Chapter 2: Breaking the Spell

Now it was the last semester of senior year. If I hadn’t heard the app’s voice, I’d have followed Carter to whatever city he went to for college, bought a house, and lived with him. God, what was I thinking?

He used my downfall to fuel his own rise. Could someone like that ever really like me? Did I really believe he cared?

I wanted to see what would happen if I stopped simping for him.

The dinner wasn’t even over when I slipped out, saying I needed the restroom but leaving the club for good. No more playing the doormat. If I was done being a doormat, I wasn’t about to pay for a meal worth thousands for people I didn’t care about. That was my monthly allowance. I wasn’t giving it up for them.

The cold night air hit my cheeks as I walked out, heels clicking on the sidewalk. For the first time in forever, I felt free. Like I could actually breathe again.

Half an hour later, Carter finally called. When I didn’t answer, he kept calling—over ten times. I tossed my phone in my bag and didn’t reply until 11 p.m.: [Something came up at home, so I left early. Forgot to tell you. You called so much—what’s up?]

He instantly replied with a voice message, furious: [If you were going to leave, couldn’t you have paid the bill first? I had to scrape money together with everyone just to pay! Do you know how embarrassing that was? I said I was treating!]

I feigned surprise: [If you were treating, why’d you make everyone split the bill?]

He replied, barely containing his anger: [You left. How was I supposed to pay? Didn’t you agree to treat us?]

Me: [I only agreed to book the room, not pay the bill!]

[So you want to show off in front of friends, but have me pay behind the scenes? Really?]

I didn’t send that last message—Carter had already blocked me.

I laughed at myself. How could I ever have thought he was outstanding, gentle, respectful, and actually liked me? For someone like that, I’d let my grades plummet. I was disgusted with myself.

It was like the spell finally broke. I saw everything for what it was: a cheap magic trick, and I’d been the willing volunteer.

The next day during break, the people from last night’s dinner came to my classroom, demanding I pay up. My stomach dropped when I saw them crowding the doorway.

I refused. "Whoever treated should pay. Why are you coming to me?"

They exchanged glances. Jessica shrilled, "You made Carter treat us at the Bellview to make him happy, then skipped out on the bill! Heather Lane, if you can’t afford it, don’t pretend to be generous! Pay up, or we’ll tell the teachers!"

The whistle blew for gym, but they blocked the door, not letting me out. The rest of the class started gossiping about how I was all show and no substance. I could feel my cheeks burning, but I stood my ground.

I sneered, pulling up my chat history with Carter and showing them. "Carter broke his record and wanted to treat everyone—what’s that got to do with me? I just booked the room. When did I say I’d pay? Why should I spend thousands for someone who’s nothing to me? Besides, I only drank a free orange juice last night—I didn’t touch the food. Are you robbing me because you can’t afford your meal? I’ll have to call the cops."

I pretended to call, and they immediately tried to stop me. "Wait! Maybe it’s a misunderstanding!"

A few guys pulled Jessica aside. "Forget it, let’s go find Carter. It’s not her problem."

Jessica protested, "How is it not her problem? She tried to play rich for Carter and stuck us with the bill!"

I leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, mocking her. "How’d you make it to the top 20 if you can’t even understand plain language? When I liked Carter, spending a little to make him happy was my choice. Now I don’t like him—why should I pay? Because you say so?"

Jessica snapped, "Look at you, can’t even score 900, and you dare talk back?"

I grinned. "You’d better work harder yourself, or you might not even beat me next time."

Jessica laughed and turned to the other top students. "Hear that? Heather Lane says she’ll beat me! She must be losing her mind over unrequited love!"

The assistant principal, a man in his forties with a beer belly, walked by and saw us all missing gym. He noticed all the top students there—except for me, the class dunce—and immediately took it out on me. "Heather Lane, what are you doing in the classroom?! Go run twenty laps!"

His voice was so loud that passing students stared. I answered calmly, "Sir, they’re blocking the door, trying to rob me of my allowance. I couldn’t go to gym."

Jessica protested, "She owes us money and won’t pay!"

The others tried to explain it was a misunderstanding.

I ignored her and told the assistant principal, "Sir, let’s call the police to clear this up, so Jessica stops fantasizing that I owe her money and distracting me from my studies."

Of course, he wouldn’t call the police. He snorted, "As if you even study."

Jessica jumped in, "Sir, you don’t know—she told me to watch out or she’d beat me!"

He laughed like it was the funniest thing. "You? Beat Jessica? All you do is chase boys and never focus on school. If you beat Jessica, I’ll let you be the assistant principal!"

My eyes lit up. "Really, sir?" I couldn’t help but smirk. If only he knew.

"If you can do it!"