Chapter 3
I turned the corner and called my parents.
“Mom,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “can you ask my tutor to come tonight?”
There was a pause.
“Honey, you never schedule extra sessions the weekend before finals.”
“I want to,” I said. “No breaks. I’m staying in.”
My mom sounded proud. “Okay, I’ll call.”
When I hung up, I didn’t feel guilty.
Not even a little.
This time, I wasn’t going to save them.
I wasn’t going to warn them.
I wasn’t going to play the responsible martyr so they could spit on me later.
While the whole class sneaked around, meeting up and giggling about outfits and fake IDs, I sat at my desk with my tutor and worked through calculus problems until my brain went quiet.
And when my phone buzzed—when the first notifications tried to light up the screen—I got up, walked to the kitchen, and dropped my phone into a bowl of water.
The screen flickered, then went black.
A smile finally crept onto my face.
“All right,” I said, returning to my chair. “Let’s keep going.”
Across town, the bass at the club thumped so hard it felt like the walls were breathing. Lights flashed. The music swallowed hesitation whole.
A few students hovered uncertainly with drinks in their hands.
“Khloe, finals are literally on Monday,” someone said. “Is this really a good idea? If anyone finds out—”
Khloe laughed, her designer outfit catching the strobe lights like armor. She clung to Liam’s arm like it belonged to her.
“The whole class is here,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Who’s going to snitch if we all keep our mouths shut?”
She tilted her head, smiling sharp.
“The only person with a big mouth didn’t get invited.”
The doubt evaporated under peer pressure and glitter.
“Khloe’s got us. She’s loaded.”
“It’s one night. We deserve it.”
“Everyone’s here except Luna.”
Another voice snickered. “If she wasn’t Liam’s girlfriend, we wouldn’t even tolerate her.”
My name floated through the crowd like a joke.
Liam, already flushed from a few rounds, slammed his glass down.
“Don’t mention her,” he muttered. “I’m already regretting it.”
Cheers erupted.
“Dump her!”
“Finally!”
Khloe’s smile widened, satisfied. She pulled out her phone, snapped a grid of photos, and posted them with a caption that screamed perfect life, perfect friends, perfect night.
Liam drank more.
Khloe’s hand slid into his.
He let it.
And as the night peaked, right when Khloe believed I would have seen the post and come running, she finally made her move.
She stepped into the center of the group, lifted her chin, and looked at Liam like the whole world was holding its breath.
“Liam,” she said, her voice soft, “graduation is coming. I don’t want any regrets.”