she forgave me or screamed at me, I wanted to be brave for once. Now, that bravery felt like a cruel joke. In the three months I was gone, she hadn’t been grieving. She had simply moved on to the next boy without missing a beat. “Mason? Earth to Mason. What are you spacing out for?” “Nothing,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. I took a slow breath and forced myself to stand. “I just remembered I have something urgent at home. I need to go.” “Right now? What about your dare? What about your online girl?” As I stepped toward the door, my eyes brushed against Corinne’s. She offered a polite, distant nod—the kind reserved for a younger brother’s casual acquaintance. Just a standard, courteous greeting. Yet the sheer detachment in her gaze felt like a blade scraping against my ribs. A bitter, suffocating humiliation rushed through my chest. I hurried out, Sam’s questions fading behind the heavy door. There was no online girlfriend. There never would be again. 02 I bolted all the way home. There were only three minutes left before the college portal closed for final ranking submissions. Hands shaking against the keyboard, I canceled my first-choice university in Chicago—the city where she lived—and switched it to a coastal campus a thousand miles south. I submitted it with thirty seconds to spare. A cold wave of relief washed over me. I couldn’t imagine spending the next four years alone in a frozen northern city, running into a girl who had replaced me like an old coat. I collapsed onto my mattress, completely drained. Hours later, the patter of heavy rain against glass pulled me from a restless sleep. I dragged myself up to shut the window. As the old wooden frame creaked forward, two silhouettes on the sidewalk below caught my eye. “Walk slower,” a voice drifted up through the rain. “You’re going to slip again.” “No, I won’t,” the boy laughed. Corinne let him tug her along by the hand, looking down at him with a tenderness so raw it made my throat ache. They bantered under the streetlamp, their shadows merging. Then he pulled her in. The kiss was lingering, possessive. Their warm breath fogged up the clear canopy of the umbrella. My hands trembled as I jerked the window shut. A dull, throbbing ache flared behind my temples, my throat burning as if I’d swallowed glass. On the nightstand, my phone buzzed incessantly. Sam had sent a string of voice memos. “Man, I still can’t wrap my head around it. The iron queen actually fell in love.” “Remember when my parents were pressuring her to date, and she claimed she already had a guy? We thought it was just a lazy excuse. Turns out it was real.” “I just found out they’ve been together for a full year.” My throat tightened. “A year?” “Yeah. Kept it totally underground until now. Who knew she had it in her to be so secretive?” The acid in my stomach surged upward. A year. That meant our entire timeline overlapped. Every memory I had hoarded like treasure, every late-night confession, every tender reassurance she gave me until dawn while I cried over my father’s death… none of it was special. I was never her person. I was just someone to kill time with when she was bored. “By the way, why did you run off so fast earlier?” Sam’s text popped up. I swallowed the lump in my throat and typed back with forced lightness: “Nothing major. Just changed my college list. Decided the north is too cold. The south suits me better.” “Seriously?! You finally came to your senses! But what about your online girl?” I stared out into the darkness. Lightning cracked across the sky, followed by a low roll of thunder. Usually, on nights like this, Corinne would call within seconds. She knew how much I hated thunderstorms. No matter how early her morning classes were, she would stay on the line, letting the call run until my breathing evened out into sleep. She would hum old, soothing melodies into the receiver, her low, steady voice shielding me from the noise outside. Now, the only sound reaching my ears was the muffled laughter drifting up from the pavement downstairs. “Your technique is terrible.” “I’ll let it slide tonight, but next time we’re practicing somewhere else.” “Shut up, the neighbors are going to hear you…” I pulled the blanket completely over my head and typed four words with numb fingers: “We broke up.” 03 I didn’t explain anything to Sam. In his head, he manufactured an entire tragic narrative about my devastating heartbreak, insisting that I needed a beach trip to clear my head before summer ended. I thought it would just be the two of us. On the morning we were supposed to leave, I hauled my duffel bag over to the SUV and pulled open the passenger door. A crisp, familiar voice came from the driver’s seat. “That seat’s taken. You and Sam are in the back.” I froze, looking up into Corinne’s striking profile. Behind me, Sam ran over, dragging the new boyfriend along. “Hey, man! My parents freaked out about us driving down the coast alone, so they forced Corinne to play chaperone.” “Like I wanted to come,” Corinne said, not hiding her annoyance. Sam didn’t care; he was too easygoing to let her tone bother him. He tossed his bag in and climbed into the back with me, chatting away. The atmosphere in the car was lively, mostly dominated by Justin. Justin leaned back in the passenger seat, showing off the woven leather band on his wrist with an expensive silver clasp. “She broke it when she was chasing after me on campus—it cost thousands, but she didn’t even blink when she replaced it. Then she spent another fortune getting the original restored.” Sam played the eager audience, groaning playfully about being suffocated by their romance. “Anyone thirsty?” Justin rummaged through a cooler bag between his feet, passing out cold drinks. When he reached me, he paused, letting out a small, performative gasp. “Oh, sorry. I only brought three.” He smiled thinly. “Sam, your friend doesn’t talk much. I figured he probably wasn’t thirsty.” It wasn’t my imagination. There was a quiet, sharp hostility directed right at me. Before I could say it was fine, a cold bottle of water landed on my lap from the front. “Give mine to Sam’s friend,” Corinne said, glancing into the rearview mirror. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second in the glass. My heart betrayed me, kicking hard against my ribs. Then she added smoothly, “Justin and I will share.” Justin’s pout vanished instantly. “That’s better.” Sam groaned again, covering his eyes. “Please, spare me. I’m going blind back here.” Corinne couldn’t help it; a soft, genuine laugh slipped out. When she smiled like that, her eyes crinkled into gentle crescents, transforming her sharp features into pure warmth. I stared, lost in the sight. Back when we spent hours on the phone, whenever her laugh drifted through the speaker, I had tried a thousand times to picture what her face looked like in that exact moment. Now I knew. It was just as beautiful as I had imagined. It just didn’t belong to me. 04 We arrived at the beach house late in the afternoon. Corinne pulled Justin toward the shore to take photos against the setting sun. “Let me take them for you, bro!” Sam offered eagerly, jogging over. Corinne blocked him with a flat look. “Your camera skills are an insult to human vision. Back off.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine.” Then he glanced around, spotting me standing by the porch. “Hey, let Mason do it! He’s amazing with cameras. He can make a cheap point-and-shoot look like a high-fashion editorial.” Without waiting for my answer, Sam practically shoved me forward. My mind went blank. I waved my hands nervously. “I don’t know how to use an instant camera.” “It’s simple. Here.” Corinne stepped up to me, placing the vintage Polaroid into my hands. Though she maintained a careful distance, when she leaned down to adjust my grip, her breath brushed faintly against the side of my neck. “Press here to focus, shutter’s on the right. Got it?” My entire body stiffened. It took me several seconds to manage a stiff nod. She didn’t linger. She turned and walked straight back to Justin. Through the tiny viewfinder, I watched the two of them lean into each other, the golden light washing over their shoulders. A memory hit me with sudden, visceral force. Last summer, on the phone, she had asked me where I wanted our very first picture together to be taken. I told her I wanted it by the ocean. She had laughed softly on the other end. “Just the ocean? That’s our first official photo, you know. Don’t be so casual.” I had stayed silent for a long time before telling her the truth: my father had died of liver cancer when I was in middle school, and his ashes had been scattered in the Pacific. I wanted him to see every major milestone of my life. Corinne’s laughter had died down immediately. Her voice had turned solemn, steady, and fierce. “I won’t let him down. I promise.” Now, through the lens, the past collided violently with the present. Corinne tilted her head, pressing a spontaneous kiss against Justin’s cheek. “What was that for?” Justin chuckled, startled. “I love you, Justin.” “So cheesy,” he grinned, blushing. “Why are you being so dramatic?” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying with everything in me to keep my hands steady. But no matter how hard I tried, the lens in front of me refused to focus. 05 For the next few weeks, I became a silent witness to their romance. They chased the tide along the shore. They ducked behind coastal rocks at dusk to steal kisses out of the wind. For twenty-three out of twenty-four hours a day, she seemed physically tethered to his side. She took incredible care of Justin, and by extension, she was generous to us. Whenever she brought back snacks or specialty drinks for him, there was always an extra portion left on the counter for Sam and me. She acted like a gracious, responsible older sister. It was almost impossible to reconcile the woman in front of me with the person who had played with my feelings online. For a brief, desperate moment, I even wondered if I had gotten it wrong. What if someone had used her photos to cat-fish me? That fragile hope shattered two days later. We were by the outdoor pool when Justin pointed at the heavy metal watch on Corinne’s left wrist. “Why do you always keep that on, even when we go into the water?” Corinne’s hands paused on her towel. She stared at Justin, her dark eyes unreadable and impossibly deep. Justin looked confused, offering a teasing smile. “What? Do I have sunscreen on my nose?” She lowered the towel, wet strands of hair falling across her forehead, casting a shadow over her pale face. “Nothing.” After a long silence, she slowly unclasped the watch and set it on the glass table. Across her pale inner wrist lay a thick, faded silver line. I hadn’t mistaken her. That mark belonged uniquely to her. Corinne came from a fractured family, just like me. During her senior year of high school, her parents’ bitter, vicious divorce had made local headlines. The entire city had followed the scandal. Sam had been shielded, sent to live with their grandparents in the countryside. Corinne had been left alone at ground zero to absorb the shrapnel. The trauma had turned her solitary, volatile, and deeply depressed. At her lowest point, she had despised everything around her, but most of all, herself. After we started talking online, the phrase she repeated most often was “thank you.” She told me that because of my voice, she hadn’t touched a blade in months. She told me that because of me, she thought living might actually be worth the effort. Now, without me in her life, there were no fresh marks on her skin. Instead, because of Justin, she smiled constantly. She showed an open, childlike warmth she had never shown anyone else. I stared at their intertwined hands on the lounge chairs. A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips. All those late-night confessions… they were just sweet, dramatic lies to keep a lonely boy on the hook. 06 Right before the trip was scheduled to end, things fell apart. Corinne and Justin had a massive, explosive fight over something neither of them would name. They plunged into an icy, suffocating silence. Justin spent every waking hour in our room, venting and crying to Sam. Because Sam and I shared a room, Justin’s presence meant I was constantly pushed out. Every time Justin walked in, he would look at me pointedly until I left to stand in the hallway. At first, Sam stood up for me. But as the days dragged on, Sam grew irritable. “I’m caught in the middle here, man,” Sam told me one afternoon, exasperated. “Can you just be cool and step out when he needs to talk? Please?” From that day on, Sam’s loyalty shifted entirely. Justin became his top priority. Even when I tried to bring up something important, Sam would cut me off to obsess over his sister’s relationship. “Wait, do you think she’s seeing someone else on the side?” Sam would ramble on for twenty minutes analyzing their texts, before finally remembering I was sitting there. “Anyway, what were you saying earlier?” The desire to speak instantly evaporated. I swallowed my words down. I had wanted to tell him that my father’s death anniversary was coming up in two days, and that my mother was driving down to pick me up so we could visit his memorial. In the past, Sam would have offered to drive me himself. Now, his mind was completely consumed by Justin. There was no room left for me. The final straw came when we went to the local waterpark. At the turnstiles, my pass scanned red. Sam slapped his forehead, looking sheepish for half a second. “Shit, I forgot to buy yours.” He shrugged, turning away. “You have your phone, right? Just buy one online. Justin and I are heading to the roller coasters first.” He grabbed Justin’s arm and walked through the gates without looking back once. He seemed to have completely forgotten that this entire trip had been his idea. He had clapped me on the back two weeks ago, promising: “Just show up, man. I’ve got everything covered.” Standing alone outside the gate, a profound, hollow exhaustion settled over me. I didn’t buy a ticket. I turned around and took a cab back to the empty rental house. My pocket buzzed. It was my mother. “Mason? Are you having fun with your friends?” I looked down at the floorboards, my voice barely audible. “Mom… can you pick me up early?” There was a slight pause on the line. She seemed to sense something, but didn’t press. “I’m already in town. Pack your things.” “Okay.” I hung up, turned around, and nearly collided with someone standing right behind me. Corinne was wearing an oversized faded blue T-shirt, her hair damp from a recent shower, water droplets clinging to the ends of her collarbones. “You’re leaving?” she asked, her voice quiet. “Did you and Sam fight?” I hadn’t expected her to be here. My hands fumbled awkwardly, unsure of where to rest. Thankfully, she had never paid much attention to anyone who wasn’t Justin. I offered a vague excuse about family plans, and she accepted it without pressing further. I turned to head upstairs, but a sharp, rhythmic clicking sound stopped me in my tracks. I looked down. In her left hand, Corinne was turning over a slim, vintage silver mint tin, her thumb flicking the metal hinge open and shut with practiced agitation. A cold chill ran down my spine, and before my brain could stop my mouth, the words spilled out: “Why are you taking your meds again?” The clicking stopped instantly. The silence in the hallway became absolute. In that frozen second, I knew I had crossed a lethal line. This was a secret known only to the boy from the screen. Corinne refused to let her family know about her diagnosis; she had hidden her mood stabilizers in an old mint tin for years. Seeing her act so bright and grounded over the past few weeks had made me forget who she really was underneath. Volatile. Obsessive. Possessive to the point of suffocation. I remembered the day I finally powered up my old phone. My secondary messaging app had exploded with hundreds of frantic, unhinged notifications, flooding the screen: “Where are you?” “Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong? I can change, I swear I can.” “Please don’t go…” “Are you abandoning me too?” “You liar. I don’t care where you run, I will find you.” I wanted to step back, but my shoes felt glued to the hardwood floor. Corinne took a slow, deliberate step toward me, her eyes locking onto mine with terrifying intensity. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Did I ever say there was medicine in here?”
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