For six years, I was basically an NPC—a background character in someone else’s spicy romance novel. Then I married the male leads’ father. I thought I’d finally cashed in my ticket to the quiet life of a wealthy housewife. But on my wedding night, I had a dream that my new husband, Harrison Cole, was just another one of the heroine’s conquests. I woke up in a cold sweat. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—of course, it was too good to be true. I’d been a nobody for six years, just drifting through life. The one time I stumble upon a handsome, successful CEO, did I really think he was meant for *me*? I was delusional, thinking I was getting my happily-ever-after. The truth, as the dream so kindly revealed, was that Harrison only married me out of spite. The story’s heroine, Elara, had laughed in his face, telling him he was too old to be chasing after a young, beautiful girl like her. So, he married me—a woman who was inferior to Elara in every conceivable way—just to prove a point. To show her he was over it. But you can’t fight fate, especially not in a romance novel. Harrison was one of the main love interests, and his destiny was tangled up with hers. In the end, I was just collateral damage in their grand, dramatic love story. The one silver lining? Even though we were technically married, I hadn’t taken his virginity. Or, you know, whatever the equivalent is for a man his age. That was reserved for the heroine. It wasn’t something a side character like me could even dream of touching. My eyes fluttered open and met a pair of dark, intense ones staring back at me. The master bedroom, done up in a modern, minimalist style, felt huge. Harrison, fresh from a shower, loomed over me. The scent of sandalwood clung to him as he tilted my chin up. “You look pale. Everything okay?” I went rigid as a board. “I, uh… have a killer headache,” I stammered, feeling like a deer in headlights. “Maybe we could… try again some other time?” He paused for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, he loosened the belt of his robe, slid into bed beside me, and pulled up the covers. I held my breath, afraid to move a muscle. But Harrison kept his distance, leaving enough space between us for another person. You’d think I’d be up all night, but the sheer stress of it all knocked me out cold. * From the next day on, I made it my mission to play matchmaker. I’d avoid Harrison as much as possible, but I always kept tabs on Elara’s whereabouts. “Oh, I heard Elara is at the gallery downtown this afternoon,” I’d say casually. And just like that, Harrison would find a reason to leave the house, disappearing for hours. As for my three new stepsons, they were, of course, completely obsessed with her. I’d met them a few times before the wedding, but now, they were never around. Which was a relief, honestly. In my dream, those three were each crazier than the last. Compared to them, Harrison seemed like the most normal guy on the planet. Technically, he wasn’t even their real dad. He was their late father’s younger brother, only about ten years older than the boys themselves. After his brother and sister-in-law died in an accident, Harrison, still single, took them in and raised them. I guess it makes sense. The heroine of a story like this deserves only the best, most complicated backstories for her men. Not my circus, not my monkeys. My job was to be what I’ve been for the past six years: invisible. I’d wait for Harrison and Elara to finally get together, sign the divorce papers, take my settlement, and make a clean getaway. Thinking about it that way, life didn’t seem so bleak. A background character should never get involved with the main cast. The good news was, the plot was moving along right on schedule. As the “grand finale” from my dream got closer, the knot in my stomach slowly started to unwind. The massive mansion was usually empty, my only company being the housekeeper and the staff, who’d give me these pitying, “you-could-do-better” looks. I couldn’t care less. Harrison’s monthly allowance hit my bank account like clockwork. Life was peaceful until the night of Elara’s twenty-second birthday. I was scrolling through my phone when I saw a post from my youngest stepson, Leo—the only one I had on social media. It was a picture of Elara, radiant and beautiful, standing in the middle of a crowd in front of a giant birthday cake. The entire Cole family was there. And that’s when it hit me. My wedding anniversary was Elara’s birthday. I didn’t know how to feel. On one hand, without Harrison, I never would have worn seven-figure jewelry or lived in this kind of luxury. But on the other… this wasn’t my life. I was made for the sidelines. Getting this close to the main characters, you’re bound to get blinded by the light. I’d saved up a decent amount of my own money. As I was quietly packing a suitcase in my room, ready to make my escape, an unexpected visitor barged in. I instinctively kicked the suitcase under the bed, my eyes landing on a stunningly handsome face. “Leo?” I asked, confused. He flashed a bright, boyish smile and walked toward me, backing me into a corner. His long fingers rested on my shoulders, his voice a low, mournful whisper. “Stepmom, what am I supposed to do? I can’t win against them.” I stared at him, my mind racing. It took me only a second to understand what he meant. He let out a soft sigh. “My two older brothers are bad enough. Now you’ve pushed old man Harrison back into her orbit. What chance do I have?” My back was pressed against the cold wall. I looked into his smiling, amber-colored eyes and felt a chill crawl up my spine. My voice trembled. “Well, maybe you should take a moment to reflect on… your own lack of charm?” I swear, I meant to say it nicely. But us background characters, we’re not exactly known for our high EQ. He didn’t seem offended. In fact, his smile widened. He leaned in closer, his voice a seductive murmur. “Really?” Okay, I was starting to lose my cool. What was this? Was he trying to prove his charm? Test my self-control? Listen, we side characters never get to have any fun. We just watch from the cheap seats as the main cast lives out their epic love sagas. Harrison ignoring me was one thing, but was I really about to get pushed around by my own stepson? Something inside me snapped. I looped my arms around his neck, my voice dropping to a purr. “That’s right. You’re not nearly as charming as your uncle.” His lips curved. “Is that so? Then why do you look like you’re about to kiss me?” “You’re imagining things,” I said, my smile feeling tight. The boyish charm was gone, replaced by something sharper. He tilted my chin up. “Tell you what. Why don’t we just… settle? After all, no one’s competing with me for *you*.” “Excuse me?” I said through gritted teeth. He ignored me, his fingers toying with a strand of my hair. “Who else would you settle for? My brothers? I doubt they even know your name. Or Harrison? Please. The man’s seen it all. You think he actually cares about you? You’re just a little trinket he brought home.” Leo’s smile was angelic, but his words were poison. “Aren’t I your best option, Stepmom?” “You’re insane,” I hissed. Was anyone in this godforsaken novel normal? He just raised an eyebrow, his arm snaking around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Let’s make a bet, then.” My eyes widened as his lips gently brushed against the corner of my mouth. Time seemed to stop. The only sound was the heavy, approaching footsteps from down the hall. The world snapped back into focus when Leo was violently shoved away from me. I looked up and met Harrison’s furious, dark eyes. Leo, however, just grinned. “Don’t look at us like that. The mood was right. We just got carried away.” “She’s young, she doesn’t know better,” Harrison said, his voice dangerously low, his glare fixed on Leo. “What’s *your* excuse for seducing her?” * I sat ramrod straight on the living room sofa, the silence thick enough to cut with a knife. The tension finally broke when the front door swung open and a slender girl in a short skirt breezed in. It was Elara. Harrison’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing here so late?” She flashed a dazzling smile. “Julian told me I should just crash here tonight. What, did you think I came to see you, *Uncle* Harrison?” She drew out the last two words, dripping with playful provocation. A moment later, a tall figure appeared behind her. It was Julian, the oldest brother, casually tossing a set of car keys in his hand. He scanned the room, a look of amusement on his face. “What’s all this, then? Family meeting?” The instigator of the whole mess, Leo, was slumped on the armchair, looking bored. I had no idea what to say, so I kept my mouth shut. To my surprise, Elara marched right up to me, her arms crossed. “Auntie,” she began, though it sounded more like an accusation, “you look awful. Did you do something to upset Uncle Harrison and Leo?” I blinked. How was I supposed to answer that? *Oh, you know, your boy-toy Leo just kissed me, and his uncle caught us.* When I didn’t answer, she raised an eyebrow and turned to Harrison. “If she made you angry, why don’t you just lock her in the basement?” The room went dead silent. Elara laughed, a strange edge to her voice. “Julian and Leo have both been in the ‘time-out room.’ What makes her so special?” So that’s what that creepy, hidden door in the cellar led to. A punishment room. “That’s enough, Elara,” Harrison said, his voice dropping a few degrees. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. “Was I wrong? Are you really yelling at me… for *her*?” I finally looked up, my gaze locking with Julian’s. He was leaning against the doorway, looking entirely unbothered, and gave me a slight, lazy tilt of his head. “So,” he drawled, “what did you do?” I took a deep breath and let out a cold, sharp laugh. “I kissed your brother.” The silence that followed was even heavier than before. Elara’s jaw dropped. “What?! You’re his stepmother! Have you no shame?” she shrieked. Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly, turning to Leo. “That true?” Leo, who clearly hadn’t expected me to just announce it, blinked once before shrugging with a disarmingly innocent smile. “Yep.” “Enough,” Harrison growled. He strode over, hooked an arm under my legs, and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, heading for the stairs. Elara stubbornly blocked his path. “Harrison, you tell me right now! She did that, and you’re not going to punish her?” “Punish her?” he repeated, his patience clearly wearing thin. He shot a look over his shoulder. “Julian. You brought her here, you deal with her.” Julian smirked. “Elara, you heard the man. Father thinks you’re being a nuisance.” She stomped her foot, her face red with anger, and stormed out of the house. Julian, however, just stayed put, thoughtfully spinning his keys. Harrison stopped, his voice like ice. “Go after her.” Julian raised an eyebrow. “She didn’t run off because of me. Why should I be the one to comfort her?” The implication was crystal clear. I, still slung over Harrison’s shoulder, looked pleadingly at Leo. *He’s not going, so you go!* I mouthed silently. I thought he said he couldn’t compete? Here was his golden opportunity! But the kid didn’t move a muscle. In fact, he just sank deeper into the sofa, looking even lazier than before. Did he not understand? Harrison’s jaw tightened. Seeing that neither of his nephews was going to move, he set me down on my feet, giving my lower back a firm pat. “Go to your room,” he said calmly. “Where are you going?” I asked. He was already rolling up his sleeves. “Elara’s out there alone, and she’s upset. I’m going to make sure she’s okay.” “And what is she to you that you have to be the one to look after her?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. Harrison’s dark eyes swept over me for a second before he turned and walked out the door, his footsteps heavy. He never answered my question. “Get some sleep,” was all he said. I stared at his retreating back. I shouldn’t have asked. This was exactly what I wanted, wasn’t it? Everything was going according to the script. Harrison was one of Elara’s men. It was only natural for him to worry about the proud, impulsive young girl. Still. If Julian, or Leo, or even both of them had chased after her, I wouldn’t have felt this… pang. I guess seeing your own husband run off to care for another girl stings, no matter the circumstances. After all, when Harrison proposed, for a fleeting moment, I actually thought there might be something real between us. * The quiet settled in again. “So, you two really kissed?” Julian asked, his voice casual. Leo struck the same pose as before, an innocent curve to his lips. “Couldn’t help it. A crime of passion.” I glanced at them both, smoothed the wrinkles from my dress, and started walking upstairs. “Couldn’t get Elara, so you moved on to an easier target?” Julian’s voice, sharp and cold, followed me. Leo didn’t confirm or deny. I shut my bedroom door, blocking out the world. My mind drifted. Harrison’s brother and his wife had died young, leaving behind three sons. The two oldest had taken their mother’s last name, the youngest had their father’s. Each one was completely different, and their relationships with each other, and with Harrison, were distant at best. Whatever. It was a romance novel. Everything was designed to serve the heroine. I don’t know how much time passed before my phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. It was a picture. A handsome, serious man in a tailored suit, kneeling to tie a young woman’s shoelace. Then the texts started. 【You’re such a slut. Marrying him isn’t enough, you have to seduce Leo too?】 【You’ve got it all wrong. The old man is mine. And so is Leo. Don’t you dare take advantage of Leo’s innocence to trick and play with him.】 【I’m going to expose you for who you really are!】 I shut off my phone, my face a mask of indifference. Could someone please tell me why *her* precious, innocent Leo was currently climbing into *my* bed? The boy yawned and started to pull back the covers like he owned the place. I shot up, blocking him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Leo just blinked at me. “It’s raining.” “And?” “And there’s thunder,” he whispered. “I’m scared.” As if on cue, a loud clap of thunder rattled the windows. He looked up at me with big, pathetic puppy-dog eyes. I scoffed. “It’s raining, and you’re not with Elara? What are you doing here?” He smiled and snuggled closer. “They don’t need me over there.” “I don’t need you here, either,” I said, my own smile just as fake. He paused, his fingertips gently tracing the corner of my eye. “Then why does it look like you’ve been crying?” I slapped his hand away. “Leo, listen to me. Harrison and I are getting a divorce soon. You don’t need to use me to get a rise out of him.” He stared at me for a long moment. I hooked a finger under his chin. “You’re a very pretty boy, I’ll give you that. But you’re not pretty enough to make me lose my mind.” He caught my hand and brought it to his lips, his voice a cool, clear whisper. “You don’t have to lose your mind. You just have to enjoy it.” His eyes were shimmering. He leaned over me, propping himself up on his arms, caging me in. His perfectly sculpted face was inches from mine, a pout on his lips. Honestly? A delicacy like this, practically served on a silver platter… it was hard not to be tempted. But I’d resisted Harrison for this long. If I turned around and slept with his nephew, what would that make me? All my hard work would be for nothing. But then I looked at Leo’s face again, my thumb tracing his soft lips. Fine. Harrison was out playing hero to Elara. The two main characters weren’t here. Just a little taste… what could it hurt? After all, having a nineteen-year-old as your first kiss… it kind of made me feel young again. Leo let me tilt his chin up, let me clumsily press my lips to his. He smelled like fresh rain, innocent and non-threatening. I climbed onto his lap, just as the bedroom door swung open.

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At my boyfriend’s birthday party, his best friend suggested a game: blindfolded, he had to guess which girl was his girlfriend just by touching her hand. His childhood friend, Chloe, squeezed through the crowd and held out her hand with a mischievous grin. “Don’t mess around, kid,” he laughed, pushing her away. “Your hands get all dry and flaky in the winter. No way you’re my girlfriend.” He walked over to another girl, took her hand, and declared, “My girlfriend’s hands smell amazing.” The room erupted in laughter. They jeered at him for not even recognizing his own girlfriend. I was pushed to the side, watching as he tried to defend himself, his face flushed. He even grabbed Chloe, who was laughing the loudest, and pulled her into a headlock. “Tell them, you little punk! Did I recognize you or not?” Suddenly, the whole thing just felt… pointless. I turned and walked out of the room. 1. Asher’s family was ridiculously wealthy. I almost got lost trying to find my way out of the home theater. By the time I made it to the living room, Chloe was there, directing the staff on what fruit platters to prepare and which wines to bring up from the cellar. She was completely at ease, chatting and joking with them like she was the lady of the house. She saw me. Her eyes flickered over me for a second before she looked away, pretending to be busy. Right. When Asher was around, she was a completely different person, all sweet and calling me “Lily-sis” like she was my adoring little sister. I’d fought with Asher about her a few times. Their easy, natural chemistry made me feel like an outsider. The first time I tried to break up with him, he smashed his phone in a fit of rage and swore he’d never be the one to come crawling back. A day later, he was standing under my apartment window, his eyes red-rimmed, begging me not to leave him. His voice, a deep, magnetic baritone, cracked with emotion. It was impossible not to feel my resolve crumble. He explained that he and Chloe had been friends since they were kids. They were practically family. Her family had recently gone bankrupt, and his mom had specifically asked him to look out for her. He saw her as a little sister, nothing more. “If you’re really, really uncomfortable with it, I’ll delete her number,” he’d said, his voice pleading. “Baby, you’re the only one that matters to me.” And right there, in front of me, he blocked her on everything. I couldn’t stay mad at him. I gave in. A few days later, Chloe was kneeling outside my apartment building in the pouring rain. I don’t know how long she’d been there, but I only found out when Asher showed up. “Baby, don’t you think this is a little much?” he’d asked, holding his umbrella over her head, getting soaked himself. “Go home, kid,” he’d said to her gently. “Don’t make a scene. What if you get sick? I’ll have to answer to your mom…” 2. He sighed, but he didn’t unblock her. Chloe just kept crying, her shoulders shaking, drawing the attention of my nosy neighbors. “Lily-sis, I swear on my life, I only see him as a brother,” she’d sobbed. “I’ve never crossed any lines. Please don’t make him do this to me. My mom thinks I did something to hurt him, and she cries all the time…” “My family is broke, Lily-sis. My life is already so hard. Are you trying to push me over the edge?” “Don’t I deserve to have friends? I was happy for you two! What did I do to deserve this?” Her words, choked with tears, echoed in my ears. I tried to pinpoint why she bothered me so much. It was the way she so effortlessly inserted herself between us. If Asher and I were sharing a drink, she’d squeeze in and tease him. She’d rummage through his bag, bring up inside jokes from their childhood that I couldn’t understand, and make me feel completely left out. Whenever he brought me to his parents’ house, she’d “coincidentally” drop by and act all chummy with his mom. So, was it my fault? Was I being too sensitive? I stood there in the rain, holding my own umbrella, silent. 3. After a while, my mom came down and brought us all inside. She gave Chloe a change of clothes. “My daughter can be a little stubborn,” she’d said, looking from me to Asher. “If you two are making her feel uncomfortable, then there’s a problem. Don’t push her, Asher. Until you figure this out, you and Lily should just break up.” “No!” Asher’s eyes were red as he immediately rejected the idea. My mom pulled me aside. She looked at me and sighed. “Honey, I don’t think blocking her is the answer. It’s just a temporary fix. Why don’t you give it another chance, see how things go? Or, if it’s too much, just end it now.” I was torn. In the end, when I walked back into the living room, Asher looked like he was about to fall apart. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t break up with him. So I compromised. They went back to how they were before, except now, Chloe made a conscious effort to keep her distance when I was around. What they did when I wasn’t there, I didn’t want to know. But tonight’s little party game was a stark reminder. The bond between childhood friends, even if you try to sever it, just comes back stronger. Whatever. I didn’t care anymore. My mom had seen it from the beginning. It was my own fault for dragging it out. I should have ended it the first time. As I was leaving, Chloe was humming a cheerful tune as she went upstairs, like a victorious general. A little while later, my phone rang. It was Asher, sounding a little drunk. I thought I’d be angry, or hurt, or that I’d cry. But looking at his name on the screen, I just felt… calm. “Baby, where are you? Are you mad at me? I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Joe’s girlfriend used your hand cream. I just guessed wrong. You can punish me, okay?” He was drunk, and his voice had that playful, pleading tone he knew I couldn’t resist. “We should break up…” 4. Before I could finish, Chloe’s voice cut in. “Seriously, Asher, are you hiding in the bathroom? You’re the birthday boy, what are you doing out here? Everyone’s waiting for you to cut the cake.” “Don’t mess around, kid, I’m on the phone.” “Don’t ‘kid’ me. Stop hiding. Joe and his girlfriend are fighting because of you. You need to go fix it.” I heard the rustle of clothes, the sound of a scuffle. He was probably laughing as she playfully hit him. “You wanna die, kid?” he said, still laughing. “Yes, yes, I do,” she retorted. “Now get in there. Joe’s girlfriend is crying.” He brought the phone back to his ear, his voice clearer now, the drunken slur gone. “Baby, what did you just say? Never mind, just come back inside. We’re cutting the cake.” He hung up. He and his childhood friend went back to the party. I rolled down the car window, the night air feeling cool against my skin. The call had ended a while ago, but I kept turning my phone screen on and off. My wallpaper was a picture of us. His profile was ridiculously handsome, and he was sneaking a kiss on my cheek, looking at the camera like he was showing me off to the world. After a long moment, I changed the wallpaper to a picture of a cat I had saved a while ago. It was a beautiful, lazy-looking cat, one paw raised in a beckoning gesture. Its eyes were so serene, so detached. I was actually chuckling at the picture when I got a text from one of Asher’s friends. 5. Asher’s Friend: *Lily, your boyfriend just got into a fight with Joe. Where are you? Can you come back and explain? It’s getting really awkward here.* I wasn’t going to reply, but then I remembered my hand cream. It was a special blend my grandmother made for me, with rare ingredients. You couldn’t buy it anywhere. I had our driver, Mr. Wilson, take me back. When I walked in, the room was a mess. Broken glass littered the floor. A lot of people had left, but a few familiar faces remained. Joe’s girlfriend was sobbing in a corner, with Chloe comforting her, handing her tissues and draping a jacket over her shoulders. Asher was sitting with one foot propped up on a stool. He glanced up when I came in, looking annoyed, then looked away. He looked like he wanted to say something but was holding himself back. He’d always been the pampered golden boy. This was probably the first time he’d ever had a real fight with a friend. Joe was being held back by a couple of guys. He was drunk and angry. Normally, he was Asher’s biggest hype man. He would never have laid a hand on him. I remembered he was the one who had suggested the guessing game in the first place, and the one who had cheered the loudest. “Lily, you’re here,” the friend who had texted me said. “You’re Asher’s girlfriend. Can you say something?” 6. He gave me a look, trying to get me to smooth things over. I smiled faintly. “Excuse me,” I said, looking at Joe’s girlfriend. “Where is my hand cream?” She stared at me, stunned. “Lily-sis,” Chloe cut in. “I don’t think that’s the most important thing right now.” I shot her a look. “You’re not going to tell me? Fine. I’ll just call the police and have them check the security footage. You probably don’t know this, but the ingredients in that little bottle of hand cream cost over five hundred dollars. That’s enough to press charges.” “So, you can either give it to me now, and we can pretend I just ‘misplaced’ it, or we can call the police and let them find it. Your choice.” Joe’s girlfriend immediately stopped crying. She pulled my hand cream out of her purse. “Is this it? I’m so sorry.” I took it, checked it, and put it in my bag. Asher’s friend tried to play peacemaker. “See? It was all a misunderstanding! Your girlfriend just accidentally used Lily’s hand cream, that’s why Asher guessed wrong. You know Asher, he’d never mistake anyone for his girl! He loves her more than anything!” “Yeah, yeah, he even recognized Chloe, there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize his own girlfriend! It was just a mix-up!” another friend chimed in. Joe’s girlfriend looked at Joe, then at Chloe. “Chloe gave me this hand cream,” she said quietly. “She said if I liked it, I could have it. I didn’t think anything of it, but now… maybe I should have.” Chloe laughed. “Don’t make it so complicated. I thought it was Asher’s, and you liked it, so I gave it to you. It’s just a bottle of hand cream, Asher wouldn’t mind, right? Don’t be so dramatic…” She looked so innocent, so helpless. Joe, enraged, slapped his girlfriend across the face. “Did I say you could take it?! Are you that pathetic? And now you’re blaming Chloe for your own mistake?” Chloe gasped and rushed to pull Joe away. 7. The room descended into chaos again as everyone tried to pull them apart. But they were all comforting Joe’s girlfriend, telling her he was just drunk. “I’m so sorry, Stacey,” Chloe was saying, holding Joe back while trying to calm her down. “He’s just had too much to drink. Tomorrow, he’ll be on his knees, begging for your forgiveness.” She even threw a glass of water in Joe’s face to get him to calm down. And he did. Stacey just stood there, her hand on her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. This time, she wasn’t crying. I was already at the door, but I couldn’t just leave. I walked back and stood in front of her. “Do you want to hit him back, or do you want me to call the police?” I said. “I’m here. I’ll help you.” She hadn’t been crying, but at my words, tears started streaming down her face. “Lily-sis, don’t you think calling the police is a bit much?” one of the guys said. “We’re all friends here. Joe didn’t mean it. If you let her hit him back, I promise he won’t fight back.” I had been bottling up my anger for so long. My hand was itching. So, while he was still talking, I slapped him. SLAP! The room went completely silent.

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My sorority sister, a freshman pledge, posted a half-naked selfie in the new member group chat and tagged my boyfriend: Her: *Oops, my hand slipped! The wifi is so slow, I can’t delete it!* Her: *Asher, no peeking.* 😉 Her: *That goes for the rest of you boys, too! Hmph!* Someone pointed out that I was also in the chat. She then adopted a sickeningly sweet, baby-talk voice to apologize. I was about to brush it off, but then I saw Asher’s lazy reply: Asher: *Too late, I already looked. Your fault for having slow wifi.* 1. My fingers froze over the keyboard. The word “whatever” I had been about to type suddenly seemed glaringly out of place. The freshman, Chloe, immediately tagged me. Chloe: *Ugh, he’s such a creep! Big sis, can you do something about this pervert? He’s totally taking advantage of my slow internet!* Asher sent a cute, “my bad” emoji. One I’d never seen him use before. I stared at the screen for a moment, then a slow smile spread across my face. I deleted “whatever” and typed a new message. Me: *Have you tried the campus wifi card? Super fast, you can post and delete in a flash. Perfect for all your… accidental slips. Xoxo.* The chat went silent for a beat. Then, Asher was the first to reply. Asher: *?* Asher: *Lily, Chloe was just joking. Do you have to be like that?* One of the frat boys chimed in. Frat Boy 1: *Yeah, Lily, she was just trying to liven things up. No big deal.* Frat Boy 2: *I, for one, support Chloe’s right to accidentally post selfies. What else are we supposed to look at?* Frat Boy 3: *Preach.* It was a domino effect. One after another, the guys in the chat jumped to her defense. It wasn’t surprising. Chloe was the only girl in the new pledge class who was a total pick-me. The first thing she did when she joined the chat was post a “get to know me” video of herself in a fluffy, long-sleeved bunny pajama set. Asher and I, as the heads of the new member committee, had both seen it. At the time, he’d complained to me, “It’s the middle of August. Isn’t she hot in that? Does she really think that’s cute?” I thought he couldn’t stand her. But now, it was a different story. Me: *If you want to sell your body, take it to the street. If you want to watch porn, there are websites for that. This is a new member chat.* The moment I sent the message, the chat went dead. A second later, a notification popped up on my screen: *You have been removed from the group chat.* The admin who did it? Asher. 2. My hand tightened around my phone. I immediately blocked and deleted his number. Not five minutes later, my phone rang. “Come downstairs.” We had been going door-to-door all day, promoting the new member drive. A minute before he’d gone back to his dorm, he’d been complaining, “I hate recruitment. It’s such a pain.” And now he was all cozy with Chloe. I swallowed my anger and went downstairs. He was holding a piece of cake. “Still mad?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing. “I’m sorry, okay, Your Highness?” This was his M.O. When he was trying to placate me, he was always the first to apologize. I didn’t take the cake. I just looked at him. The cool, early autumn breeze ruffled his hair. He had a fond, indulgent smile on his face, his eyes soft and sincere. It was a look that could melt any girl’s heart. But I just frowned. I’d only seen him look like that once before, four years ago, on the night I agreed to be his girlfriend. He had looked like he’d just been handed the entire world. So, who had made him so happy this time? “You’re her big sis,” he said when I didn’t move, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. “Why are you getting so worked up over a pledge?” “We have interviews tomorrow,” he continued with a sigh. “It’s going to be so awkward. What are people going to think? You’re not a kid anymore, Lily.” I didn’t answer his question. I just asked my own. “When did you two start talking?” We’d been together since we were sixteen. We’d always been straight with each other. He frowned. “Talking? Lily, don’t make it sound so sordid. I’m the head of the committee. It’s my job to answer questions from the new pledges.” Just then, his phone rang. It was an unknown number, no contact name. But the moment he saw it, his eyes lit up. He knew the number by heart. He was about to answer, but then he caught my eye and hesitated. “It’s probably one of the pledges,” he said, the explanation completely unnecessary. I scoffed. “If it’s so normal, then answer it.” He cleared his throat and put the call on speaker. Before he could say anything, Chloe’s sickly-sweet voice filled the air. “I got the stockings! So, this is what you like, huh? Want to see me try them on?” Asher’s hand trembled, his face a mask of panic. He was about to speak, but I cut him off with a bright, cheerful voice. “I don’t know if your big bro wants to see, but your big sis sure does.” 3. The other end of the line went dead silent. It took Asher a moment to recover. “Don’t mess around, Chloe. Your big sis is here.” “Oh! Big sis, don’t get the wrong idea!” Chloe said, her voice a mix of feigned innocence and smug triumph. “Asher just said a few days ago that my legs were so long and skinny, they’d look great in stockings, so I asked him to help me pick some out.” I fought back the urge to scream. “Is that so?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, I’ve seen your chest, but I haven’t seen your legs. So, show us.” Her prepared speech died in her throat. She was speechless. “Don’t be late for your interview,” Asher said, coming to her rescue. He quickly hung up the phone. The moment the screen went dark, I saw his wallpaper. It used to be a picture of me. Now, it was Chloe’s half-naked selfie. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, staring at his embarrassed face. “It was just a joke,” he said, his voice strained. “She’s always like that, she doesn’t mean anything by it.” Looking at this person who was becoming more and more of a stranger, I suddenly laughed. I took the cake from him. “I’ll do the presentation for the welcome event, you can do the talking,” I said, my voice calm. “You’ve worked hard.” I changed the subject, not wanting to push him any further. He looked surprised, his eyes filled with a strange expression as he studied me. But before he could say anything, a notification popped up on his phone. A special alert for a specific contact. A small smile touched his lips. He waved goodbye and walked away. I watched him go, my heart sinking. The wind whipped at my clothes, a sudden, sharp chill. I turned and threw the cake in the trash. 4. The day of the interviews, right when we were at our busiest, Asher, who was supposed to take over for me, was nowhere to be found. He didn’t answer his phone, didn’t reply to my texts. He finally showed up two hours later, strolling in with a boba tea in one hand, a girl in a plaid skirt trailing behind him. I recognized her immediately. It was Chloe. She was wearing a full face of makeup, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she skipped over to me. “Hi, big sis! You must be exhausted!” she chirped. “It’s all my fault, I got lost. I had to bother Asher to come and get me. I’m so, so sorry.” It was the middle of the day, and the sun was scorching. The air conditioning in the interview room was broken, and the small space was hot and stuffy. I was sweating, I hadn’t eaten all morning, and my patience was wearing thin. “She’s new, she doesn’t know her way around,” Asher said, seeing the look on my face. “I just went to pick her up.” “Hehe, thank you, big bro! You’re the best!” Chloe gushed, completely ignoring me as she wrapped her arms around Asher’s arm, pressing her chest against him. The top buttons of her shirt were undone, revealing a patch of pale skin and… a few faint, red marks. Asher’s eyes flickered down to her chest, then quickly away, a faint blush on his cheeks. My friend, another one of the committee heads, nudged me. I felt a wave of nausea. It was early autumn, not spring. Asher turned and met my gaze. He stiffened and gently pushed Chloe away. I didn’t hold back. “What road takes two hours to walk? Did you get lost, too, Asher?” “She had to put on makeup,” he said, his tone defensive. “That takes time. And she always sleeps in, so she hadn’t eaten breakfast. I just took her to get something to eat, is that a crime?” My friend couldn’t take it anymore. “Like any of us have eaten,” she said pointedly. “Chloe’s different,” Asher frowned. “She’s too skinny. If she doesn’t eat, she gets low blood sugar.” He paused, his eyes landing on my face. Because I hadn’t eaten all morning, my lips were pale and chapped. He flinched, remembering that I had just been diagnosed with anemia. He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. He shoved the boba tea into my hand. “Here, you drink this,” he mumbled. “I’ll go get us some food.” I looked down at the boba tea. There was a smudge of lipstick on the straw. The same shade Chloe was wearing. “Sorry, big sis,” Chloe said, batting her eyelashes innocently. “I just wanted to taste his. You don’t mind, do you?” I couldn’t help but laugh. I adopted her baby-talk voice. “Actually, I do mind. What if you have, like, cooties or something?” Her face fell. Before she could say anything, I cut her off. “And by the way, the interviews are over. Sorry, Chloe, you missed your chance.” She looked stunned, her lip trembling as she looked at Asher. He stopped in his tracks, then turned and patted her on the head. “No, you didn’t,” he said softly. “I interviewed you myself. You did great.” There were five of us on the committee, and we each had six spots to fill. If Asher wanted to take Chloe, no one could stop him. He also took a few of the frat boys who had defended her in the group chat. I just shrugged. “Whatever. I sent you the presentation. Make sure you’re ready for tomorrow.” Seeing that I had backed down, he looked relieved. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” I didn’t. 5. While we were setting up for the new member welcome event, Asher was clearly giving me the cold shoulder. He was mad that I had ignored him the day before. Even when he handed me a bottle of water, his face was a mask of cold indifference. “Still not feeling well?” he asked. My friend pushed his hand away and gave me a boba tea, the same kind from yesterday. “Here, Lily, drink this. No cooties this time, I promise.” I thanked her and took it. Asher just stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he scoffed. “So petty.” He pulled out his phone and, with a flourish, rejected Chloe’s request for him to pick her up. “Happy now?” he asked, holding up his phone, a smug, triumphant smile on his face. But my eyes were fixed on the top of his screen. It was a chat with Chloe from that morning, at 2:00 AM. He had sent her a “good night” message with a kissy-face emoji. The last time he had called me was at 9:00 PM the night before. I just laughed and shook my head. Asher had clearly forgotten who I was. I didn’t get sad, I got even. *Angry?* Never. The ones who were about to be angry were them. 6. The welcome event started, and Chloe was late. Again. The faculty advisor for our organization was a stickler for punctuality, so Asher told her to sneak in through the back. She didn’t. She threw open the front doors with a loud bang, startling everyone. “Oops, sorry, I got lost again!” she chirped. “I’m so dumb!” The advisor’s face darkened. Asher quickly waved her over to a seat. She stomped her foot. “Don’t be mad at me, guys! It’s all Asher’s fault! He should have come to get me!” She then marched over, moved the nameplate with my name on it, and plopped down next to Asher, pouting up at him. He glanced at me, but I just stood in the corner, taking pictures like nothing was wrong. Seeing that I wasn’t bothered, he seemed a little disappointed. But he just put a finger to his lips. “Shh, the advisor is here.” “Oh, sorry, professor!” she said loudly, covering her mouth with her sleeve as she giggled. The girl on stage who had been interrupted rolled her eyes. “I have a severe allergy to stupidity,” she said, glaring at Chloe. “So, please, stay away.” Chloe looked offended, but Asher just chuckled. “You hear that, little dummy?” he whispered in her ear. She playfully slapped his arm a few times, then shot me a triumphant look. 7. After all the new members had introduced themselves, it was Asher’s turn to speak. The moment he stepped on stage, Chloe started clapping and cheering. “Wow, you’re so handsome, Asher! I love you!” She was sitting in the front row, swinging her legs back and forth. With every swing, her short skirt rode up, giving everyone a clear view of her underwear. Asher’s eyes darted down, then quickly away, a faint blush on his cheeks. “You’re the only one making a scene,” he said, trying to sound stern. She just stuck her tongue out at him and shot me another smug look. I just stood in the corner, recording the whole thing, waiting for the show to begin. And right on cue, the computer malfunctioned. The presentation wouldn’t open. So I suggested that Asher use his phone to project it onto the screen. He had no choice but to agree. But the moment he connected his phone, a gasp went through the room. His wallpaper, Chloe’s half-naked selfie, was now displayed on the giant screen for everyone to see. This version was much more… complete than the one she had posted in the group chat. Every part of her that was supposed to be covered was on full display. And a few parts that weren’t. It was obvious that this was a private picture she had sent him. But Asher had forgotten. He had just changed his wallpaper.

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My boyfriend’s electric razor was borrowed by his female “best friend.” When she returned it, it was covered in tiny, dark hairs. “Are these her armpit hairs?” I demanded, storming into the bathroom. Before my boyfriend could answer, a series of comments popped up in my vision, like a live stream chat. [LOL, this girlfriend is so petty. What else is a razor for if not for shaving?] [If she’s this mad about armpit hair, imagine if she knew the bestie used it to shave her bikini line. She’d probably have a heart attack.] [Don’t worry, guys. If she doesn’t throw a fit and start a huge fight, how will the male lead ever realize his true feelings? He’s been hiding behind the ‘best friend’ label for years because he’s scared of losing her. This is true love, I’m telling you!] [Just waiting for the crazy girlfriend to push him away so the bestie can swoop in and comfort him. Sparks will fly, and they’ll finally get their happily ever after!] My boyfriend’s annoyed voice snapped me back to reality. “So what if they are? We’re best friends, we don’t care about that stuff. Stop being so dramatic.” I just smiled and handed the razor back to him. “It’s your stuff. If you’re not grossed out, then it’s fine by me.” 1. Asher was a neat freak with a touch of OCD. Since we moved in together, I’d kept our apartment spotless. I hand-washed and ironed all his clothes, making sure there was never a single wrinkle. I mopped the floors twice a day, and I changed the sheets every three days. Normally, I would have meticulously cleaned every single hair off that razor before giving it back to him. But this time, I just handed it to him, hairs and all. Asher stared at me, stunned. The live stream chat in my head exploded. [WTF? Why isn’t she flipping out? Isn’t she supposed to have a full-blown meltdown and demand an explanation?] [Yeah, at this point in the story, the bestie and the male lead are still just friends. It’s the crazy girlfriend’s jealousy that pushes him into the bestie’s arms. If she doesn’t follow the script, what’s gonna happen to our girl?] [OMG, this stupid side character is going off-script. What is she planning?] I ignored the ridiculous comments and walked out of the bathroom. “I’m going to be late for work,” Asher called after me, grabbing my arm. He didn’t have to say it. I knew he didn’t want to use that razor and was hoping I’d clean it for him. But why should I have to clean up after another woman’s pubic hairs? “Oh,” I said flatly. “Then you should probably hurry up.” I gently closed the bedroom door behind me, ignoring the shocked look on his face, and calmly started packing my suitcase. 2. Asher and I met our freshman year of college. He was the student body president, and I was the top-ranked incoming student. We were assigned to co-host the orientation ceremony. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but he pursued me relentlessly. He wrote me heartfelt letters every morning and evening, brought me three home-cooked meals a day, and if I so much as glanced at something in a store window, it would appear on my desk the next day. When I was being bullied by some upperclassmen, he was always the first one there to defend me. Everyone said we were the perfect couple. Eventually, I was swept up in the romance of it all and agreed to be his girlfriend on his 18th attempt. The first time I heard about his female “best friend” was the night I said yes. We were watching a movie when his phone started buzzing incessantly. “It’s just my best bro,” he’d whispered in my ear. “Probably heard the good news and is calling to congratulate me.” “I’ll just take this outside.” I didn’t think much of it at the time. But he was on the phone for the entire movie. An hour and a half. When the movie ended, I was pushed along with the crowd, finally getting some fresh air. I saw him standing under a streetlight, moths fluttering around him. It was a hot summer night, and his arms were covered in mosquito bites, but he hadn’t moved an inch. As I got closer, I heard a cheerful, feminine voice on the other end of the line. “Can’t you stand a little closer to the light, dude? I can’t see your face.” “You’re finally in a relationship, and you’re just going to forget about your best friend, huh? We haven’t seen each other in, like, six months.” It hit me then. His best “bro” was a girl. I stared at Asher, and he had a pout on his face. “Don’t even start with me. It’s my first day in a relationship. You’ve been in one for six months.” I didn’t realize it then, but that was right when he had started pursuing me. Now, seeing the comments, it all made sense. My perfect, fairy-tale romance was just a lie, a childish game from the very beginning. [Poor guy. He didn’t even know his own heart back then.] [The bestie got a boyfriend first, so he got jealous and started dating someone else to compete with her. They were so close to being together!] [If only he had realized he was jealous back then, he wouldn’t have been stuck with this psycho for so many years. And now they’re about to get engaged!] That’s right. Asher and I were supposed to have our engagement party in seven days. We’d been together for seven years, from freshman year of college to my last year of my master’s program. He was a year older than me and had a great job in his hometown. After a year of long distance, he had proposed three months ago. Even though I knew that being with him meant leaving my home of over twenty years and starting a new life in a new city, I had said yes without a second thought. But now, I regretted it. 3. The apartment we were living in was supposed to be our marital home. His family had paid for it in full, and my family had paid for the renovations. As I calmly packed my bags, I tried to figure out how to get my family’s money back. The comments kept scrolling. [Wait, is she leaving him?] [This psycho doesn’t get that she’s just a plot device, does she? Stop messing with the story!] Just as I was zipping up my suitcase, Asher walked in, holding a brand-new razor. He saw my suitcase and frowned. “You’re just going back to campus for your thesis defense, right? Why are you packing so much?” [Oh, right! I forgot she had to go back for her defense.] [LOL, I actually thought she was breaking up with him for a second. I guess I overestimated her.] [What are you guys thinking? She’s obsessed with him. And their engagement party is in a week, the invitations have already been sent out. There’s no way she’s giving up that easily.] I ignored the comments. And Asher. I just tucked my ID and passport into my suitcase. He grabbed my hand. “We need to talk.” But his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and his frown deepened. “I might have to work late today,” he said quickly. “But I’ll still be able to take you to the train station. Just wait for me at home.” He rushed out the door. I thought he was really going to work. But then, that evening, I got a text from the train ticket app. *Your train ticket has been successfully changed.* 4. I jumped to my feet, my hand slipping from the handle of my suitcase. It crashed to the floor with a loud thud, scattering my panicked thoughts. My defense was tomorrow. I had specifically booked an evening train so Asher could take me to the station after work. But now, it had been changed to the earliest train the next morning. That meant I would have to rush straight from the station to the university, and if there were any delays, I would miss my defense. How could this have happened? Was it a weather delay? I immediately called the ticket app’s customer service. The moment I was connected to a representative, a chorus of “LOL”s filled the comments. [OMG, guys, she’s so dumb. She actually thinks it was a weather delay.] [She’s going to lose it when she finds out he was the one who changed it.] [Well, what was he supposed to do? Our strong, independent queen, the bestie, was finally showing a moment of weakness. He couldn’t just abandon her. It’s the crazy girlfriend’s fault for not realizing she was getting in the way of true love.] A chill went down my spine. Asher had changed my ticket? Just to be with his “best friend,” Sienna, who was feeling down? My hand was trembling as I dialed his number. “Asher,” I said, my voice surprisingly calm. “Why did you change my train ticket?” He just sighed. “Sienna got fired. She’s really upset.” “You know how she is,” he continued. “When she’s sad, she stress-eats, but she just had a stomach ulcer. As her best friend, I can’t just leave her alone.” It hit me then. “So,” I said, my voice flat, “when you rushed out this morning, you weren’t going to work. You were going to be with Sienna.” Suddenly, Sienna was on the phone. Her voice was hoarse. “It’s not his fault, Chloe. I’ll tell him to come back and take you to the station right now.” “I told him I was fine,” she added. “He’s always so overprotective.” Asher sighed again. I could picture the look of annoyance on his face. Whenever it came to Sienna, he always got impatient with me. Even the comments were getting annoyed. [This girlfriend is so annoying. She’s interrupting their special moment.] [They were so close to confessing their true feelings, and she had to ruin it.] [I’ll bet you a dollar she’s about to throw a tantrum. She really thinks that’s how you win a man’s heart.] [You don’t need to bet on that. Of course she’s going to go crazy.] Asher sighed again, his voice thick with frustration. “Chloe, I promise you won’t miss your defense. You don’t have to…” “I get it,” I said, cutting him off. Then, I hung up. 5. I immediately called a cab and went to the train station. I changed my ticket back to the original time. The comments were a stream of mockery. [Wait, what is she doing? She’s such a manipulative bitch.] [She’s just changing it back so he’ll see the notification and come running after her. She’s not going to cry and scream this time, she’s going to play the victim and run away?] [LOL, not everyone is the main character. Does she really think this is going to get his attention?] [This girl is so toxic. How is she supposed to be a foil to our sweet, down-to-earth bestie? I’m crying.] [Don’t worry, she won’t be able to keep it up for long. I guarantee she won’t get on that train until she sees him. She’s just wasting a ticket.] I just glanced at the comments and then looked away. As I was heading to the platform, I got a text from Asher. [You changed it back?] [Come on, don’t be like this. Sienna is worried about you. She even offered to come with me to see you off.] [See? Why can’t you be more like her?] [We’re on our way. Just wait for me. We’ll talk before you go. We agreed, never go to bed angry, remember?] The train pulled into the station. The crowd pushed me forward, into the bustling car. Ignoring the comments that were still flashing in my vision, I calmly found my seat. As the train started to move, I looked down at my phone and typed a reply. [Don’t bother, Asher.] [We’re breaking up.]

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My post-high school graduation trip with my childhood best friend, Ryan, was all planned out. Yellowstone. It was supposed to be epic. But as I was heading to the airport, I got a notification: my flight had been canceled. As I stood there, totally confused, words started scrolling across my vision, like comments on a livestream. 【Here we go! This is the part where the male lead, feeling sorry for the heroine who’s never been on a plane, cancels the side character’s ticket and gives it to her. The side character is about to totally lose it and have a huge fight with him.】 【Even when she buys a Greyhound ticket and finally gets there, the main couple will have already had a super romantic day together. They’ll be all over each other, and he won’t even have eyes for the side character anymore.】 【This is the fight that makes him realize how high-maintenance the side character is. Every time they argue, he discovers another amazing thing about the heroine. He pulls away from the side character, falls for the heroine, and boom, happily ever after. I ship it!】 【OMG, look! She’s about to text him! The drama is starting! Get your popcorn!】 I hesitated, my thumb hovering over Ryan’s contact. Should I text him? Before I could decide, my phone buzzed with a message from him. 【Hey Tatum. Winnie’s never been on a plane before, so I refunded your ticket and gave it to her.】 【Just buy a bus ticket and meet us there. We’ll wait for you in Wyoming!】 When I didn’t reply right away, another one came through. 【Are you mad? I know you’re not used to roughing it, you’re kind of a princess.】 【But Winnie can handle anything. Why is it always such a big deal with you?】 I stared at the screen, my blood running cold. The comments… they were all true. I bit my lip, opened the Greyhound app, and bought a ticket. Only, the destination wasn’t Wyoming. It was Denver. * 1 “Change of plans,” I told the Uber driver. “The bus station, please.” 【Weird. Why isn’t she fighting with him? If she doesn’t throw a fit, how is he supposed to get annoyed and see how much better our girl Winnie is? Ugh, she’s not following the script!】 【Right? She didn’t even text him back. And she bought a ticket to Denver? She’s just trying to make him feel guilty. What a classic mean girl move. No wonder he doesn’t like her. Growing up together means nothing!】 【Seriously, she’s the worst. Not like our Winnie. Winnie might not have money, but she’s strong and independent. A total girlboss.】 【This stupid side character needs to get with the program! Doesn’t she know she’s just an NPC? Her only job is to move the plot forward! How is Winnie supposed to shine if she has no one to contrast with?】 【OMG, switch screens! The main couple is checking in at the airport! Their sweet romance is about to take off in a few hours! Squeee!】 My grip on my phone tightened. Ever since Winnie transferred to our school, I couldn’t count the number of times Ryan had put her first and made me feel small. He always said she was strong and independent, that she knew the value of hard work because her family struggled. Meanwhile, I was just a spoiled princess who didn’t appreciate anything. We’d make plans to see a movie, and he’d cancel last minute. “Winnie said a $15 ticket is what she makes in three hours at her part-time job. She thinks it’s a waste.” “You should just go by yourself, Tatum. My parents work hard for their money, you know?” This from the guy whose parents had just bought him a $1,500 gaming laptop. Lunch for two became lunch for three. The grilled salmon and steak I ordered would somehow end up on Winnie’s plate. “You should eat more veggies, Tatum. You need to watch your figure.” I weighed 110 pounds. It went on and on. It got to the point where he even blew off my eighteenth birthday. I’d waited, refusing to blow out the candles until he showed up. Ten o’clock, eleven, then midnight. Not a single text. I tried to tell myself something important must have come up. Then I saw the video on someone’s Instagram story: Ryan and Winnie on his motorcycle, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as they tore down an empty street, laughing. The next day, all he said was, “Oh crap. I completely forgot it was your birthday.” The boy I grew up with was slowly being replaced, and there was always a Winnie-shaped shadow standing next to him. This trip was supposed to fix things. We’d planned it three years ago. Back then, his grades were terrible, and I was a shoo-in for the best magnet high school in the state. He begged me to go to the same public school as him, and like a fool, my heart melted and I agreed. He promised me then. After graduation, we’d go to Yellowstone. And there, under the big sky, he would officially ask me to be his girlfriend. We’d go to the same college, get married after we graduated. I actually believed him. For three years, I dragged his grades up from the gutter until he was getting the same scores I was. But ever since Winnie showed up, it was like I didn’t exist. He was tutoring her, taking her to do all the things she’d “never done before.” 2 He did well on his SATs, but not quite well enough for the top-tier schools. He just assumed I’d do what I’d always done: stick to our plan and go to the state university with him. He didn’t know I’d already accepted an offer from Georgetown, a thousand miles away. Honestly, giving up that magnet school for him was one of the biggest regrets of my life. After being left behind so many times over the past two years, I wasn’t that same girl who put Ryan before everything else. I was originally going to use this trip to tell him. To tell him that I was going to DC for college. But he ditched me first. For Winnie. 3 It was Ryan who broke our promise first. 4 Getting a last-minute flight to Wyoming in the summer is nearly impossible. Once Ryan canceled my ticket, there was no way I was getting another one. Even the bus tickets were selling out. Luckily, I used an app and paid a little extra to snag a seat to Denver. A nice one, too. I’d just settled in when a text from him came through. 【Tatum, you’re taking the bus, right?】 【Winnie says even though it’s a long ride, like, two whole days, the scenery is amazing. You don’t get views like that from a plane. You totally lucked out!】 I scoffed and put my phone on silent. No reply. To be honest, after he canceled my ticket, I thought about just going home. But after thinking it over, I decided to see it through. The trip wasn’t just about him. It was something *I* wanted to do, a step in my own life plan. I wasn’t going to let him ruin it. And stopping in Denver wasn’t a bad thing. I’d always wanted to see the city. This was the perfect chance. Still. He knew it was a grueling 40-hour ride. And he just went ahead and canceled my flight without even asking. He used my money, my time, my first-time-traveling-alone nerves, all to give Winnie her perfect first flight experience. Even though I knew I had to let him go, my chest still felt tight, a dull ache that wouldn’t go away. The comments flickered back into view. 【LOL, you gotta admit, the side character is obsessed. Even after getting ditched, she’s still chasing after him. Doesn’t even care that she has to take a detour through Denver first. Pathetic!】 【This is perfect! I was worried the romance would stall without the annoying side character there to stir things up. But look, she’s following the plot anyway. A few bumps in the road, but she’s still on her way. Awesome!】 【Does she have any self-respect? He dumps her over and over, and she just sticks to him like glue. This girl is the definition of a doormat, lmao!】 I glanced at the words and then looked away, out the window. 5 The bus ride was actually peaceful. It cost more for the better seat, but watching the landscape change outside my window, my mood slowly started to lift. The next day, I arrived in Denver. I bought a map, circled a few spots I wanted to see, and looked up some guides online. It was getting late, so I booked a hotel near a cool neighborhood I wanted to explore. Just as I was about to fall asleep, I saw Winnie’s new Instagram post. 【They gave the last room to this cute couple, so I guess I have to share with a certain someone tonight! 🙈】 The picture was of a hotel room. She didn’t show the whole bed, but you could see Ryan sitting on it, playing on his phone, perfectly reflected in the glass of a framed picture on the wall. My hand froze. My phone vibrated again. A text from Ryan: 【Where are you? Winnie said the views on the way are incredible, send me some pics.】 When I didn’t answer, a single【?】followed. I let out a bitter little laugh, set my alarm for the morning, and turned off my phone. Time to sleep. 【Ooh, look at her, playing hard to get. Does she really think ignoring him is going to make him miss her?】 【She’s looking up stuff to do in Denver, like she’s planning to stay for a few days. How selfish can you get? Doesn’t she know the main couple is waiting for her in Yellowstone?】 【Right? Didn’t you see how he was barely paying attention to Winnie until he saw the side character’s text? Can she just stop being a drama queen and let them have their moment? God, she’s such a villain!】 【It’s fine, let her pout. By the time she gets to Yellowstone, our couple will have already had their big romantic moment. Let’s see how she feels then, hahaha!】 【Yeah, let her play her games. We’ll get to see her completely lose it soon enough. I can’t wait!】 I ignored the comments and closed my eyes. 6 After a fantastic day exploring Denver, I finally opened the bus app again. There were plenty of tickets from here to Wyoming. But I didn’t buy one. Instead, I booked a ticket to Moab, Utah. Ryan, probably annoyed that I still hadn’t replied, called me. I fumbled my phone and accidentally answered. “Tatum? Where are you?” Hearing his voice, I paused. “What’s up?” I said, my tone flat. There was a silence on his end. He could obviously tell I was cold. He tried to sound cheerful. “Hey, where are you? I’ll come pick you up from the station.” “Don’t bother,” I said. “You guys have fun.” Predictably, he blew up. “Tatum, what is that supposed to mean? ‘You guys have fun?’” “This whole trip to Yellowstone was your dream! I canceled a trip to Florida with my buddies to come to this godforsaken place with you, and now you’re going to act like this?” When I stayed silent, his anger seemed to cool a bit. “Tatum,” he asked, his voice uncertain. “You’re not actually mad, are you? Just because I gave Winnie your ticket?” Before I could answer, he scoffed. “Oh my god, Tatum, that’s enough! How long are you going to drag this out? I already told you, I was just trying to give Winnie the experience of flying for the first time! Is that so much to ask? You have to make everything about you!” “Just keep up this attitude! No one else would ever put up with you but me!” The line went dead. I stared at the phone, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. *I* have an attitude? He’s the one who ditched me. I hadn’t even said a single mean thing to him. How was I the one with the problem? 【Hahaha, she’s so clueless. With our sweet, understanding heroine as a comparison, did she really think he was still going to baby her?】 【Playing games, going to Denver, now she’s trying to go to Moab! She really overestimates her importance to him, lmao!】 【Seriously, doesn’t this girl know when to quit?】 I didn’t bother with the comments. I spent three amazing days in Moab, then took a little side trip to see the incredible rock formations in the national parks. The vast desert landscapes and stunning arches were like nothing I’d ever seen back home on the East Coast. It was breathtaking. I stayed for another three days before finally booking my bus ticket to Wyoming. The weird thing was, over those nine or ten days, I barely thought about Ryan. It was like the moment I decided to let him go, he just faded from my mind. I’d read somewhere that it only takes a week to break a habit. I guess that’s true. Even in the quiet of the night, my thoughts rarely drifted to him. After that angry phone call, he hadn’t tried to contact me again. But his Instagram was blowing up. He and Winnie were together constantly. Sharing a room. Making heart shapes with their hands in front of the mountains. Posing at Old Faithful. They even bought matching flannel shirts in one of the tourist shops. He posted eight times a day, and every single picture was of the two of them. When I saw it, I felt… surprisingly, nothing. In fact, I thought they looked pretty good together.

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My mom was a kid herself when she had me with some punk. We’ve hated each other our whole lives. She hates me for ruining her reputation, her future, her chance at marrying someone decent. I hate her for giving me a childhood with no love, no dad, and no normal family. The day I was born, she tried to smother me. When I was a month old, she left me in the desert for the coyotes. When I was five, she tried to sell me to some creeps for three grand. Luckily, my nana saved me every single time. But I wasn’t some pushover. The day she took her SATs, I stood outside the school and yelled “Mom!” for everyone to hear. The day she moved into her college dorm, I made sure all her roommates knew she had a six-year-old kid. On her wedding day, she locked me in my room, so I jumped out the window and crashed the ceremony. She stared at me that day, her eyes filled with pure venom. She collapsed on the floor in her white dress and screamed, “Why do you have to destroy everything for me?” I finally made it to my 18th birthday. And true to form, she celebrated by throwing my birth certificate at my face. “Ivy,” she snarled, “I don’t owe you a damn thing.” 1 My birthday is on Thanksgiving. While every other family was having a turkey dinner, my mother, Melanie, was stuffing my clothes into a trash bag and tossing it on the front porch. “You’re 18 now. An adult. You can finally get the hell out,” she said. “I have no legal obligation to you anymore. You don’t need a guardian. Ivy, I never want to see your face again.” There was no love in her eyes. Just hate. Pure, uncut hatred. The feeling was mutual. I’ve always known she resented me. I was the living proof of the mistake she made when she was fourteen. I was the stain on her life. But how is that my fault? She’s the one who brought me into this world. I didn’t ask to be here. Why should I have to pay for her mistake with 18 years of her rage? So, from day one, I fought back. She never let me call her “Mom” in public. So I did it every chance I got, as loud as I could. After having me, she went back to high school, telling everyone she’d been out sick for a year. So on the day of her SATs, I ran up to the entrance of the testing center and yelled: “Mom! Good luck on your SATs! I know you’ll do great! Your baby loves you!” The look of shame on her face was priceless. She looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. I was ecstatic. It was payback for trying to smother me in my crib and leaving me as coyote food. But I underestimated her. Even with everyone whispering and pointing, her focus was so intense she still aced the test and got into a good state school. Fine. The day she moved into her dorm, I tagged along with my nana and made sure to introduce myself to her new roommates. “Please don’t judge my mom,” I’d said, putting on my best sad-puppy face. “She just got pregnant really young. But she’s super smart, and she’s the best mom in the whole world. I love her so much, so please don’t be mean to her!” By the end of move-in day, the whole campus knew that Melanie, the 20-year-old freshman, already had a six-year-old daughter. She was so furious she dragged me into a bathroom stall, shaking with rage. “Ivy, why won’t you just disappear? Why are you so determined to ruin my life? What did I ever do to deserve this?” What did *I* do? I didn’t do anything but be born. She made my life hell, so I made hers hell right back. 2 She barely came home during her four years of college. The first time she did, it was to announce she was getting married. I met the guy. He was handsome, had a good career, came from a nice family. Nana was thrilled. Melanie was even more thrilled. I was disgusted. How does someone as selfish and heartless as Melanie deserve to be happy? She couldn’t even be a mother to her own kid. What right did she have to marry a good man? She knew I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. On the morning of the wedding, she locked me in my bedroom. “Ivy,” she warned through the door, “today is the happiest, most important day of my life. Don’t you dare ruin it for me.” What a joke. Why would I listen to her? I climbed out my second-story window and ran all the way to the church. Just as the groom was about to put the ring on her finger, I sprinted down the aisle, grabbed onto her leg, and started wailing. “Mommy, are you going to leave me? After you get married, are you going to have new babies and forget about me? What will I do?” I screamed, “You can’t leave me! If you have other kids, I’ll just die!” Her dream wedding turned into a complete disaster. The groom slapped her across the face and stormed out. She collapsed onto the floor in her white wedding dress, shrieking my name. “Ivy! I-V-Y!” She cried like a madwoman for hours. Later that day, she took scissors to her wedding dress and then to her own hair, hacking it all off. She never dated again. She hated me more than ever. And I had never been happier. She was my mother. That’s all she would ever be. I didn’t want any brothers or sisters to suffer the way I did. Because being her child didn’t mean getting love. It only meant getting hate. Now, clutching the flimsy birth certificate, I turned and threw myself into my nana’s arms, sobbing. “Nana, Mom’s kicking me out! I’m only 18, I just got into college! What am I supposed to do? Does she want me to end up like her, getting knocked up by some guy before I even have a life?” *SMACK!* A sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Melanie’s face was contorted with rage, her hand raised to hit me again, but Nana grabbed her by the hair. “You hit her again, I swear to God,” Nana snarled. “She’s 18 years old. Don’t you think she has any pride? Melanie, I have never seen a worse mother than you.” Melanie glared back at her. “And I’ve never seen one like you, either!” Nana’s face faltered for a second. She shoved Melanie aside and took my hand. “Come on, Ivy. We’re going inside. This is my house, my name on the deed. Nobody has the right to kick you out.” I followed Nana into the house, shooting a triumphant smirk at my mother over my shoulder. 3 It’s always been like this. She hates me, but Nana loves me. Every time Melanie lost her temper with me, Nana would make her pay. The time she tried to smother me, Nana slammed her head into the toilet and held it there until she nearly drowned. The time she left me for the coyotes, Nana locked her in the shed with a stray dog for three hours. And the day she tried to sell me, Nana broke her leg. So, no. I’m not afraid of her. Whatever I do, Nana has my back. I’m just like her in that way. She was bold enough to have me at fourteen. I’m bold enough to do anything. As evening fell, I saw her alone in the kitchen, cooking. A whole Thanksgiving feast was on the table. Nana cut me a slice of pumpkin pie. “Ivy, now that you’re in college, make sure you still come home to visit. If you need money, you ask your mother. It’s her responsibility to support you through school.” I smiled and held my hand out to Melanie. “Mom, the two thousand a month for my allowance isn’t enough. All my friends get three. I need another grand.” She smacked my hand away with a serving spoon. “You push your luck and see if you get a penny. When I was in college, I lived on a thousand a month, and I managed just fine.” I took a bite of pie. “Yeah, but you were different, Mom. You had guys paying for your stuff. I don’t.” Her face darkened. “That’s a lie. I worked part-time and I was frugal. I never took money from a man.” Oh, please. I went right for the kill. “You had me when you were fourteen. Don’t you dare say you didn’t rely on a guy. You were smarter than me. You knew how to take shortcuts from the very beginning.” She looked like she was about to flip the table. I could see her chest heaving with rage. Mad? Good. She deserved it. She’s the one who had me so young. She’s the reason I got pointed at and whispered about my whole life, the reason kids bullied me at school. This was all on her. Seeing her angry was better than winning the lottery. I was so wound up I couldn’t sleep that night. I got up for a glass of water and heard arguing from her room. It was Nana, yelling at her. “It’s been 18 years, Melanie. Why can’t you let it go? What good does it do you to hurt Ivy like this? She will always be your daughter. You can’t change that. You need to try to be a good mother.” I peeked through the crack in the door and saw tears streaming down Melanie’s face. She slowly looked up at Nana. “And you? Were you a good mother?” she asked, her voice dripping with acid. “Were you? Mom, what I’ve done to her is nothing, *nothing* compared to what you did to me. How dare you lecture me?” She stared Nana straight in the eye. “You know, I could go tell Ivy the truth right now. I wonder if she’ll hate you as much as she hates me.” “Don’t you dare!” Nana shrieked, grabbing Melanie’s shoulders. “You will not tell her! Not ever! If you say one word, I will kill myself right here in front of you!” 4 In the end, Melanie didn’t tell me anything. She even did something she’d never done before: she drove me to my college dorm. I cheerfully introduced her to my new roommates. “This is my mom! She looks young, right? Hahaha, she’s only thirty-two!” “Whoa,” one of them said, their jaw dropping. “So, like… ma’am, you had her when you were fourteen?” “Damn, that’s wild,” said another. “I barely had my period at fourteen.” Then they turned to me. “Ivy, what about your dad? How old was he? Was he a teenager, too?” I shrugged. “No idea. Never met him. Could be some punk with a bad dye job, could be some old married guy.” With every word I said, Melanie’s face got paler. Finally, she snapped and slapped me. I clutched my cheek and collapsed onto the floor, wailing. “She hit me! Everyone, come see! My own mother is abusing me!” After that scene, Melanie became infamous on my campus. She never had the nerve to show her face there again. Which was her whole plan, anyway. She wasn’t visiting me; Nana was sending her to supervise me. She was convinced I’d end up just like her, getting into trouble with boys at a young age. “Keep your eyes open, Ivy,” she’d say over and over. “Don’t be fooled by a handsome face. You need to find someone who is your equal, or you will regret it for the rest of your life.” Hilarious. “No thanks,” I’d shot back. “I think I’ll go hook up with some burnout tomorrow. Make you a grandma at thirty-three.” She stormed out, throwing one last threat over her shoulder. “I’m done with you! I am never helping you again! Go to your precious nana for everything! Don’t you ever call me again!” And she didn’t. She never called, never visited. The only proof she still existed was the $2,500 that appeared in my bank account on the first of every month. Life without fighting her was boring. So I got a boyfriend. Actually, he pursued me. He said he saw me on the first day of school and felt an instant connection. He even said we looked like we were made for each other. He was just like the man Melanie was supposed to marry: handsome, athletic, from a wealthy family. He checked every box. I was so excited to bring him home. Unfortunately, Melanie was ready for another fight. 5 She stood in the doorway, blocking my boyfriend, Leo, from coming in. “Get out,” she said, hands on her hips. “You are not welcome in this house.” She was unbelievable. I pushed past her. “This is Nana’s house. Her name is on the deed, and she’s leaving it to me when she’s gone. What right do you have to tell my boyfriend he can’t come in?” She gritted her teeth. “I have every right. Because I’m your mother. You love telling everyone that, don’t you, Ivy? Well, today I’m using my authority as your mother to tell you: I do not approve of this man.” That was it. I snapped. “What right do you have to not approve? You’re just jealous that I found a great guy. You’re the one who got knocked up by some deadbeat because you were reckless. I’m 20 years old. You don’t control me!” I’d hit a nerve. She raised her hand to slap me again. But before her hand could connect, another hand shot out and slapped her first. It was Nana. “You worthless thing,” Nana hissed. “How many times have I told you? Don’t you ever hit her! Do you understand me? You do it again and you can get out of my house. You hear me?” My hero had arrived. I ran to Nana and buried my face in her shoulder. “Nana, she doesn’t have a man, so she’s trying to stop me from having a boyfriend! It’s not fair!” Nana stroked my back soothingly. “It’s okay, sweetie. Nana will handle it. Our Ivy is all grown up. It’s time she had a nice boyfriend.” A grin spread across my face. I shot a look at Melanie, who was standing there, fuming. But then, she did something strange. She started to laugh. She was sick. Who laughs after getting slapped? Nana glared at her. “What are you laughing at? You’ve lost your mind.” Melanie pointed at Leo, then looked at Nana. “I’m laughing,” she said, her voice chillingly calm, “because your karma has finally arrived.” “Mom. Take a good, long look at him. And then tell me if you still approve of them being together. Open your eyes and look. *Really* look.” Nana followed her finger and stared at Leo. In an instant, her pupils shrank. I saw her lips tremble, her face drain of all color. “What,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “are you doing here?”

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So, I hired someone to sit in my lecture for me. Minor problem: I accidentally hired a guy. When the professor called my name, “Chloe Reed?” a dude’s voice boomed from the back, “Here!” The professor squinted. “Chloe Reed… grew a beard?” The guy froze for a second, then his brain kicked into high gear. “Actually,” he said smoothly, “I’m her boyfriend. She’s sick, so she asked me to record the lecture for her. She’s super dedicated, didn’t want to fall behind.” The whole lecture hall buzzed. Then, from the front row, Dylan Sterling stood up. He gave the guy a polite, tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry, but *I’m* Chloe Reed’s boyfriend,” he said, his voice dripping with ice. “Who are you?” Here’s the thing about Dylan: he’s the golden boy of the Computer Science department. A campus legend. And me? I’m the ghost hovering on the edge of failing. We hadn’t seen each other in a month. His first words to me weren’t “I miss you.” They were: “Chloe, if you don’t get serious, you’re just going to end up as a burnout, stuck in the mud.” He checked his watch three times while saying it. Like every second spent with me was a waste of his precious, billable hours. I just nodded, my voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right. I’m a burnout. I don’t deserve you. Let’s break up.” To finally get away from him, I’d asked the class-sitter to pretend to be my new boyfriend. After Dylan stormed off and the breakup was official, my fake boyfriend’s eyes lit up. “Awesome! So… does this mean the boyfriend position is officially open?” * 1 My phone buzzed while I was in the art studio, where I’d been parked for a solid ten hours, lost in a painting. It was my roommate, Sarah. “Chloe, you have to check the campus gossip blog! You’re famous!” she shrieked. “And maybe you should, like, call Dylan and explain?” I flexed my stiff, paint-splattered fingers and pulled up the site. The top post was a video. There it was: the professor calling my name, the random guy answering, the professor’s confusion, and his “brilliant” ad-lib about being my devoted boyfriend. Followed, of course, by my *actual* boyfriend doing a live fact-check. The comments were a dumpster fire of hilarity. > *【Did the CS golden boy just get played? LMAO】* > *【Dude was 100% a hired gun from ClassPal. Epic fail.】* > *【A for effort, F for execution. Didn’t count on the real BF being in the same class. Ouch.】* I buried my face in my hands and pulled up the chat with the guy I’d hired. Me: You might have mentioned you were a GUY. The plan was simple. I’d hire a girl from the app, she’d wear a mask, sit in the back, and the professor, who knew our faces but not our souls, would be none the wiser. The profile on the app said female, so I didn’t think twice. He replied instantly. Him: Omg I am SO sorry! It was my first time doing this, I totally messed up the process. 😿 Him: I just panicked! I had no idea your boyfriend was in there! 😭😭 Him: I explained it to him after, I don’t think he’s mad anymore? No drama caused, I promise! 🙏 Him: Seriously, I feel terrible. Let me buy you dinner or something to make up for it? 😥 I clicked off the screen and sighed. This was bad. Now Dylan was going to be furious about me skipping class again. It’s what started the massive fight a month ago that led to us giving each other the silent treatment. 2 Dylan and I grew up across the street from each other. He was always the intense, self-disciplined kid, while I was… not. When other kids were playing tag, he was dragging me inside to do my homework. He’d stand over me, his face dead serious. “You got this wrong. Write it out ten times.” It was torture. In high school, he engineered it so we were lab partners and sat together in every class, constantly pushing me. “You have to work hard, Chloe. We’ll go to Blackwood University *together*.” He’d always say that, his ears turning a little red on the “together” part, this tiny crack in his usual cool, calm facade. For that one word, “together,” I studied like my life depended on it. And we did it. We both got into Blackwood’s top-ranked Computer Science program. My parents practically cried with joy. They said Dylan was a godsend, the only reason I hadn’t “veered off track and ruined my future.” The day I got my acceptance letter, everyone was celebrating. But on that sunny July afternoon, I felt like I’d been plunged into an icy lake. I was shaking uncontrollably. Because in the list of majors I had painstakingly submitted on my application, Computer Science was nowhere to be found. And my scores were way too high to have been auto-assigned. Someone had changed my application. 3 Day one of college, I knew I hated coding. The rigid logic, the endless rules—it felt like a cage. So I started skipping. A lot. I found the campus art studio and secretly started teaching myself how to paint. I couldn’t let Dylan know. But you can’t hide something like that forever. When he found out I was ditching Data Structures for charcoal sketches, he just frowned, his voice clipped. “That’s a waste of time.” He sounded exactly like my parents. The big blow-up last month happened because I’d officially filed the paperwork to transfer my major to Fine Arts. Dylan was livid. He said I was being impulsive, throwing my future away. In that moment, I just felt exhausted. I didn’t have the energy to try to make him understand anymore. 4 I stared at Dylan’s name in my contact list. Our last texts were from a month ago. I took a deep breath and started typing. Me: Hey Dyl, guess what today is! ✨ No response. Me: If you don’t guess right, the penalty is one kiss. 😘 An hour passed. Me: Okay, okay, I know you’re just pretending not to know so you can get that kiss. 😉 Me: It’s World Oceans Day! We should get dinner to celebrate! Me: Where are you? I can come find youuuu. I felt a familiar frustration bubbling up. I was practically waving a white flag, and he couldn’t even be bothered to text back. I sat in the dining hall, eating with one hand and refreshing my phone with the other, just in case the bad campus Wi-Fi was delaying his reply. I dragged out my meal for over an hour. Crickets. 5 I ended up texting one of Dylan’s roommates, who told me he was at the lab. When I got there, he was hunched over a monitor, debugging code, completely in his element. “Dylan!” I waved, trying to sound cheerful. His head snapped up. He glanced at me, then quickly looked away, trying to act casual. “What are you doing here?” I wrapped my arms around his from behind and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey, you. Let’s not be mad anymore, okay? I’m sorry.” The tips of his ears turned that faint shade of pink I knew so well. The icy wall he’d built up started to melt. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Sorry for what?” “…Let’s go get dinner,” I said, dodging the question. “You have dark circles under your eyes. You pulled another all-nighter, didn’t you? You probably haven’t even eaten.” Just as I was about to steer him out the door, his expression hardened again. “Excuse me, you two,” a voice cut in. “He can’t really leave for dinner yet.” I turned. It was Mia, Dylan’s go-to partner for every hackathon and competition. She gave me a smile that felt more like a baring of teeth. “There’s a major competition deadline coming up. Dylan and I really have to grind this out. Sorry, but he can’t go with you.” She gestured to some takeout containers on a desk. “I already ordered food. It’ll be here any minute. You’re welcome to stay, if you want.” There was an undercurrent of smugness in her tone that rubbed me the wrong way. But Dylan had told me how important this competition was. “Oh. Okay, then I won’t bother you guys.” I turned back to Dylan. “Well, text me when you’re not so busy. We can get dinner then.” All I got was a faint “Mm-hmm.” Mia smiled. “Okay, see you around!” The last thing I saw before the lab door clicked shut was Dylan and Mia leaning in close together, pointing at the same screen, completely in sync. A sour knot formed in my stomach. 6 It turns out “not so busy” was a time that never came. Another month went by after that day at the lab. Not a single text from him. I heard from his roommate that he was basically living in the lab. Ever since we got to college, he was always *busy*. Too busy to text back. Way too busy to text first. This past month, I’d thrown myself into my painting and hadn’t reached out to him either. The result? A month of absolute silence. It was hard to believe we were even in the same major, let alone the same city. We were living in two different universes. His was a world of GPAs, research, and competitions. Mine was a world of skipping class to mess with oil paints. He was collecting awards and becoming the CS department’s golden boy. I was collecting warnings from my academic advisor and trying not to flunk out. When had we drifted so far apart? 7 I finally broke down and called him. While the phone was ringing, a notification popped up in my dorm’s group chat. I tapped on it. It was a link to the university’s newsletter. The headline was about Dylan and Mia winning first place in that big competition. The photo showed the two of them on stage, holding a trophy, beaming. They looked good together. Powerful. My roommate had tagged me: *【@Chloe Your BF is a freaking genius!】* Before I could even type a reply, another notification appeared—a recommended article from a news app. *【Power Couple of STEM: Blackwood’s Finest Secure Early Admission to Prestigious Grad Program…】* I slammed the “dislike” button on the article, but a wave of sadness washed over me anyway. Suddenly, the call connected. Dylan’s tired voice came through the line. “What’s up?” My mind was still stuck on that headline. The words tumbled out, sounding more hurt than I intended. “Dylan, why haven’t you talked to me? I just saw that you and—” “Busy,” he cut me off. “…Okay. Well, can you make time for dinner with me?” “Where.” “Just the dining hall. It’ll be quick, I won’t take up too much of your time. Five o’clock?” “Fine.” “See you there?” “Yep.” He hung up. 8 I stood outside the dining hall for an hour and twenty-one minutes. Dylan finally showed up as the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the quad. “Sorry,” he said, not breaking his stride. “Something came up.” I opened my mouth to ask, *Couldn’t you have sent a text?* but I clamped it shut. I didn’t want to start a fight. We were finally together. I got in line for the build-your-own noodle bowl station while he went to the grab-and-go section for a pre-packaged salad. It was his usual. No line, fast to eat. For a genius like him, even eating was a waste of time. By the time I sat down with my steaming bowl, he was already halfway done. He glanced at my food and frowned slightly but said nothing. My noodles were piping hot, so I carefully picked out the cilantro I hated. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dylan lift his wrist and check his watch. *One.* I started a silent count. It was a habit of his, something he started in high school—timing how long a meal took. When he finished his salad, he glanced at his watch again. *Two.* I pretended not to notice the impatient tapping of his foot. I tried to fill the silence, to connect with him. “Hey, so the school is having a student art show,” I said, trying to sound excited. “And even though I’m not an art major or anything, one of my paintings got accepted! I was so—” He lifted his wrist. A third, pointed look at his watch. It was like every single second he had to spend with me, listening to my stupid little life, was an agony he had to endure. 9 “Chloe, if you don’t get serious, you’re just going to end up as a burnout, stuck in the mud.” After a month of silence, that was the first real sentence he’d said to me. I slowly swallowed the noodles in my mouth. I looked up, meeting his cold, impatient gaze. “You’re right,” I said, my voice perfectly level. “I’m a burnout. And I don’t deserve you.” “Let’s break up.”

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At two in the morning, my brother called me in a panic, asking me to cover for him with his wife. “I’m on a business trip, there was a huge pile-up on the highway,” he said, his voice rushed. “The whole road’s blocked. I told Jessica I’m crashing at your place so she doesn’t worry. Just don’t blow my cover.” The location he sent me was, in fact, in my city, right near the downtown bus station. I was about to agree when a series of comments popped up in my vision, scrolling like a live feed. > 【LOL, he’s with a hooker. Using his sis for an alibi. What a scumbag.】 > > 【Yeah, and his wife is 6 months pregnant with their second kid.】 > > 【This is the night he gets HIV. Infects the baby and everything.】 > > 【His wife, Jessica, ends up hating Lily’s guts for this. She was already on her way to check on him but Lily convinces her to go back.】 > > 【No wonder she gets stabbed to death.】 1 I blinked, my blood running cold. *Stabbed to death? Me?* On the other end of the line, my brother, Mike, was getting impatient. “Lily, did you hear me?” he snapped. “If Jessica calls, you just play along.” Maybe it was the pop-ups, but I could have sworn I heard a woman’s muffled voice in the background, asking him if he was done. Mike’s voice became urgent. “Look, just handle it. Jessica’s six months along. If she gets stressed out and something happens, you’ll be the villain of the family! You think Mom will ever forgive you?” He was about to hang up. On instinct, I nudged the cat sleeping next to my pillow. Mochi let out a loud “Mrrow!” Mike paused. “Lily?” he asked, a flicker of uncertainty in his voice. “Lily! Say something!” I poked Mochi again. He meowed, louder this time. My brother exploded. “Damn it! That stupid cat! Useless piece of crap that just gets in the way!” 2 The line went dead. I sat there, hugging Mochi, my head spinning but my heart pounding like a drum. I’d been half asleep when I answered, so I hadn’t said a single word. I’d brought Mochi home for Christmas once; Mike knew he had a habit of messing with my phone. He must have thought the cat answered the call, which is why he felt free to curse like that. I looked around the dark room. The pop-up comments were gone, as if they’d never been there. It felt like a bizarre dream. Real or not, I had one rule: I don’t get involved in my brother’s drama. Ever. I fell back onto the bed, clutching Mochi, and forced myself to breathe. I had less than five hours before my alarm went off. I needed to sleep. *THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!* *BANG-BANG-BANG!* The sound of someone hammering on my front door jolted me awake. I grabbed my phone, my thumb already hovering over the 911 button. “Lily! I know you’re in there! Open this door! Open up!” It was my sister-in-law, Jessica. What the hell was she doing here? I crept to the door and peered through the peephole. Jessica, her belly swollen under her coat, was slamming her fist against the door over and over. The clock on my phone read 3:00 AM. 3 We were separated by a thin sheet of wood, but seeing her face, twisted with rage, terrified me. My phone buzzed with notifications from my building’s group chat—neighbors were already complaining about the noise. Suddenly, Jessica clutched her chest, gasping for air. Pregnant women can get short of breath easily. Worried she was having a medical emergency, I quickly unlocked and opened the door. The second it was open, she stood up straight, her breathing perfectly normal. She shot me a nasty look. “So, you *were* home,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just gonna let a pregnant woman stand out here and knock until she collapses, huh?” She faked it. Just to get me to open the door. Her face was a hard mask as she shoved past me, slammed the door shut, and locked it from the inside. Then she started storming through my apartment. The kitchen. The bathroom. The bedroom. She threw open each door, letting them bang against the walls. “Jessica, what are you doing? My neighbors are going to file a complaint.” She completely ignored me. Holding her belly with one hand, she ripped open my closet, threw open cabinets, and tore back the shower curtain. Then it hit me. She was looking for someone. I blurted out, “Mike’s not here! Stop looking!” She froze. Her head snapped around, and her eyes locked onto mine. “How did you know I was looking for your brother?” 4 I stumbled for a second, then recovered. “Jessica, we’re not exactly besties. You show up at my door at 3 AM—you think you’re here to check on my social life?” She let out a short, bitter laugh. Maybe she was done searching, or maybe she was just tired. She sank onto my couch. “Your brother told me he was staying here tonight. So why isn’t he here?” That liar. He couldn’t even get ahold of me and he was still using me as an alibi? I was done with their marital problems. I decided to just tell her the truth. “Look, Mike called me around two. He said he was stuck in a pile-up after a car crash and told me to lie for him if you called, because he didn’t want you to worry. I was half asleep and never actually agreed to anything. You can check my call log.” I pulled out my phone, but I realized it proved nothing. The call was only thirty seconds long. I hadn’t thought to record it. And the location screenshot he’d sent me? He’d already unsent it. All I could prove was that we’d been in contact. Jessica looked at me with a smirk that was anything but amused. She pulled out her own phone. “Funny,” she said. “Because your brother sent me a live location share twenty minutes ago. It pinned him right here. In your apartment complex.” 5 What? There was no way Mike had a change of heart and decided to come to my place, only to then decide not to wake me up. But the idea that he drove all the way to my complex just to send a fake location pin seemed insane, too. The bus station he’d screenshotted for me was a good thirty-minute drive away, meaning an hour round trip. Mike couldn’t predict the future. In his mind, his six-months-pregnant wife should have been a hundred miles away, asleep in their bed. And the pop-ups said this “check-up” was a spur-of-the-moment decision. While my brain was trying to process this, there was a loud *CRACK* on the coffee table. I jumped. Jessica had slammed her phone down. Her face was a terrifying mask of fury. “You know what, Lily? I’m starting to think you and your brother are the same kind of trash!” she spat. “This isn’t the first time he’s been out all night. Every single week, he tells me he’s coming here to ‘drop something off for you’ and stays over. I never suspected a thing! I just thought you two were close.” Her eyes filled with tears, her voice cracking. “But last week, he came home with a scratch down his back. A nail mark. That’s when I knew something was wrong. So when he said he was coming to see you again tonight, I decided to check. And what do I find? You’re both in on it, lying to my face.” She was sobbing now, a raw, desperate sound. “He sent me a location from here, but he’s not in your apartment! That means *you* logged into his account and sent it for him!” Holy crap. I never would have made that leap in logic. So she didn’t come here to confirm he *was* here. She came to prove he *wasn’t*. 6 Jessica was staring at me like I was the enemy. As if *I* was the one who had cheated on her, not my brother. And the idea of Mike bringing me things every week was laughable. The only thing I’d gotten from him in the last six months was two bags of protein powder he was trying to get rid of. The gas to drive it over cost more than the powder itself. How could she possibly believe that? > 【This poor girl has no idea, does she? Her brother rented an apartment in her name. In this very complex.】 > > 【Every time he wants to see a hooker, he brings her there. He sends the location to his wife and says he’s dropping stuff off for Lily. The perfect cover.】 > > 【The mom set it all up. She stole Lily’s ID and co-signed the lease. That way, Jessica can’t trace the payments back to Mike.】 > > 【Yeah, she swiped the ID when they were all home for Christmas.】 I froze. Even with the pop-ups, I couldn’t remember when my mom might have taken my ID. You never think about it until you need it. At home, I just toss it in a drawer. And with modern security, it’s hard for someone to use your ID to take your money. But to *give* money away? That’s a different story. All my mom would need is my ID and a copy of my birth certificate to prove our relationship. She could easily walk into a leasing office and say she was helping her daughter rent a place. Who would ever suspect a mother of using her daughter’s identity to create a secret love nest for her son? 7 A chilling cold spread through my chest. The pop-up comments were still scrolling, full of pity. > 【That mom is something else. Golden child son wants to cheat, so she helps him and throws her own daughter under the bus.】 > > 【Lily is the real victim here. She’s been set up from the start. After she convinces Jessica to go home, Jessica eventually finds out about the apartment in Lily’s name. She hates Lily even more than Mike and just snaps. Stabs her.】 > > 【The worst part is, Lily dies without ever knowing why.】 > > 【From her perspective, she just told a small white lie to keep her pregnant sister-in-law from worrying.】 > > 【But Lily didn’t agree to lie this time, did she?】 > > 【Doesn’t matter. Jessica’s already here. Mike has used Lily as an excuse so many times that Jessica sees them as a team. She won’t believe a word Lily says now.】 > > 【This was Mike’s plan all along. Keep his sister and wife from talking, create misunderstandings, and shift all the blame.】 > > 【Look at it now. To Jessica, Lily is the accomplice. To Lily, Jessica is a psycho who showed up in the middle of the night.】 The comments hit me like a splash of cold water. They were right. From the moment she walked in, I’d seen Jessica as an unhinged lunatic. We had no personal issues, yet we were screaming at each other, and I was seconds away from slapping her. > 【Meanwhile, Mike is off having a good time, completely invisible. And when he gets sick, his sister will be the one to pay for it with her life. The nerve of this family is off the charts.】 I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Why would my brother go to such lengths to drag me into his mess? Why would he risk getting a disease that could kill him and his own child? HIV is a death sentence. What was he possibly gaining from this? Someone in the pop-up feed asked the same question. > 【Let’s look at the timeline.】 > > 【The mom and Mike set this plan in motion over six months ago. Him getting HIV is an accident that happens tonight. The affair itself was the plan.】 > > 【So, in the original plan, why does all the hatred get directed at the sister? Why does the sister-in-law, who barely knows her, come straight to her apartment?】 Goosebumps broke out on my arms. The answer was sickeningly clear. > 【Because from the very beginning, her family wanted her dead.】 8 My mother and brother wanting me dead… it had to be about the condo. I’d just bought this place. Over Christmas, my mom kept dropping hints about how hard life was for Mike and Jessica, how my niece was about to start elementary school, and how my new condo just happened to be in a fantastic school district. She kept talking about them needing to have another baby, how they’d never be able to afford a bigger house. At the time, I didn’t know they were already expecting again. I just told her they should focus on their finances before having more kids, that in today’s economy, children were a luxury. Was that enough to make them hate me so much they wanted me gone? And what about Jessica? Even if she killed me, she’d go to prison. Would Mike really gamble with the future of his own child’s mother? Jessica slammed her hand on the table again. “Where is your brother?” she screamed. “Is he leaving us? Is he with someone else?” A single thought cut through my panic. I seized on it. “The baby,” I asked, my voice steady. “It’s another girl, isn’t it?”

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My dad was a cheat and a monster. My cousin led the charge to make my life a living hell at school, forcing me to drop out. The day my mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, we held hands and walked to the roof of the tallest building in our dead-end town. The wind was howling. Mom’s voice trembled. “Maya, honey, I can’t be a burden to you…” Tears streamed down my face as I nodded and took a half-step toward the edge. But then, words scrolled across my vision, bright and impossible against the gray sky: [Don’t jump, Maya! Your mom is Clara Vance, the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Vance family!] [If you jump, it’s all over. Your mom will die, and you’ll end up in a coma. You’ll spend the rest of your life in a vegetable state in one of your uncle’s mansions…] I had to be hallucinating. A side effect of total despair. My mom and I spread our arms, ready. [Your dad took out a million-dollar life insurance policy on you both. Your deaths will make him a rich man!] I lunged, grabbing my mom’s arm and yanking her back from the ledge. “Mom!” I stared into her confused, hopeless eyes. “This roof… let’s find a different one. Another day.” 1 I couldn’t let my worthless father get a cent. I dragged my mom to the public library, the last two dollars in my pocket clutched in my fist. “Maya, what are we doing here?” she whispered, her hand gently stroking my hair. “You want to look up my… my sickness, don’t you? Honey, there’s no cure…” A lump formed in my throat, but I had no time to explain. I got on a computer, opened a browser, and typed. The first result that popped up was a news article: “Chicago billionaire family still offering $1 million reward for information on daughter, missing for forty years.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I scribbled down the phone number and logged off. I ran to the pay phone in the lobby, begging a stranger for a quarter. “Hello, my name is Maya, I’m at the downtown public library. I have information about the Vance family’s missing daughter!” I practically shouted into the receiver the moment a man answered. It was late. His voice was tired, skeptical. “Information? Kid, I’ve gotten thousands of calls from people claiming they have information.” “You’d better be sure about this…” “This time it’s real,” I insisted, my voice cracking. “If you hang up, you’ll never find her.” *And I’ll never be able to afford another phone call.* There was a pause on the other end, then a shift in his tone. “Okay. Stay right where you are. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” For that half hour, we huddled on the library steps. The wind was cold. Mom, exhausted, fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. It was the tenth day since we’d escaped from the suffocating backwoods of Appalachia. We’d been washing dishes in greasy spoons just to eat. Mom finally collapsed from exhaustion and was rushed to the local clinic. The doctor looked at her chart, pushed his glasses up his nose, and said bluntly, “Your mother has cancer. Late stage.” My world fell apart. After paying the clinic, all I had left was two dollars. I was seventeen. How could I ever afford the treatment she needed? So I lied. I told her she was a burden. She said she wouldn’t drag me down. She said she’d jump. She didn’t know I planned to go with her. My mom grew up in those mountains, raised by my grandma to be my dad’s wife. She was never allowed to go to school. After she had me, she could never have another child. My dad, Dale, was the big man in our tiny town, but he was a joke to men from outside, the guy with “no son.” He took every ounce of that humiliation and beat it into my mother. When I tried to step in, my grandma would yank me away. “If it wasn’t for you, your mother wouldn’t be getting this beating.” When I cried, she’d scream, “Stop your blubbering and go wash your cousin Billy’s underwear!” If I didn’t, I’d get hit, too. I was always the best student in my class. My teacher said knowledge was the only way out of the mountains. But after a decade of straight A’s, I learned that good grades couldn’t save you from a punch. My uncle started the rumor: “A girl getting too smart takes the sense right out of the boys.” From then on, my cousin Billy made my life hell. He’d corner me after school. “It’s your fault I’m so dumb! You stole my brains!” The bullying got so bad I stopped going to school altogether. My dad used my tuition money to buy that million-dollar life insurance policy. I begged my mom to run away. “Mom, please,” I’d whisper at night. “Living here is worse than being dead.” She’d just shake her head, saying she was born in the mountains and would die there, that she didn’t know how to survive anywhere else. Until the day my dad brought another woman home. She was pregnant. She looked at us like we were dirt. “You expect me to marry you when you’re this broke? You’ve still got these two taking up space.” My mom swallowed her pride and served the woman, cleaned up after her. Then my dad said the words that finally broke her. “If you could’ve given me a son, I wouldn’t need a new wife. I need money. I’m marrying Maya off to old man Hemlock for a piece of his land.” My mom begged, but my dad wouldn’t budge. For the first time, she fought back, grabbing a kitchen knife. He beat her until she was bloody and unconscious. The night before he planned to take us on a “hike,” she shook me awake. “Maya… let’s run.” 2 Half an hour later, a sleek black SUV pulled up to the curb, silent and imposing. The pop-ups were back: [It’s a Rolls-Royce Cullinan! Your uncle has arrived in style, Maya!] I didn’t know the name, but the car was so polished and black it seemed to swallow the light. It made our torn, dirty clothes look even more pathetic. The door opened and a tall man in a tailored suit stepped out. His brow furrowed as his eyes swept over us, taking in our miserable state. I looked closely at his face—he had my mother’s eyes. He seemed to glow, surrounded by an invisible aura of power. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel. [It’s your youngest uncle, Julian! He’s finally seeing you alive and well, not the girl in a coma he’ll visit for the rest of his life…] So this was my uncle. “You’re the ones who called?” he asked, his voice crisp. I shook my mom awake, pushing her forward. “It’s her! This is the Vance family’s long-lost daughter you’ve been searching for!” His gaze was sharp, analytical, as he studied my mother’s weathered, frightened face. “You have no proof. What makes you so certain?” Mom was terrified. “Maya, what’s going on?” she whispered, looking from me to him. I suppressed a wave of nausea and said the only thing I could think of that would cut through his skepticism. “Proof? A DNA test will give you all the proof you need. Science doesn’t lie.” He gestured for us to get in the car. The inside was unbelievably luxurious. My mom shrank behind me, barely breathing. The man—my uncle—never stopped studying us. I could tell he didn’t want to believe that these two ragged figures were his family. At the hospital, the blood draw was quick. We waited in a conference room. What if it wasn’t her? I couldn’t even bear the thought. A doctor practically ran into the room, handing a file to my uncle. My mom instinctively took my hand, her warm palms enveloping my icy fingers. “Maya, your hands are like stones. Let me warm them up…” My uncle’s eyes flew across the page, finally landing on the bottom line: “The probability of a full sibling relationship is greater than 99.99%.” The world seemed to stop. The doctor, sensing our confusion, explained, “That means we can say with one hundred percent certainty that they are brother and sister.” A roar filled my ears. My voice shook. “Mom, did you hear that? You have a brother! You have a family! You’re going to be okay!” Mom was stiff in my arms, her face a blank mask of disbelief. Hot tears fell onto my hand. “A brother?” she whispered. My uncle covered his face, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He hadn’t been cold; he’d been terrified. Terrified of having his hopes dashed again after forty years of searching. He dropped his hands, his face wet with tears. “Clara,” he choked out, stepping forward. “It’s me. It’s your brother, Julian. I finally found you.” He hugged his long-lost sister, laughing and crying at the same time. My mother could be loved like this. She was *supposed* to be loved like this. I had gambled everything, and I had won. We had money now. She could be saved. We didn’t have to die. Julian pulled out his phone. “I found her! It’s really her! Mom, Dad, get to the hospital. Now!” Within the hour, the room was filled with well-dressed men and elegant women, all surrounding us. 3 My whole life, my dad and grandma just called my mom “Girl.” As if she were a slave, not a person. Now, a room full of people looked at her with pure adoration. “I have a name,” Mom murmured, as if waking from a dream. “I’m not ‘Girl’ anymore?” She looked at me, her eyes shining. “Clara Vance. Isn’t that a beautiful name, Maya?” Suddenly, she grabbed my arm and pushed me in front of everyone, her voice trembling with urgency. “This is my daughter! She’s smart, a real bookworm! Can you please send her to school? She’ll be good, I promise! She won’t cause any trouble!” As soon as the words were out, she shrank back into a corner, as if she’d asked for the impossible. She was always like that, putting everyone else first. An elderly woman with silver hair and a string of pearls was helped to the front. She threw her arms around my mother, her sobs tearing through the room. “Clara! My Clara! I’ve been looking for you for so long.” This was my grandmother. It turned out my mom had three older brothers. My eldest uncle was a powerful senator. The second was the chief of surgery at a renowned hospital. And Julian, the youngest, was the CEO of the massive Vance Corporation. I took a step forward. “My mom is sick,” I said quietly. “It’s terminal. We need a lot of money for treatment.” The joyful chatter stopped. Were they already regretting finding us? “I can quit school,” I added quickly. “All the money can go to her. I’ll take care of her. I won’t be any trouble!” Mom gasped. “No, Maya! If you quit school for me, I won’t get any treatment.” My grandmother’s face, a mixture of joy and sorrow, hardened with determination. She squeezed my mother’s hand. “Don’t be silly, child! The one thing the Vance family doesn’t lack is money! We’ll get you the best doctors, the best medicine. Everything.” She took my hand. “And Maya is absolutely going to school! Now that you’re home, everything you’ve ever lost, everything you’ve ever suffered—we will make it right.” Just then, a woman in sharp high heels strode into the room, a girl my age trailing behind her. “Mother, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, her eyes flicking dismissively over my mom. “I heard you found my aunt?” Julian quickly made the introduction. “Pearl, this is Clara.” Pearl’s face soured. The girl next to her made no effort to hide her contempt, looking me up and down like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe. “Don’t my uncles love me anymore?” the girl wailed, bursting into loud, theatrical tears. “Now that *she’s* here, are you just going to forget about me?” Her mother, Pearl, immediately joined in, tears rolling down her perfectly made-up face. “Mother, brothers, it’s our fault. Mia and I have been in the way for too long. It’s time for us to leave and not be an eyesore.” Mia? Her name was Mia. My mom, oblivious to the drama, smiled and reached for Pearl’s hand. “Don’t say that! It must be fate. My daughter’s name is Maya!” Pearl snatched her hand back as if she’d been burned. “What?” she shrieked. “Are you suggesting my daughter should change her name for this… this trash?” “Pearl, that is enough!” my eldest uncle, the senator, boomed, his voice echoing in the silent room.

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Liam Sterling was in love with my roommate. He brought her to the tense family dinner, ready to confront our parents and publicly detonate the pact they’d made for us when we were kids. He pointed at me, his voice ringing with disdain as he addressed both sets of parents. “I have never, not for one second, loved her. The thought of marrying Chloe makes me sick.” That was the last day I ever loved Liam Sterling. Later, when another guy finally asked me out, Liam did everything in his power to stop it. He stood there, holding the crayon-scribbled “marriage contract” he’d written for me when we were seven. “You promised,” he said, his voice cracking. “You pinky-promised you would only ever marry me.” * 1 I arrived just as the shouting started. Stomping the snow from my boots on the welcome mat, I reached for the door. “I already told you,” a cold voice snapped from inside, “I never agreed to that ridiculous arrangement.” Liam. The sound of his voice stopped my hand in mid-air. “It was an agreement between our families, made when you were children! Are you trying to humiliate Chloe’s parents by bringing this girl here?” Through the crack in the door, I saw Liam squaring off with his father. My own parents sat silently on the couch, their faces tight with tension. “This is my girlfriend,” Liam announced, grabbing my roommate Tessa’s hand and pulling her forward. Liam’s dad turned beet red. “You are marrying Chloe, and that is final! You don’t have a choice!” My hand trembled, and I accidentally pushed the door open. Every head in the room swiveled towards me. Liam’s eyes, cold as ice, locked onto mine. He pointed at me, but his words were for his parents. They were loud and clear, a declaration of war. “I have never, not for one second, loved her. The thought of marrying Chloe makes me sick.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Tessa’s hand and stormed out. His gaze swept over me as if I were a piece of furniture. Behind me, Liam’s parents were stumbling over apologies while my own dad looked like he was about to chase Liam down and punch him. But I just stared at their retreating backs. Liam and I had grown up in each other’s pockets. For all those years, he’d never denied our “arrangement.” When people teased us about it, he’d just smile. I thought he loved me back. 2 That night, after two hours of my parents’ gentle consoling, they finally let me go to bed. Mom called the school and told them I was sick. I couldn’t face going back to my dorm room. Just as I was drifting off, my phone lit up on the nightstand. A text from Liam. Liam: I’m outside your house. Come down. We need to talk. His words from earlier echoed in my head. My childhood best friend, the boy I’d built my world around, had just publicly gutted me for another girl. I didn’t go down that night. But I didn’t sleep, either. I drifted in and out of a dream. A little boy with Liam’s face sat at a desk, carefully writing something with a crayon. He finished, hopped off the chair, and ran over to a little girl with my face who was crying. “Don’t cry, CeeCee,” he said, using my childhood nickname. “You have to marry me when we grow up.” He pressed a waxy piece of paper into my hand, his own version of a marriage contract, his eyes bright and serious. “I’ll always protect you, CeeCee. Pinky promise.” The moon slipped out from behind a cloud, and the sudden light woke me. I wiped the dampness from the corner of my eye. 3 The next morning, Liam cornered me on my way to school. “You’re leaving this late? You skipped breakfast again, didn’t you?” The casual, familiar tone of his voice made me flinch. He held out a paper bag from our favorite bakery. “Chloe,” he said, his voice softer now. “What I said yesterday… I didn’t mean it to be about you. I was just angry at my parents.” I took a step back, away from the bag. “No thanks. The thought of eating anything from you makes me sick.” His hand dropped. He just stared at me, his jaw tight. “Okay. You got your shot in. Are we good now?” He took a breath. “Look, I just want to ask you not to give Tessa a hard time. She didn’t do anything wrong. I went after her.” As it turned out, I didn’t have to give her a hard time. She brought it to me. I had just gotten to class and sat down when Tessa walked over, holding a carton of milk. Her voice was just loud enough to cut through the quiet morning chatter. “CeeCee,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Can you forgive me? I brought you this as a peace offering.” Every eye in the room was on us. I looked from the milk to her face. “Forgive you for what?” She placed the carton on my desk, her eyes welling up. “I never should have accepted Liam’s friend request. I didn’t know he was… yours.” She reached out and tugged on my sleeve, her voice catching. “Please don’t be mad at me, CeeCee. If you want him back, I’ll… I’ll give him back.” Before I could respond, Tessa’s best friend, Maya, cut in. “Seriously, Tessa? Why are you apologizing?” she said loudly. “Chloe and Liam are just friends. You didn’t steal her boyfriend. And Chloe,” she said, turning to me, “maybe you could drop the ice princess act for five seconds?” It was a perfectly executed performance. “You two are good,” I said flatly. “Good cop, bad cop, right?” I pulled my arm away from Tessa’s grasp. I didn’t use much force, but she let out a theatrical gasp and stumbled backward, crashing right into my desk. “Ah!” The carton of milk went flying, splashing all over her shirt. And that’s when Liam walked in. “Tessa, are you okay?” he rushed to her side, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders, his eyes filled with concern. “I’m fine, Liam,” she sniffled. The other students were all looking at me like I was a monster. “What are you all looking at me for?” I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “She tripped.” Liam heard me. I know he did. But all his attention was on Tessa. “I’m taking you to the nurse’s office. Just hang on.” He scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the classroom without a single glance in my direction. It was like I was invisible. That afternoon, Maya got her revenge. As I was coming back from the water fountain, she deliberately slammed into me, spilling her entire cup of bright red slushie down my front and knocking me to the floor. “Oops,” she said with a shrug. “My bad.” Then she walked away. I looked up and saw Liam standing down the hall. Our eyes met. He just stood there, watching me, his expression as cold and distant as if he were looking at a stranger. … Just before the final bell rang, I walked back into the classroom, soaked and shivering. In my hand, I held a thermos. Without a word, I walked over to Maya’s desk, unscrewed the cap, and poured the steaming, pale-yellow liquid over her head. “I did it on purpose,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “And I’m not sorry.” She shrieked, jumping up. “What is this! What did you pour on me?!” I just smiled. It wasn’t until the whole thing blew up and we were in the principal’s office that I clarified. “It was just hot water,” I said. “And two tea bags.” 4 After that, I became a pariah. Everyone avoided me like I had the plague. I started to wonder if I really was the bad guy. Meanwhile, Liam and Tessa became the school’s golden couple, the power-couple scholars. The day they made it official was the day I finally told the truth. “Hey, we’re all going out for a class party on Friday. You, uh, you wanna come?” The class president asked me hesitantly, after he’d already invited everyone else. I tried to look casual, but my hands were clenched into fists under my desk. “Sure,” I said. Maybe I wasn’t as hated as I thought. At the party, someone spun the bottle for Truth or Dare. It landed on Liam. A guy named Josh grinned. “Okay, Sterling. Your childhood sweetheart Chloe and your new girlfriend Tessa are both drowning. You can only save one. Who do you pick?” I never imagined the stupid question would feel like a prophecy. Liam and Tessa were sitting directly across from me. The air grew thick. I stared at the condensation on my glass of soda, not blinking. I could have left. I should have. But I was frozen. Liam let out a short, easy laugh. “What do you mean, *new girlfriend*? Tessa’s been my girlfriend for a while now. I thought you all knew.” In my peripheral vision, I saw him sling his arm around Tessa’s shoulders. “Tessa, honey, can you swim?” “Not a stroke,” she said, blushing. Liam sighed, his voice dripping with affection. “Well, I guess if you fell in the ocean, I’d have to hold onto you the whole way, wouldn’t I?” He never answered the question directly, but the answer was obvious. And fair. She was his girlfriend. It was only right that he’d save her first. I closed my eyes for a second, fighting back the sting. Everyone started teasing Liam about how sappy he was. I made myself as small as possible, breathing shallowly, hoping no one would look at me with pity or scorn. But Tessa wasn’t going to let me off that easily. When the bottle spun to me, she smiled, a picture of innocence. “CeeCee,” she asked sweetly. “Is there anyone here… that you have a crush on? *Or ever had a crush on?*” It was the most viciously kind question I’d ever heard. “And if you lie,” she added with a playful wink, “your whole family will have bad luck forever!” I was trapped. If I stormed out, I’d be the drama queen forever. If I stayed, I’d be the pathetic girl who couldn’t let go. I slowly lifted my head and met Tessa’s triumphant gaze. “Yes,” I said. As soon as the word was out, I felt Liam’s eyes snap to me. Tessa just smiled and tightened her grip on his arm. “I knew it.” A month ago, this would have been the most humiliating moment of my life. But saying it out loud… something shifted. The feeling was distant, like a memory. It was like a soft breeze had finally blown away the last lingering wisp of whatever I felt for him. And when the wind passed, the water was still. In my seventeenth year, the crush I’d been nursing for three years finally died. I was sure of it. I didn’t love Liam Sterling anymore. 5 “Chloe.” Liam caught me as I was leaving the party. He walked over, his expression unreadable. “Today, when you said you liked someone…” He hesitated. “Was it me?” Honestly, I couldn’t muster an ounce of feeling for the boy standing in front of me. “Yes,” I said simply. Then I added, “It *was* you. Past tense. The moment you stood in front of our families and said marrying me would make you sick, I decided to stop loving you. And besides, you have a girlfriend now. I’m over it.” Liam’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, the words sounding hollow. “I’ve always just thought of you as a sister.” I didn’t want to hear his excuses. “Chloe, I’ll make it up to you,” he insisted. I refused, immediately and repeatedly. I showed him with every action that I wanted nothing to do with him or his girlfriend. But Liam, consumed by guilt, didn’t listen. He insisted on bringing me breakfast, even though I threw it back at him every single time. His misguided attempts at kindness didn’t go unnoticed by Tessa. She saw his attention, not my rejection, and decided I was trying to steal him back. And so, her games escalated. The day before our mock exam scores were posted, Tessa was called into the guidance counselor’s office. She came back to her desk and sobbed for the rest of the period. A rumor started to spread: she’d been caught cheating. No one, least of all Liam, believed it. She was second in our class, right behind him. “No way,” people whispered. “That cheat sheet they found couldn’t have been hers.” “Yeah, Tessa would never do that.” I didn’t pay much attention, other than knowing I’d done well on the exam. The next day, after the scores were posted, Liam blocked my path as I was leaving school. “Chloe,” he said, his voice hard. “Did you do it?” I was confused. “Do what?” “Framing Tessa for cheating. Did you plant that note?” he demanded, stepping closer. I scoffed. “You think I have time for that? You really think I care enough about her to go to that much trouble?” He narrowed his eyes. “Then why did your score go up by twenty-seven points?” “Maybe I just studied!” I snapped, my patience gone. “Liam, you’re being paranoid.” His face was a dark mask. He let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Chloe, what happened to you? When did you become like this?” He shook his head, his eyes full of disappointment. “Framing people, lying about it… Is this how your parents raised you?” I was so angry I couldn’t speak. Before I could find the words, he held up his phone and played a security video. It showed the hallway outside the counselor’s office. Between the time the exams were collected and the end of the school day, I was the only person who had entered the office. This was Tessa’s plan all along. She’d planted the note herself, on a test she knew she could ace. The video was the final nail in my coffin. Liam looked down at me, his voice devoid of all emotion. “Everyone has to face the consequences of their actions, Chloe.” He turned and walked away. 6 My last hope was my guidance counselor. This whole case was subjective, with no real proof. But when I walked into her office, she just looked at me with weary disapproval. “Chloe, why would you do something like this? Are you that jealous of Tessa’s grades?” My throat went dry. I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I couldn’t say a word. Liam was there, comforting a teary-eyed Tessa. “Chloe! I thought we were friends!” Tessa cried, her voice thick with fake betrayal. “I trusted you! How could you do this to me?” She grabbed a heavy textbook from the counselor’s desk and hurled it at my face. The sharp corner caught me right on the bridge of my nose. “You almost ruined my life!” she screamed. Liam just looked away. The counselor offered a weak reprimand. “Tessa, we don’t resort to violence.” Then she looked at me, her eyes warning me not to retaliate. “Chloe, if you just apologize, we can drop the whole thing. No mark on your permanent record.” If my score was nullified, I’d be kicked out of the honors track for senior year. But I hadn’t done it. How could I admit to something I hadn’t done? “I’m only going to say this once,” I said, my voice shaking. “I did not frame Tessa.” As the words left my mouth, I felt something warm and wet trickle from my nose. The book had given me a nosebleed. I didn’t wait to see their reactions. I turned and walked out. “Stop.” Liam followed me out, blocking my path. He saw the blood and frowned. But his words were still laced with blame. “Chloe, you have to apologize to Tessa. She doesn’t deserve this.” I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and held it up for him to see, the blood stark against my skin. My voice was barely a whisper. “Liam, can I please just go clean up?” I was so tired. I felt like a person hanging off a cliff, my fingers slipping, with no strength left to hold on. I didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore. Liam’s brow furrowed. “I’ll take you.” He reached for my arm. I flinched away, my eyes on the floor. “Liam,” I said, my voice completely dead. “Please. Just… stay away from me.” 7 In the end, I never apologized. But it didn’t matter. Everyone had already decided I was guilty. Students who used to ignore me now muttered insults as I walked by. And my exam score, the one I had been so proud of, was officially invalidated. The last straw was the mandatory spring field trip. Another perfect opportunity for Tessa to set a trap. “Tessa and Chloe,” the teacher announced, reading from a list. “You two are on firewood duty.” The moment we were deep in the woods, Tessa showed her true colors. I quietly switched on the voice recorder in my pocket. “It must hurt, CeeCee,” she said, her tone light and conversational. “Having your childhood sweetheart stolen away.” I baited the hook. “So, that cheat sheet… you planted it so Liam would hate me for good? To make sure I wouldn’t try to get him back?” She glanced around, then smiled. “Of course. And everyone believed it. How did it feel? When that book hit your face? Did it hurt?” I had what I needed. With this recording, I could destroy her. But she wasn’t done. As I turned to walk away, she shoved me, hard. “Ah—” I tumbled down a steep, wooded slope. But in her moment of triumph, Tessa lost her footing and came tumbling down right after me. We both ended up snagged on the thick branches of a fallen tree overhanging a ravine, dangling precariously. 8 I tried to pull myself up, but the branches were too flimsy. “Liam! Help!” Tessa screamed. A moment later, he crashed through the undergrowth, his face pale with panic. “Liam, I’m so scared,” Tessa whimpered, reaching a hand out to him. He looked from her to me, his eyes filled with a pained apology. “I’m sorry, Chloe,” he said. He stretched his hand out—to Tessa. … “I’ll pull Tessa up, then I’ll get you,” he promised. Tessa’s expression flickered for a second. She took his hand and started to scramble up. I gritted my teeth. “Okay. Thank you.” I couldn’t blame him. She was his girlfriend. The fact that he was even willing to come back for me was more than I expected. But as Tessa was pulling herself onto solid ground, she suddenly shifted her weight. Her hiking boot came down, hard, on my hand, grinding it into the rough bark. With her other foot, she pushed off the branch, making it look like an accident. A shot of pure agony went through my hand. My fingers went numb, and my grip gave way. I was falling. “Chloe!” “CeeCee!”

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