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not my type

Anne_Stuart
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Synopsis
June Ellis came to New York to chase her dreams-not get caught up in boy drama. But when a public meltdown lands her on the radar of the most-talked about guy on campus, everything changes. Kai Prescott is rich, famous, and completely out of her league. At least, that's what everyone keeps saying, In a school where image is everything, June and Kai find themselves tangled in a story neither of them saw coming.
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Chapter 1 - chapter 1

Ah, sweet, sweet karma—like watching the marathon runner

who never let you catch up finally trip over their own shoelaces. You sip your

metaphorical tea, nodding in silent appreciation as the universe says,

"Your turn to gloat, but keep it classy." It's not schadenfreude,

it's just... an overdue plot twist you've been waiting for. Poetic justice with

a sprinkle of well, that's awkward.

Once again, my two best friends had been unceremoniously

rejected from the so-called elite groups. And oh, how satisfying it was.

 

Just a year ago, in our small-town Colorado high school,

they were at the top—the girls every girl wanted to be, every guy wanted to

date. But high school glory has a short shelf life, and here, in the concrete

jungle of New York, at SAV, Manhattan, the elite crowd wasn't impressed. Pretty

girls were everywhere, and my two best frenemies weren't handling the reality

check well.

 

Still, they refused to accept their fall from grace.

Watching them claw their way up a social ladder that had no interest in them

was beyond entertaining. Someone should really tell them to stop trying.

Or…maybe not. I was enjoying the show.

 

"I can't believe they would treat us like that," Lyn

huffed, flipping her perfectly highlighted blonde hair, blue eyes flashing

indignation. She looked less like a dethroned queen and more like someone who'd

just realized her VIP pass was fake.

 

I bit back a laugh. Oh, Lyn. Manhattan was chewing them

up and spitting them out, and frankly, I was here for it.

"They've been treating us like shit since the beginning,"

Mae declared, her fiery red hair bouncing as she stamped her feet like a

toddler denied dessert. Mae and Lyn—pretty, desperate Mae and Lyn—still

clinging to the dream of belonging, still failing spectacularly.

 

"Forget them," I said, knowing full well my advice would

be dismissed faster than last season's fashion.

"Of course you don't care, June," Lyn snapped, her voice

dripping with disdain. "You're comfortable being an obscure loser, but we are

not. We're going to another party tonight."

"Yeah!" Mae chimed in, her enthusiasm as forced as her

smile.

And of course, "we" meant me too. Because why not drag

the sore thumb along for the ride? I've always been the odd one out between

these two, ever since elementary school. Back then, I thought they were my

friends. High school taught me otherwise. Frenemies, bullies, queens of the

cruel. They didn't just survive the social hierarchy—they thrived on it, and I

was their favorite target.

 

But now? Now, I've risen above them.

 

"Sorry," I said, my voice sugar-sweet, "but my boyfriend

and I have plans."

 

That's right, ladies and gentlemen—I have a boyfriend.

While these wannabe slay queens are busy sulking over their lack of invites to

Manhattan's elite parties, scheming their way into the VIP section, and

dreaming of snagging a rich, handsome boyfriend, I've already got one. Me—the

reject, the invisible friend, the one no one noticed—was the first to land a

boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend, but one who's stuck around for over a

year.

 

Seth Hawthorn and I have been dating for a year. Sure, we

don't see each other as often as we'd like, but we talk all the time. Distance

may test us, but our relationship is thriving. Honestly, if I could bottle it

up and rub it all over Mae and Lyn's faces, I would.

 

Mae scoffed, arms crossed, the embodiment of pure

pettiness. "Is that even a relationship?"

 

"Yeah, you barely ever see him," Lyn added, lips pursed

in disbelief.

 

"It's a modern world, ladies—video calls exist," I said with

a smile, turning back to my journal. "But don't worry, Lyn, Mae, I'm sure

someone will show interest in you soon."

 

"Stop mocking us!" they snapped before stomping away.

 

I sighed, enjoying my brief peace—until I heard a

commotion behind me. Probably another overly confident rich student making

their presence known. No thanks. Time to make my escape. I packed up my things

and started the short walk to the dorm.

 

When I got a full scholarship to study animation in New

York, I thought I'd finally escape the exhausting competition that Lyn and Mae

thrived on. But surprise—they followed me. Not only were we in the same

college, we also shared a dorm. Fortunately, it was the kind that had separate

rooms with a shared living space. So when they got insufferable enough, I could

shut them out. Small mercies.

 

I barely make it through the door before collapsing onto

my bed, bags and portfolios abandoned at the foot like sacrifices to the

exhaustion gods. Classes haven't even properly started, and I already feel

drained.

 

And then there's Mae and Lyn. My carefully crafted

excuses about spending time with my boyfriend have worked mostly, but their

persistence is unmatched. I can already feel it—the inevitable pull into yet

another high-end party on the Upper East Side. Somehow, someway, they'll drag

me into the madness.

 

Honestly, I should start preparing now. Maybe draft a

speech titled: Why I, June, Have No Interest in Pretending to Enjoy a Room

Full of Rich People. Not that it would stop them.

 

I rolled onto my stomach, fishing my phone out of my

jeans pocket. The screen lit up instantly, revealing my wallpaper—me and Seth,

snapped last Christmas behind a snow-covered mountain back home in Messa Ridge.

The memory made me smile.

 

Unlocking my phone, I opened WhatsApp and quickly typed

out a message.

 

I'm so tired.

 

Seth replied almost instantly.

 

Why? What's up?

 

Lyn and Mae are heading to a party tonight.

 

Again? Are they on a party marathon?

 

I chuckled, thumbs flying over the keyboard.

 

Party marathon.

 

Haha, thanks for giving it a name.Lol.

I added quickly, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of

it all.

 

What are you doing?

 

Me? Just eating.

 

Alone?

 

 

There was a long pause, maybe a minute or two.

 

Nah, I'm with someone.

 

I raised a brow at the screen.

 

Should I be jealous?

 

Lol, why?

 

Who is it?

 

Another pause. Guess he was still eating. Whatever

mysterious company he had was clearly more interesting than his phone at the

moment. Fine. I'd entertain myself.

 

I slid off the bed, stretching before rummaging through

my things for something more comfortable. To an outsider, my room might look

like a disaster zone, but I liked to think of it as artfully organized chaos.

Everything had a place—just not necessarily where most people would expect it.

 

Slipping into a camisole and sweatpants, I sighed. New

York's weather was warmer than what I was used to, which meant dressing for

comfort rather than modesty. Not that it mattered much—unless I was venturing

to the living room for coffee or a snack, no one would see me anyway.

 

Except, of course, Lyn and Mae. If they caught even one

glimpse of an unshaved leg or a remotely comfy outfit, it would be an endless

interrogation.

 

"Why don't you shave, June?"

 

"Your legs are so hairy."

 

"You should exercise more."

 

"Are you watching what you eat?"

 

I rolled my eyes just thinking about it. Honestly, some

days it felt like they were less friends and more relentless fashion police.

But tonight, at least for a little while, I was free from their scrutiny.

 

Or so I hoped.

"Leave me alone." That's my usual response when

Mae and Lyn start their nitpicking. Not everyone was born with flawless

genetics, and yes, some of us, gasp, gain a little belly when we eat. It's

called being human. But of course, they don't see it that way.

 

Seth doesn't care, and honestly, that should be enough.

But the constant remarks wear thin, and I've learned to avoid them whenever

possible.

 

I glance at my phone—still no response from Seth. Fine. I

was done talking anyway. Instead, I move to my workspace by the small window,

flicking on the LED light. My pad screen lights up, revealing the animation

project I've been pouring my time into. The deadline isn't for another two

weeks, but I'm already close to finishing. Not because I have to—just because

I'm bored. And, let's be honest, working on animation is far better than

mindlessly scrolling through TikTok or binge-watching some show I'll forget

about in a week.

 

A soft vibration from my phone signals a new message, but

I barely register it. I'm already locked in—hair tied with a stray string, back

hunched, fingers itching to create. This is my world, where hours slip by

unnoticed, where my love for what I do consumes me entirely.

 

And considering I landed a full scholarship at SAV

University in Manhattan—a place overflowing with talent—I guess I'm not the

only one who feels that way.

My mother always thought I was wasting my time. In her

mind, I'd be better off working the farm back in Colorado, waiting for a suitor

to scoop me up and place me in a picturesque little home. A one-story cottage

with snow piled high in winter and a small, tidy farmland blossoming in the

spring.

 

And honestly? That's not a bad life. I do want to find

love, get married, raise a handful—no, nine and a half—kids behind a white

picket fence. But I also want to be an artist. To create breathtaking

animations, bring stories to life, and, if luck is on my side, actually make a

living doing what I love. Farm work? Not for me, no matter how many times my

mother tried to convince me otherwise.

 

Lost in thought, I barely noticed the sound of the dorm

door swinging open, followed by the unmistakable chatter of Mae and Lyn filling

the space. Only then did I lift my head, neck stiff and back aching.

 

But the ache was worth it. I glanced at my screen and

smiled—my project was complete.

 

Still, I wouldn't submit it yet. Experience had taught me

the golden rule of creative work: step away for a few days. Only then would I

see the imperfections, the little details that needed adjusting. Only then

would it be truly finished.

 

I pulled the string from my hair, letting the short

strands fall loosely around my neck as I stretched. My stomach grumbled a

not-so-subtle reminder that I'd successfully skipped lunch and was now heading

straight into dinner time with an empty stomach.

 

Dragging on a hoodie, I grabbed my phone, kicked my shoe

deeper under the bed, and absentmindedly scrolled through department group

messages. Then, I opened Seth's reply—and froze.

 

A picture.

 

Two hands intertwined. One of them unmistakably feminine.

 

Just the two of us in this little town, he

had written.

 

I blinked at the screen. I knew Seth had made a female

friend a while ago—maybe a month ago? I couldn't quite remember. And sure, he'd

been spending more time with her lately, but I hadn't given it much thought.

 

Until now.

 

My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at the picture,

dissecting every detail like it held the secrets of the universe. Was this

normal? Was I supposed to feel jealous? Should I act completely unfazed or lean

into the suspicion and demand answers?

 

Undecided, I finally sent my reply.

 

Who is that? Your new friend?

 

I sent the message, closed my phone, stuffed it into my

pocket, and reached for the door.

 

The moment I stepped into the living room, I was ambushed

by shrieks of pure joy.

 

"Ahh! It's to die for!"

 

I blinked. Oh. They were shopping. That explained why Mae

and Lyn had vanished all afternoon—off to acquire more clothes, despite Mae's

already overflowing wardrobe and Lyn's habit of treating outfits like

disposable napkins. The two of them had wealthy parents, good genes, and no

real worries beyond looking drop-dead gorgeous and attracting a hot, rich

boyfriend.

 

Must be nice.

 

I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "Hey."

 

"June! You won't believe what we found," Lyn gushed, eyes

wide with excitement. "Just the most gorgeous dress—on sale!"

 

I almost winced. That word "sale"—was practically

blasphemy in their world. The elite girls of SAV didn't do sales. They ordered

straight from designers who probably hand-stitched every gem and gold thread

onto their clothes under the soft glow of a thousand-dollar chandelier.

 

And yet, here we were.

 

"Just look at this beauty, June!" Mae declared, holding

up what appeared to be… strings. Some ropes. A very determined attempt at

fabric.

 

I squinted. "Where's the rest of it?"

 

And promptly choked on my water when they stared at me

like I had just confessed to never having heard of Gucci—as if I were some

poor, confused child who simply didn't get fashion.

 

"What are you talking about, June? Can you please get up

to speed with fashion trends? For goodness' sake, this is the Louis Vuitton

masterpiece of the year. It's everything."

 

"Sure."

 

"And we are going to look absolutely fab tonight

wearing this."

 

"Okay."

 

"Have you thought about what you'll be wearing, June?"

 

And there it was—the dreaded question. The pointed

silence that followed was familiar. I had dealt with it more times than I cared

to admit. But luckily, my well-rehearsed excuse was right on the tip of my

tongue.

 

"Seth and I have plans, I told you. We're making a video

call tonight." I took a sip of my water, reaching for a cup ramen from the

shelf.

 

Mae, in the most Mae way possible, replied in a voice

that practically sparkled like bells on a chandelier.

 

"We called Seth, and he said you guys didn't have any

plans." The downside of being friends since you were babies meant your friends

were his friends too.

 

 

I nearly choked out the, "What?" The sheer audacity sent

a jolt through my spine. I turned to them, eyes wide with indignation. "Why

would you call him?"

 

Mae shrugged, utterly unfazed.

 

 "I meant we

were going to make plans."I straightened, desperately grasping for another

excuse—but of course, Mae wasn't about to let me off the hook.

 

"Listen, June," she sighed, every bit as graceful as she

was when preparing to nag, "we are only doing this for you. It's not good that

all you want to do in college is read and learn."

 

Ah, yes. The crime of using college for its intended

purpose. How could I

 

Pretty sure college was meant for studying, but I knew

better than to say that out loud.

 

Lyn, ever the queen of entitlement, tilted her chin with

that signature air of superiority. "Not that we wouldn't mind leaving you to

remain a loser for the rest of your life, but you are our friend. It wouldn't

look good if we go out and have all the fun while you waste away inside."

 

Ah, yes. My academic ambitions, apparently equivalent to

"wasting away." I sighed internally. I wasn't wasting anything—I just had

different priorities. But pointing that out would only trigger a new round of

berating, guilt-tripping, and the usual emotional gymnastics they specialized

in. They always knew exactly how to push my buttons until I inevitably gave up.

 

"I don't—" I fumbled, trying to frame my excuse in a way

they wouldn't immediately bulldoze. "It's not that I don't want to go. I love a

good party every now and then. But being in a relationship takes a lot of

work."

 

Their eyes narrowed, perfectly synchronized, as if I'd

just committed some sort of betrayal. They knew exactly what I was

implying—that I already had a boyfriend and didn't need to be scouring parties

like they did, hoping to snag one.

 

Mae, ever the strategist, waved me off like I was a mild

inconvenience she had already resolved. "We've already gotten permission from

Seth, so stop it."

 

I blinked. Excuse me?

 

Before I could recover from the shock of my boyfriend

apparently needing to grant them permission for my social life, Mae held up a

one-piece dress. No back, barely anything else.

 

"You could wear this," she said, assessing me with the

kind of doubtful gaze one reserves for malfunctioning electronics. "Though I

doubt it would fit."

 

I stared at the dress. Then at Mae. Then at Lyn.

 

This was going to be a long night.

"Probably tight," Lyn added, ever the beacon of

unsolicited advice. "You really need to work on your weight, June."

I sighed, resisting the urge to hurl a noodle at her.

 

"I have clothes," I interjected, voice barely hanging

onto its conviction. "I can wear my clothes. Think they would fit better."

 

Mae, ever the tag-team champion, chimed in. "Yes, but

your sense of taste, June—"

 

"—is nonexistent."

 

Oh, fabulous. We were at the synchronized-attack portion

of the conversation. They really should consider turning this into a sport.

 

"Whatever." I waved them off, grabbing a pot and moving

on with my life. "If you want me to go to this thing, you'll just have to live

with it."

 

The sigh they unleashed could have powered a small wind

turbine. I ignored it, focusing instead on my noodles. Lyn, however, was still

watching me like I had personally offended her ancestors.

 

"You know, that's basically a death magnet," she remarked

as I sat down to eat, accent sharpening over the word death like it deserved

special effects.

 

I took an even bigger bite out of pure pettiness. "Then

let me die in peace."

 

Lyn huffed, clearly unimpressed by my commitment to junk

food, but I knew exactly how to escalate my rebellion—I had stocked an entire

cupboard full of cup ramen. If I was going down, I was taking my sodium-packed

army with me.

After dinner, in my room I could hear Mae and Lyn in the

living room, their voices bubbling with excitement as they rifled through

outfit choices—clothes tossed haphazardly around, almost certainly destined for

me to clean up tomorrow. Typical. 

 

I pulled out my phone, checking my messages again,

fingers tapping impatiently. Still no response from Seth. How could he abandon

me like this, knowing full well I didn't want to go? I had a perfectly

respectable evening planned—browsing animations until nine, praying, and going

to sleep like a civilized human being. But no. Now I had to find an outfit that

made me look neither like a snub nor a doormat. 

 

My earlier unanswered message had been simple yet

accusatory: 

What the hell did you do?

 

Then, ten minutes ago, I had followed up with: 

Where in the hell are you?

 

I was self-aware enough to know I could get a little

mouthy when irritated, and Seth's radio silence was pushing me toward maximum

irritation. 

 

I sighed, standing up, fingers absently fidgeting as I

stared down the sorry excuse for a wardrobe—the single-door, barely-functioning

cupboard that held my unimpressive array of clothes. Calling it a closet would

be an insult to closets everywhere. It had just enough space for the

essentials—nothing more, nothing less. 

 

I had considered the parties when packing for the

semester. I had been going since sophomore year, so it wasn't like I hadn't

thought ahead. But my allowance from my parents was a joke—barely enough for

meals, transport, and the very basics. 

 

Fashion? Luxury? Anything that didn't look like it was

sourced straight from Downtown Abbey's clearance bin? Yeah, no. 

 

I sighed again, glancing back at my phone. Maybe, just

maybe, Seth had finally decided to grace me with a response. 

 

Nope.

 

I was going to kill him.

 

I cursed myself for being so tragically easy to

manipulate. How had I let this happen? If only I had stood my ground, pushed

back harder—I'd be lying in bed right now, scrolling through my phone in

blissful peace. Instead, I was about to waste a perfectly good evening

attending a party I had zero interest in. 

 

"June! What are you doing? We are almost ready here. The

party kicks off at nine, so get out here!" 

 

Lyn's voice rang through the door, followed by giggling

and whispers. I ignored them, my eyes landing on the pair of baggy jeans I had

worn to a party once before. Nearby was the low-hanging top Mae had practically

forced me to buy last Christmas. 

 

I sighed, lifting the clothes off the shelf as if they

weighed a ton, dragging them onto my body with all the enthusiasm of someone

gearing up for battle. 

 

Then—salvation. The ding of my phone, followed by a

vibration, sent me diving for it. 

 

Seth, at last.

 

Sorry, I forgot.

 

My fingers flew furiously over my keyboard, my mouth

moving silently as I typed. 

 

You forgot? Really, you are the worst—you know that. 

 

A pause. Then, deliberately: 

 

And where were you? If you had answered earlier, you

could have told them I wasn't coming. 

 

Sorry 

 

Did he sound sorry? No, he did not, and that sent

my irritation skyrocketing. 

 

Where were you? I notice you keep not

replying to that question.

 

A long pause stretched between us, dragging out

painfully, just like it had this afternoon. I tapped my foot impatiently, still

only half-dressed in my jeans, waiting for an answer I knew was going to annoy

me. 

 

Finally— 

 

We should talk. 

 

My eyebrows shot up at the cryptic message. Talk?

Seth and I never needed to talk. We never argued—maybe because we lived in

different states, maybe because we knew each other too well. But the dreaded we

need to talk phrase? Never once had it entered our dynamic. 

 

I started typing a response when— 

 

"June! Our ride is here!" Mae yelled from the other

room. 

 

I sighed, changing what I had been about to write. 

 

I'll call you when I get to the party.

 

And with that, I sent it, frustration bubbling beneath my

skin as I grabbed the rest of my clothes. 

There was nothing for me to do except watch Mae and Lyn

flirt and fail at capturing the attention of the guys they'd set their sights

on. I had no sympathy—this was their usual routine, and they had the success

rate of a broken vending machine.

 

I finished dressing, dropping to my knees to reach under

the bed for the scuffed sneakers I hated but reluctantly needed. They had a bit

of shine, sure, but mostly they were just uncomfortable. Normally, they

remained buried under my bed, safe from my feet. But tonight, their time had

come. The pain probably wasn't worth it, but neither was listening to Mae and

Lyn bitch about me wearing sandals.

 

I ran my fingers through my hair, pushed my bangs out of

my eyes, and stepped into the living room—ready, but not happy about it.

 

The cab ride was forty whole minutes long, winding

through bends and streets I swore had just materialized out of thin air. At the

twenty-minute mark, I made the mistake of asking how much longer, only to

receive the usual combo—Mae's eye roll, Lyn's sarcastic burn, and an overall

lack of helpful information.

 

Hands folded, I endured the ride, regret gnawing at my

stomach. I mentally kicked Seth over and over again for putting me in this

situation.

 

I knew we had arrived before I even looked up—courtesy of

the music that was so loud, I briefly wondered if the entire borough was

hosting the party. It sounded like something that needed to be reported to some

authority.

 

After a short walk, we found the source—a house straight

out of a millionaire magazine. A glowing duplex, every single room lit up like

it was trying to signal aliens. Through the gates, I spotted the very

unnecessarily large swimming pool, filled with people in every variety of

swimwear—some swimming, some lounging on floats, all looking far too

comfortable in the chaos.

 

I inhaled slowly, bracing myself. "Please tell me this

isn't a pool party."

 

Mae and Lyn pressed their heads together, giggling like

cartoon villains. "Is it…?"

 

I groaned, already contemplating my escape route.

 

"Come on, June," Mae whined, linking arms with Lyn. "You

can't blame us. How else are we supposed to get any real attention? Those cruel

bitches, Helen and Regina, have been hogging all the boys."

 

I rolled my eyes to the sky. When was it ever their

fault? I had never seen Mae and Lyn take responsibility for anything. Instead,

they turned every social event into a war zone where they played the heroic

underdogs, even when their struggles were self-inflicted.

 

"Yeah, what did you expect?" Lyn chimed in, voice

dripping with manufactured innocence. "We have to make big waves, and where

better to do that than Kai Prescott's best friend's pool party?"

 

Mae clasped her hands dramatically. "It's literally the

biggest party everyone is talking about. And—" She turned to Lyn like she was

about to deliver the grand finale. "There's even going to be a bikini model

competition!"

 

They squealed, grabbed hands, and blinked at me with

their deadliest weapon—big, hopeful, pretty eyes.

 

"And we are totally going to win," Lyn declared. "Then

those two idiots will finally get toppled off their self-proclaimed thrones."

 

My jaw tightened, my voice dropping into pure irritation.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" I hissed. "There's no way I'm changing into

a bikini. And now I know why you two were ogling that skimpy wear earlier."

 

Mae flashed her nails like they were priceless artifacts.

"Relax, June. Just because it's a pool party doesn't mean everyone has to

swim."

 

Lyn nudged her chin toward a group of guys, standing

around with drinks, laughing, talking, watching the girls.

 

My teeth clenched. Ah. There it is. The trap was laid.

The Mae and Lyn social sabotage was in motion. If I refused to participate, I'd

be the only girl not swimming. Great. Just great.

 

"Just relax, June," Mae chirped, giving her nails one

last admiring glance. "Get a drink and let's have fun!"

 

With that, they high-fived each other like champions and

walked inside, leaving me behind to question every single life choice that had

led me here.

Why am I still friends with these jerks? I wondered for

the hundredth time. Oh, right—because they paid for our dorm together, and

without them, I couldn't go back home. 

 

Fuck.

 

I clenched my fists, glaring at the entrance, where two

bodyguard-looking men in suits stood like highly-trained judgment dispensers,

scanning every person walking through the gates. It was either go in with Mae

and Lyn or get stuck outside, because I absolutely did not look like someone

who should be allowed into this elite social gathering of nepotism and

questionable financial decisions. 

 

With a sigh of defeat, I crossed the threshold, bracing

myself for whatever fresh hell awaited inside. 

 

The house was just as obnoxious as I expected—too many

rooms, too much lighting, and enough luxury decor to make me wonder how many

illegal deals had gone into funding it. Fortunately, most of the party was

happening outside, which meant fewer people inside. 

 

Still, the indoor crowd had its own special brand of

chaos—people sprawled across couches making out like their lives depended on

it, others chugging what looked like radioactive liquid in the kitchen, and a

pair enthusiastically tonguing each other on the stairway. 

 

"Get a room," I muttered, weaving past them in search of

somewhere—anywhere—I could disappear into. 

 

I spotted a patio door and made a swift exit, stepping

into the secluded yard on the other side. Empty. Perfect. I shut the door

behind me and leaned against the house, reveling in a rare moment of

peace. 

 

Of course, it wouldn't last. Mae and Lyn would eventually

realize I was missing, figure out that they couldn't use me as their personal

comic relief, and come looking for me. 

 

I knew what they really thought of me—the dead weight,

the charity case, the pet friend kept around for aesthetic purposes and ego

maintenance. A punching bag for when their confidence needed a boost. 

 

I wasn't making this up. I had heard them say it. With my

own ears. So it wasn't paranoia, wasn't overthinking—it was fact. And I had

held it against them ever since. 

 

Sometimes, I forgot. Sometimes, I was too tired to keep

my defenses up. 

 

But they always reminded me why I shouldn't. Always. 

 

Damn it, it's exhausting dealing with them. If only

Seth—stupid Seth—hadn't sold me out. 

 

I gritted my teeth, remembering my conversation with him.

I wasn't done tearing him apart. Pulling out my phone, I saw that he had sent a

message. 

 

I was wondering if we could stop pretending

now. 

 

Pretending? My brain hit a hard stop. What was he talking

about? Had he sent this to the wrong person? 

 

What are you talking about? I

typed back. 

 

His reply came fast—way too fast. Like he'd been waiting

for me to respond. Probably while scrolling through TikTok. 

 

Yeah, can we talk now? Over the phone? 

 

Sure. 

 

The call came through within seconds, and I wasted zero

time. 

 

"What do you mean pretending?" I demanded, skipping all

greetings and pleasantries. 

 

Seth sighed. "Um, actually, June… I met someone. We've

been talking for a while. I told you about her." 

 

"Yeah?" I scoffed. "That you made a new friend. I

know." 

 

"Actually, just the other day, I asked her out. She said

yes. We're official now." 

 

I froze. 

 

The words didn't make sense. "Seth, what are you going on

about? Are you losing it?" I almost laughed. 

 

"I'm sorry. I know I should've talked to you first… you

know, because of everything." 

 

"Because of everything?! Seth, I'm your girlfriend!

You're my boyfriend! What are you talking about?" 

 

My voice was rising, and I knew I was losing my cool, but

how could I not? 

 

 

"What do you mean you're official with some other girl?"

My voice edged into disbelief. "Are you joking? Is this a prank?" 

 

Seth let out a frustrated breath. "Give me a moment to

talk, June. I want to explain." 

 

"Fine." I snapped. "Talk." 

 

"I know you've been telling Mae and Lyn that I'm your

boyfriend," he said carefully. "And I played along. But it's got to stop. I

have a girlfriend now, and we've been posting about each other. People are

going to find out we were pretending… so I just think we can't keep this up

anymore." 

 

I stared at the wall, my mind sprinting through every

memory, every interaction, every moment. 

 

"Pretending," I whispered. "Pretending? You're saying I

was pretending we were dating?" 

 

"Well… not just you. I was too." 

I blinked, completely floored. "Seth Hawthorn, are you

fucking mad? Are you downright insane? You're telling me I was faking our

relationship this whole time? Why didn't I know it?" 

 

Seth groaned, snapping now. "You were the one telling

people we were together! I never agreed! I just went along with it for you. Why

are you getting angry at me?" 

 

My pulse pounded against my skull. "I didn't just tell

people we were together. We were together!" 

 

My breath came in short, sharp bursts. My body

shivered—not in rage, but in horror.

"I confessed to you last spring," I said, voice deadly

calm. "You said you liked me too. We started dating, Seth. We went on dates, we

held hands, we kissed. How the fuck does that mean pretending?"

Silence.

Seth didn't answer, and the absence of words was worse

than anything he could have said.

I could hear myself panting, trying to make sense of what

was happening.

I wasn't wrong—I knew I wasn't wrong.

I remembered it so vividly—chasing after Seth outside the

movie theater, telling him without hesitation that I liked him. It hadn't been

awkward. It hadn't been a joke.

It had been natural.

He had accepted my confession.

We had hugged, held hands, stayed together well past

midnight, exploring how it felt to move from friends to lovers.

How could that not have been real?

"I'm just telling you, June," Seth finally said. "We

weren't dating. You got too used to it. We went on that date because Mae and

Lyn were around, and you didn't want them to suspect anything. We kissed to

impress them. You must have forgotten."

I stood there, wide-eyed, feeling my entire reality tilt.

There was truth in Seth's voice—sharp and burning. It

hurt. And deep down, I knew my own truth. I knew it like I knew my name, my

hometown, my parents.

I sucked in a breath and shook my head violently. "Don't

play with me, Seth. That's a lie, and you know it. I didn't make this up. I was

your girlfriend. We are dating."

Seth exhaled, his voice softening. "I'm sorry, June…

Looks like we took too long pretending."

It felt like I was floating—like I had stepped into some

alternate timeline where everything I knew was wrong.

"No, no, Seth. Come on. Stop messing with me." My voice

cracked. "You're lying, right? This is a prank. We've been dating for over a

year. It can't just be my imagination. I'm not insane."

 

Seth's next words hit like a wrecking ball.

"Yet we only kissed once, and it was when Mae and Lyn

were there."

The silence between us stretched.

I suddenly had nothing to say.

The anger was gone, replaced by something cold.

Had I really been delusional?

I swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper.

"What about my confession? You said yes. You said we were

going out now."

"I only thought you were messing around."

I said nothing, barely breathing.

"Messing around?" My voice was sharp. "Did you really

think that, Seth? Am I the type of girl who would mess around like that?"

He paused. "…June, could it be that you really—"

I hung up.

Silence.

The world stilled. The party noise faded until it was

nothing but a distant hum—so far away it might as well have been coming from a

dream.

Then, it hit.

I sank into a crouch, pressing a hand into my hair, head

tilted in absolute amazement.

He was lying. He had to be. Unless someone had implanted

me with someone else's memories, my own mind was solid evidence that I was

right.

We took pictures—sure, but we always took pictures. We

video-called for hours, but friends did that too. We said I love yous before

bed, but—was that just as friends?

Was Seth lying? Or was I the one who didn't want to see

the truth?

Nothing had really changed when we started dating.

We never called each other baby or babe like other

couples—but I'd thought Seth knew I hated that kind of thing and avoided it for

my sake.

Had I been reading too much into it?

I felt exhausted. I swallowed, my throat dry, and forced

myself to move.

Back inside.

The house was busier now—crowded with new faces I didn't

recognize.

My stomach twisted.

I felt sick.

I glanced up at the stairs—just in time to catch a group

of guys laughing as they came down.

Were they looking at me? Were they laughing at me?

I shook my head, pushing the thought away, and turned

toward the kitchen.

The guys in there were drinking, cheering, shoving each

other around like the whole world was a joke.

One of them bumped into me as he passed—hard—without even

looking at me, let alone apologizing.

I froze.

My throat closed up.

 

 

In an instant, I realized—with absolute horror—that I was

about to cry.

Not because it hurt.

But because he didn't even acknowledge me.

Tears threatened to rise, but then—anger slammed into me

instead.

No.

I refused to cry.

I spun on my heel and grabbed his arm.

"Apologize," I said through gritted teeth. "Right now.

You shoved me."

The music was loud—so loud that only he and I could

really hear me. But that didn't stop a few others from noticing. More guys were

stepping into the kitchen now, stopping just long enough to watch.

He stared at me like I'd lost my mind, and honestly? I

felt like I had.

My fingers twitched at my side.

My stomach twisted.

My brain screamed at me to drop it.

I sucked in a breath. "Forget it," I muttered, sharp and

bitter. "Asshole."

I turned, stumbling out of the mansion, the chaos inside

pressing against my back as I stepped into the open air.

My eyes darted around, looking for

someone—something—familiar.

Nothing.

Only strangers.

I exhaled. And for the first time that night, I felt it.

Felt the full weight of being alone—the crushing realization that I had no one

here.

I had spent years letting Mae and Lyn drag me through

high school, pushing and pulling me like some accessory in their quest for

popularity. The only thing that had kept me grounded was knowing I had

something they couldn't have.

But now?

Not only did I not have that—I had also been lying to

myself.

And if Mae and Lyn ever found out? Hell. On. Earth.

My feet moved before I could think.

I walked—blindly, aimlessly, home, whether I knew the way

or not.

I didn't cry.

I refused to cry.

Instead, I held myself tight, my arms locked by my side,

fists clenched as I passed the gates and stepped onto the road.