Chapter 5: The Fall

By the time I left the office, the sun was sinking. Campus was nearly empty. I checked my phone—everyone was at the teacher appreciation dinner nearby. Ryan was there, too.

Someone in the group chat posted a picture: Ryan in a white tee and cargo pants, jacket slung over his arm, looking like a model straight out of a college brochure. His gaze was distant, lashes shadowing his eyes.

And me?

The glass of the school bulletin board showed my reflection: thin, plain, two stress zits on my forehead from too many late nights. I looked nothing like the Instagram-perfect girl I’d pretended to be.

The chat was popping off:

“Ryan looks so good but totally out of it.”

“Probably thinking about Chloe. They’re supposed to meet at the top.”

Chloe chimed in: “Met, met.”

The guilt from my lies kept me from meeting Ryan. But maybe it was the heady night air—suddenly I wanted to see him anyway.

At the restaurant, I checked my phone for the floor. Two messages popped up from Ryan:

“That photo isn’t you, is it?”

“You’re really ugly in real life. How dare you use a fake photo to trick me? Disgusting.”

I stopped cold. My fingers went numb. Then a new Instagram post appeared: Chloe, draped in Ryan’s jacket, pressed close to him. The caption read: “Snagged the star of MIT. Sorry, not sorry.”

My stomach twisted. Even the night air felt icy. I gripped my phone until my knuckles ached, then pressed delete and watched the fantasy vanish, pixel by pixel.