Chapter 5

It took me almost half an hour to walk back to the dorm from

where Kai dropped me off. I didn't bother taking a bus—not because I had some

grand appreciation for scenic routes, but mostly because I had forgotten my

wallet like the absolute genius I am. Thankfully, the air was cool enough to

make my aimless trudging feel somewhat intentional.

As I walked, I tried to untangle the absolute mess that was

my thoughts. Just hours ago, I had been convinced my life was over—obliterated

by Seth's inability to keep his mouth shut. It still baffled me how I had gone

so long without realizing I was, in fact, dating myself. The sheer level of

obliviousness on my part was almost impressive.

How could I have been so trusting? So ridiculously unaware?

And worse—how had Seth, someone I've known practically since birth, turned out

to be this much of a blabbermouth? We grew up together,

survived school together, even managed to stay somewhat connected despite

having wildly different aspirations. And yet, I had never once suspected he was

the human equivalent of a loudspeaker with no mute button.

I felt irritation bubbling up again, threatening to morph

into full-blown rage. I shoved it down—sort of. Before today, I had been

willing to overlook everything, take the blame for our misunderstanding, and

move on like the responsible adult I allegedly was. But now? Oh, now I wished I

could see Seth.

Not for a mature, heartfelt conversation—no. I wanted to

launch myself at him like a deranged bat from hell, claws first, screeching his

name in betrayal. Because what he did? Unforgivable.

Even as I stewed in the injustice of it all, I knew deep

down that Mae and Lyn would've found out eventually. There was no escaping it

forever. But still, I'd been hoping for a future version of that discovery—one

where I had a boyfriend of my own, maybe someone tall and annoyingly hot who

liked my weird figurine collection and thought my frizzy morning hair was

"cute." In that version, the truth wouldn't have stung so badly.

But no. It had to happen now.

And I had Kai Prescott to thank for it. A total stranger,

someone I hadn't even known existed until today, somehow managed to reroute the

trajectory of my shame like a cosmic slapstick comedy. And naturally, instead

of dwelling on my train-wreck of a love life, Mae and Lyn had their attention

hijacked by their true religion: celebrity.

It still didn't feel real.

The second Kai left, it was like I'd released two feral cats

into the room. Mae and Lyn pounced, eyes lit with a kind of rabid sparkle,

their words coming at me like darts from a rapid-fire trivia machine.

"Why did Kai Prescott follow you into our dorm?"

"What the hell is going on?"

"How did you even meet him?"

"What did he say?!"

It was an onslaught. I blinked at them, dazed, the way you

do when you walk into the wrong Zoom class and realize too late that everyone's

mid-presentation.

I expected judgment. Maybe a bit of scolding for causing a

scene. But this? This felt like I'd stepped into a parallel universe.

"Wait, wait—slow down. I can't hear anything with both of

you talking at once. Who?"

Mae looked at me like I'd just kicked a puppy. Her whole

body sagged with dramatic disbelief before she clicked her tongue, the sound

sharp enough to slice bread. "Why are you so oblivious, June? Try to be more

current."

Lyn chimed in, equally scandalized. "Do you have any idea

who you just brought into our dorm? Who you just let walk out of here—with his

shirt rumpled, no less."

She raised her brows so high they nearly launched off her

forehead, each one arching like it was personally offended by my ignorance.

"I had no choice," I said, hands flailing like that somehow made it more

reasonable. "You think I just have nine hundred dollars lying around for

emergency shirt casualties?"

They stared at me, arms folded like synchronized mannequins at a fashion

shoot. "Tell us exactly what happened."

I went quiet. Not because I was hiding anything, but because I was more than

happy to veer far away from any talk about Seth and my accidental

year-long solo relationship. If this whole Kai Prescott thing was enough to

distract them? Great. Fantastic. Bring on the interrogation.

"I spilled coffee on his shirt," I began. "So I brought him here to wash

it."

"That we got," Mae said, her tone sharp with suspicion.

"And?" Lyn added, one brow cocked like a suspicious aunt at Thanksgiving

dinner.

"And… I got his shirt cleaned and sent him on his way."

"Wow," Lyn breathed, like she'd just witnessed the final twist of a

soap opera. Mae gasped beside her—scandalous, drawn-out, Oscar-worthy.

"So not only did you spill coffee on Kai Prescott's shirt," Lyn

began, gesturing with slow, dramatic flair, "you brought him to this dorm. Into

your cluttered goblin cave of a room. And made him get naked?"

"Naked?" I choked, eyes going full saucer. "No, no, no—I gave him a shirt to

wear!"

"Not that shirt, right?" Mae said, a devilish grin twitching on her

lips.

"The one from Seth," Lyn said, eyes alight. "The one steeped in your tragic

love and desperate longing."

I shut my mouth. My irritation spiked like someone had just poked me in the

side with a very sharp stick. "Whatever," I muttered. "It's not like it

matters."

"Of course it matters!" Mae threw her hands up. "That was Kai

Prescott. Are you crazy?!"

I squinted at her, completely lost. "What the hell is a Kai Prescott? Is

that, like, a code word for something? Some secret language only party girls

understand?"

"It's a person, " Mae

declared, exasperation dripping from every syllable. "Literally the most famous

person in SAV. The god of hotness."

"And fame," Lyn added for dramatic effect.

"He's both an actor and a model and his

Instagram—where he posts all his ridiculously perfect performance art—has over four million followers."

"The school has practically written up his graduation

certificate before his final year," Mae continued. "Everyone

knows him."

"Unless you live under a rock," Lyn muttered.

The horror on my face escalated with every word they spoke. Were they serious? Was he really that famous?

And did I—oh my god—accidentally pour coffee on SAV's golden boy? In front of

the entire school?

"Oh my god," I whispered, my hands flying to my mouth. "I poured coffee on him. And refused to pay for his shirt."

"Uh-huh," Mae said, unimpressed. "You really are so clueless, June."

"What if he posts this on his Instagram and it blows up ?" I felt the panic setting in.

"Everyone is going to be on my case."

"Your life at SAV will be officially over," Lyn said ominously.

I snapped upright. "I have to—I have to do something before he leaves. Before I have

the entire school breathing down my neck."

And that was how I ended up sprinting after Kai Prescott

like my academic survival depended on it—because honestly, it did. 

Not that it changed anything.

I still couldn't pay him back. Shameful, really. But

strangely enough, he had been pretty

cool about it. Not the reaction I

expected from someone both famous and rich.

I still couldn't wrap my head around the way he just walked out of there, perfectly unfazed, in a two-thousand-dollar

 shirt like this was just another

Tuesday.

 Must be nice, I thought bitterly. To live life without worrying about money—how

it keeps leaving your pockets but never finds its way back in.

Still, I prayed—desperately—that this whole debacle would

not end up on the school's gossip page. I'd heard the horror stories. Names

dragged through mud, lives derailed over minor offenses. All because someone

had the gall to sneeze in the direction of Regina or Helen.

Regina and Helen: the reigning queen bees of SAV,

untouchable, impeccably dressed, and armed with sarcasm sharper than broken

glass. One wrong move around them and you were done. A meme. A punchline. A

walking cautionary tale.

If I hadn't realized in time who Kai was—or worse, if he

hadn't been the human equivalent of a chill breeze—I could've been waking up to

"Coffee Goblin Terrorizes Campus Heartthrob" headlines.

The sun dipped just as I reached the dorm, the last amber

sliver of light swallowed by the coming dark. Good. I'd sneak in, tiptoe to my

room, avoid interaction like it was contagious. Cold war status with Mae and

Lyn was still firmly in place. And after everything, I had zero desire to

reconcile just to hear how they really felt about me post-Seth meltdown.

Please be out. Please be in your rooms. Please be swallowed

by a fashion dimension.

No such luck.

The moment I walked in, both heads turned. Laser-locked. The

living room was suddenly very small.

"What happened?" Mae asked, already striding over from the

kitchen like she was about to host a press conference.

"I take it you screwed up again," Lyn chimed from the couch,

sipping tea like it was spilled truth.

My face must've been saying something, but it wasn't about

Kai. "It's settled," I muttered, resisting the urge to sprint to my room and

barricade the door with a bookshelf.

"Lucky you, huh," Lyn said flatly.

"Did you enjoy it?" Mae shot next, eyes sharp. "Having Kai

in your room."

Wait—what?

My brow arched, slow and suspicious. "What does that have to

do with anything?"

"Don't get conceited, June," Mae snapped. "Just because Kai

Prescott was in your room. And in case you feel the need to start spreading

that little fact—"

"No one would believe you anyway," Lyn cut in, not missing a

beat.

A tag-team. Nice.

"Yeah," Mae continued, "and even if someone did believe you,

it's not like it'll ever happen again. Just a one-time thing."

And that's when it hit me.

They were jealous.

Burning, fuming, barely-holding-it-together jealous.

All because Kai Prescott—school demigod and verified

Adonis—had followed me back to our dorm. Had stepped into my room. Had stayed

for all of five whole minutes.

And somehow, that made me public enemy number one.

I hid a smile.

Depending on how I played this—just right, with a little flair and

mystery—maybe, just maybe, my public humiliation over Seth could be buried.

Forgotten. Smothered under the blinding, sublimated glow of Kai Prescott's

accidental spotlight.

"Yeah, I know," I said casually, brushing invisible dust off my shoulder

like I wasn't still cringing inside. "We won't even cross paths again. I mean,

we're from literally different worlds."

"Try universe," Mae muttered, arms crossed, clearly struggling to

keep her envy from leaking through.

"Exactly." I gave an exaggerated sigh, feigning detachment. "Though it was

nice. He said my room was cool, liked my anime figurines—and he even took my

number."

Boom.

A golden point, right there. I let it sparkle in the silence.

"He won't call though," I added with a shrug, knowing full well they'd latch

onto that. But the way their faces froze mid-expression? That was the real win.

Like I'd just performed a magic trick with no setup. "Even if he does

call, I probably won't answer. I mean, we're so far apart."

The silence was bliss.

Until it shattered.

"What do you mean he collected your number?"

"Are you serious right now?"

Their voices overlapped in disbelief, and I had to bite the inside of my

cheek to keep from laughing. That expression—shock, envy, maybe a pinch of

dread—was going to be my comfort image for months.

"It was just a one-time thing," I said, all innocence and subtle smugness.

"Why are you so surprised?"

For once, Lyn was speechless. Lyn, whose mouth had never known

peace. She turned to Mae, as if looking for a lifeline.

Mae, ever the spokeswoman of petty grace, recovered first. "Listen, June.

Kai's just… really nice. Like, heart-of-gold nice. But I know you—don't start

thinking just because he asked for your number it means something."

I could've laughed. I really could've. But instead, I dropped my gaze with a

mock-humble nod. "I wouldn't dare. I mean, who am I? Just a quiet little art

student with no money and zero fame. I'll stay in my lane, thanks."

"It's good you know your place," Lyn muttered, but I caught the twitch in

her eye. She wasn't satisfied. She didn't believe me. And that made it even

better.

"Well then," I said, already walking away, "I'm off to my room. Where Kai's

cologne is probably still lingering in the air. Adios."

I opened the door, stepped in, and shut it behind me before they could say

another word.

Victory? Achieved.

It was official.

I finally defeated Mae and Lyn.

Those terrible, terrible people.

I let out a soft gasp of delight and collapsed onto my bed like a starlet in

a drama. Kai's cologne was still lingering in the room—something fresh and

airy, like sunlight caught in a bottle. How? I had no idea. But of course

it smelled expensive.

And his smile. Don't get me started. He had dimples—dimples—and a

way of looking at you like you were an entire conversation, not just background

noise. I could absolutely see why he was a model and an actor. And

somehow, he was also… nice? Not the kind of nice that's performative and fake,

but the kind that sneaks up on you and makes you feel like you're not entirely

invisible.

It's honestly tragic his fanbase is full of girls like Mae and

Lyn—self-absorbed, image-obsessed, mean for no reason. If they knew he'd been

in my room, even for five minutes, could my blissfully quiet life turn into a

circus?

Nope. Not happening.

Lyn and Mae would literally rather choke than let that truth slip.

They wouldn't survive other people whispering about it. Their pride would

combust.

I hugged my pillow and kicked my feet up in sheer, unfiltered joy. I felt

giddy, like I'd just pulled off a heist and gotten away with it.

I wish I could thank Kai. Not for the shirt thing or the awkward coffee

incident, but for saving me from the social disaster Seth almost turned my life

into.

By just being who he was—cool, unbothered, and kind—he gave me something I

hadn't felt in days: relief.

A win. Even if it's just this once, I'll take it.

The following days were… almost peaceful. Which, in this apartment, felt

like a luxury.

Our cold war was officially over. No more passive-aggressive silences or

dramatic eye rolls across the room. We were talking again, though every so

often Mae and Lyn's jealousy would rise like steam off a kettle—quiet but

scalding.

"Did he call you yet?" they'd ask with mock curiosity, practically vibrating

with hope that the answer was no.

And when I'd shrug and say, "Nope," they'd sigh with so much relief you'd

think they'd just avoided a natural disaster.

Truth was, I was pretty sure Kai Prescott had forgotten both my name and my

number the second he walked out that door. And why wouldn't he? People like him

lived in fast-forward. They didn't pause for someone like me. What could I

possibly offer to someone who had everything? Scraps from June Ellis? Not

exactly a fair trade for a designer shirt.

So, I went about my days with new vigor.

I blocked Seth's number after the fifth time he called and lived the kind of

college life I had always envisioned—quiet, focused, and void of boy

drama.

Parties with Mae and Lyn were now background noise I no longer felt the need

to participate in. That is, until Seth came back into the

conversation.

I was in the kitchen, sitting by the counter, munching cereal like it was a

source of divine energy before I tackled Professor Shane's latest sadistic

exercise. The apartment was chaotic—per usual—because Mae and Lyn were getting

ready for yet another party. The living room had transformed into a battlefield

of clothes, makeup, and unanswered existential questions like "Does

this dress make me look mysterious or desperate?"

As always, I knew I'd be the one picking up the mess the next morning. Not

because I wanted to—but because it was easier to do it myself than try to make

them clean up.

I felt eyes drilling into the back of my head, and absentmindedly rubbed my

ears as if it would make the sensation go away.

"You're not still waiting for Kai to call, right?" Mae asked, out

of nowhere, like she had a sixth sense for uncomfortable topics.

I shot her a look, but just kept eating. It wasn't even worth dignifying

with a response.

"She knows that's an impossible dream, Mae," Lyn chimed in with a

laugh. "Do you remember the kind of girls Kai dates? Do they look anything

like June?"

She snickered, and my eyebrows twitched in annoyance. Why did she have this

uncanny ability to needle me right where it stung the most?

"I don't care whether he's Kai Prescott or Justin Bieber, I'm not

interested, anyway," I muttered, eyes still fixed on my food as if I could

melt into the plate and escape.

"Still pining after Seth?" Mae asked, her voice oozing with fake

sympathy.

I froze. Seth. The name hit me like a punch to the gut, and I could feel the

air around me stiffen. It had been the first time anyone mentioned him since...

well, since... and the wound was still fresh. Still a sore spot, one I

wasn't ready to let anyone pick at.

I clamped my mouth shut, determined to finish my meal in peace before they

took their cruelty to new levels.

"You know, Seth's just a scumbag, right?" Lyn said, casually, like

we were discussing the weather.

I blinked. Wait, what? She was defending me? I thought I was the

one dodging bullets here, but somehow Seth was the one getting hit?

I turned toward her, still trying to make sense of it. She was wearing that

rare, almost saintly sympathetic expression, the kind that only appeared once

in a blue moon—like a solar eclipse.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, despite the

internal alarms screaming for me to not engage. This was dangerous territory—thin ice,

fragile ground, whatever metaphor worked.

Mae sighed, stepping closer like this was some grim

intervention. " June, " she said slowly, as if preparing me for

something catastrophic. "Can't you see? Do you even know who he's dating?"

I shook my head. Of

course I didn't. Why would I? Nobody

willingly rubs salt into their own wounds, and that was exactly what I'd be

doing if I actively sought out information on who Seth's real girlfriend was. Because I knew, deep down, it had never been me.

Mae exchanged a glance with Lyn—one of those silent,

telepathic conversations best friends have.

Lyn stood, phone in hand, her movements deliberate. Before I

could even brace myself, she shoved the screen toward me.

I didn't want to look.

But it was too late.

The image was right in front of me—golden hair cascading

like spun sunlight, a bright, effortless smile, a figure so slim she looked

almost unreal.

 Sam. 

Short for Samantha.

Messa Ridge's reigning queen of hot. The girl who had turned heads effortlessly

when we were all in high school.

And the girl Seth had actually chosen.

I shook my head, the weight of comparison pressing down on

me. Next to that level of beauty, I was a mere speck—a dust

particle on an otherwise pristine windshield. The urge to shut myself in my

room for the next week, preferably under a weighted blanket of self-pity, was very strong.

Mae's voice snapped me back to reality. "What does this tell

you?"

"That I'm severely lacking," I said with a dry laugh, wondering

when Mae would finally tire of her relentless need to torment me.

"No, fool," she huffed. "Did you know that Seth has been

asking out Sam for a long time?"

I stared. No. No, I did not know that. In fact, the only thing I remembered about Seth and Sam was that

he never had a single kind word to say about her. He thought she was

 arrogant, bitchy, and—if I recalled correctly—"belonged in

hell." His literal words.

Mae pressed on. "She turned him down a bunch of times. Then,

 suddenly , she asked him out."

I blinked. " She asked him

 out? Not the other way around?"

Mae shook her head, looking over at Lyn like she needed backup head shaking for emphasis.

Lyn provided the necessary confirmation. "We got the full

gist from Mel. Sam's boyfriend broke up with her, and in a fit of pure spite , she got mad and asked Seth out."

The pieces of this disastrous puzzle clicked into place.

"So… what you're saying is—"

"Seth lied to you," Mae cut in, matter-of-factly. "He

pretended you guys weren't dating so he could turn you down without

actually breaking up with you."

I laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound. "That's fresh, Mae. Really. How did you come up with something that ridiculous?"

"She's right , June,"

Lyn chimed in, crossing her arms. "That's why we haven't given you grief about

what Seth told us. We already knew the truth."

"We thought it'd be funny

 when you two finally broke up," Mae

admitted, not even bothering to sugarcoat it.

"But we didn't expect Seth to be such a coward ," Lyn added. "Instead of breaking up,

he's trying to make you look crazy so he doesn't come out as the bad guy."

I sat there, letting that sink in.

Then, after a long pause, I exhaled sharply.

 Wow.

I thought about it, chewing over the humiliation like it was

a piece of gum I couldn't spit out.

"Yeah, well," I muttered, "he couldn't very well tell me the

truth—that he wanted to leave me for a prettier model. So he made it look like

a simple misunderstanding. So I couldn't blame him."

I trailed off, feeling the limit of my emotional endurance

tap-dancing on my last nerve. Mae and Lyn went quiet, their eyes on me like I

was a bomb they weren't sure had been defused or just ticking slowly.

Fucking Seth. Fucking bastard. Would it have killed him to

just break up with me like a normal human being? No. He had to make it messy,

gaslight-y, and soul-destroying, just because the girl he'd always secretly

drooled over finally tossed him a crumb of attention. He could've been honest.

He promised me he'd never date someone like her. His words: "Not even if she

was the last woman on Earth." Son. Of. A. Bitch.

"One moment," I said, rising to my feet like I was about to

declare war.

Mae and Lyn didn't say a word as I stormed into my room. I

paused dramatically at the door, took a deep breath to gather every atom of my

fury—and then screamed, "ASSHOLE!!!"

Still not enough. Not even close.

I needed more. I needed him to hear what I thought of him.

Needed him to feel the fire of my righteous fury from wherever he

was—preferably a pit of snakes.

I unblocked him, dialed his number, and paced like an angry

CEO preparing for a hostile takeover.

He picked up. "This is Seth."

"You fucking piece of shit!!! I hope you die alone! I hope

you lose all your hair, your teeth, and the use of your left eye! I hope you

rot in the ninth circle of hell, you son of a bitch!"

"Whoa, whoa—June, calm down! What the hell?"

"Don't ever in your miserable, lying life talk to me again.

Fuck. You."

I ended the call and stood there, panting like I'd just run

a marathon up the dorm stairs carrying an elephant.

Still not enough. Not nearly satisfied.

"Hey," Lyn knocked lightly, her voice slipping through the

crack in the door like a polite intruder. "We're about to head out. You sure

you'll be okay on your own?"

Well. That was unexpectedly thoughtful. I blinked at the

door. Was she… worried about me? Me? The girl they usually roasted like it was

a team sport?

Problem was, I was brimming with frustration and

post-rage-call energy like a shaken soda bottle, and there was no way this

shoebox of a room was going to contain all that fizz. I needed air. Noise.

Distraction. Maybe watching Mae and Lyn try (and fail) to mingle with people

cooler than them would be exactly the mental cleanse I needed.

I opened the door. "Can I come with you guys?"

They exchanged one of their patented telepathic

glances—possibly debating if I'd be a mood-killer or comic relief. Mae finally

shrugged. "Sure. But wear something else. Something… much else."

I snorted. On another day I might've been offended, but

after today's emotional rollercoaster, I was too dead inside to care. "Fine.

I'll dress up a little."

Back in the room, I pulled on my tightest skinny jeans, a

low-hanging tank with no sleeves, and layered a cropped, long-sleeve top over

it. Hair tie out. Let the wild strands fall. I glanced at myself in the mirror.

No, I wasn't Samantha Kane. I didn't have legs for days, a

face that could launch a thousand brand deals, or teeth that sparkled like

cartoon diamonds. But damn it, I was still me. And I had to keep living this

train-wreck-of-a-life, preferably while looking vaguely hot.

"I'm ready," I said, stepping out and slamming the emotional

coffin lid shut on Seth freaking Hawthorn.

Then I followed my two stylish frenemies into the night like

a girl on a mission: to feel anything but betrayed.