Chapter 2

The amount in the channel’s betting pool jumped instantly.

A thousand bucks stood out sharply among all the ten- and twenty-dollar pocket change bets.

The chat box, which had been flooding nonstop, froze for a few seconds.

Soon, someone sent a string of question marks.

"What’s going on? Who is this lurker? They dropped a thousand dollars right away?"

"That ID looks unfamiliar. Where did this rich guy come from?"

"Could it be Chloe herself? Tyler, you didn’t kick her out, did you?"

I put down my coffee cup and tapped on the screen.

"I’m Chloe."

"Winner takes all. See you tomorrow night."

The moment the message was sent, my phone started vibrating wildly.

Tyler flooded my DMs.

"Are you crazy?"

"Where did you get a thousand dollars? Didn’t you say all your part-time money was going toward tuition?"

"The guys were just joking. What are you doing jumping in and making a scene?"

I looked at the accusations he sent, my gaze landing on the red dress in the mirror.

The old me was insecure and didn’t like talking to people in real life.

So I chose an online relationship and met Tyler.

Over the past year of that online relationship, I had helped him revise fourteen economics term papers.

When he got drunk at a party in the middle of the night, I stayed on FaceTime with him until dawn across the time zones.

He complained that all the girls around him were too shallow, and only I understood his soul.

Looking back, he was just unwilling to lose a free high-end academic ghostwriter and a twenty-four-hour online therapist.

I didn’t reply to him.

Luke, the one who loved stirring trouble the most, sent three whistle emojis in a row.

"Nice. A 300-pound dose of courage is heavyweight, all right."

"Since Chloe dares to come, then tomorrow night’s King of Spades punishment has to be played all the way through."

"Tyler, now it’s our turn to draw cards."

A link to a virtual card-drawing mini game popped up in the channel.

Tyler was obviously panicking. He directly tagged me in the channel.

"Chloe, be good and cancel the bet. Tomorrow night’s formal is black-tie. You don’t have the right clothes, and coming will only embarrass you."

It sounded like concern, but really he was just afraid of losing face.

I was about to type when a new message popped up in the channel.

"Can you all not be so mean?"

It was Serena, the business school’s recognized head cheerleader.

"Even though Chloe’s body type is a little unusual, flying over here from so far away isn’t easy. Tyler, how can you use your girlfriend as a bet?"

"Chloe, if you don’t have a formal dress, I can lend you one. But my size is XS, so you might need to check a plus-size women’s store to see if they have any one-size-fits-all capes."

The group instantly burst into laughter.

"Serena really is kind. A cape is perfect, just cover her up and problem solved!"

"Unreal. Let’s just change tomorrow night’s formal theme to a Halloween pre-show. I’m scared I’ll laugh out loud."

I looked at the insults scrolling across the screen and felt my heart turn colder.

Over the past year, in order to stand beside Tyler with my head held high, I had sweated it out in the gym every single day.

When stomach pain hit from extreme dieting, I still had to grit my teeth and help him with data analysis in front of my computer while my body cramped up.

All because I thought he was the first person who loved only my soul.

I left the group and threw my phone onto the sofa.

Then I turned and walked to the full-length mirror, pulling up the invisible zipper at the back of the red dress.