Chapter 4

In the video, Byron was smiling at Natalie with pure adoration.

He had never looked at me that way.

Not once in eighteen years.

The video froze at the moment Natalie leaned close to him, her lips parted.

Then Natalie updated Instagram.

She posted two photos: one of her and Byron at the party, and another of her full-ride award certificate.

Caption: The perfect ending. A full ride. And someone who loves me.

The comments from mutual friends stung.

[So jealous! Future wife of the Godfather!!]

She replied with a heart emoji.

[Someone is definitely losing her mind over this!]

[That tomboy. Yeah, the one hiding behind her screen and stalking this!]

I locked my phone and fell back onto the cheap mattress.

Water stains blotched the ceiling, and the fluorescent light stabbed at my eyes.

I thought of all the years I had worked myself to the bone for that scholarship.

I had given up cheer tryouts, studied until three in the morning, sacrificed every weekend, and filled more than a dozen binders with review notes.

I had been one step away from that dream. With the scholarship, I could have opened the bakery I wanted in Boston someday.

He didn't know that every plan I had made for after graduation led to Boston, the place he wanted to go.

He had said he loved the East Coast. Loved the snow in Boston.

And now?

I sat up, picked up my phone, and accepted UC San Diego's offer.

California. The place Byron would never go.

He hated summer. Said he could not stand the California sun.

Back then, my father had urged me to leave myself a way out, so I had applied to a college in a place I thought I would never set foot in for the rest of my life.

But suddenly, the thought of palm trees and West Coast sunshine sounded damn good.

California. The farther from him, the better.

When the green acceptance banner appeared,

I turned off my phone and dumped the cold mac and cheese into the trash.

He knew I hated cream. The smell made me sick, and he had still bought it for me.

He didn't remember details like that. Just as he had known I was waiting for him and still never once walked toward me.

The next day, I planned to go back to school and pack up my things.

But the moment I stepped into the hallway, every glance that landed on me was loaded with contempt.

"Ran off to a motel to hook up on prom night. Nasty."

"Who?"

"Who else? That tomboy. Someone got a video."

I stopped walking.

Natalie stood a few yards away, surrounded by cheerleaders.

She was holding up an iPhone, playing a video.

The video showed the motel hallway from the night before: me, soaked through, holding a room key.

"Desperate to get laid, huh?"

Natalie covered her mouth and laughed, each word dipped in poison.

Whispers spread around me. Stares cut into my skin.

I walked over and stopped in front of her. "Delete it."

"Why should I?" She tilted her head, all innocence. "You went to that dump of a motel all by yourself. That's not my fault."

"You're spreading rumors."

"Am I?" She turned to Byron. "Byron. Tell everyone. Did she go there to meet some guy?"

Byron stood to the side. He looked at the video on her phone, then at me.

"Byron." My voice shook. "Tell her. Tell her why I was there last night."

He knew exactly what had happened. Every single thing.

Even if he no longer cared about me. Even if eighteen years meant nothing. At the very least, he could tell the truth.

Right?

He looked me in the eye, his voice casual.

"If you're innocent, you have nothing to fear, right?"

I thought I had misheard him.

"What?"

"If you didn't do anything wrong, what are you scared of?"