“He's not my type.”
Mike kept checking his phone the entire time we talked. I knew—gut-level—he already had someone.
My mom's voice turned mocking：
“Then what is your type? You want me to set you up with a billionaire's son? Would that be good enough?”
My face went white in an instant. Insecurity and fear slammed into me at the same time, old and familiar and suffocating. My mind blanked. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run.
But she couldn't see what was happening inside me, and what she said next was worse.
“Take a good look at yourself. Besides the Simmons name, what exactly do you have that anyone would like? I break my back trying to find you a match, and it turns out your standards are sky-high. This one's not good enough, that one's not to your liking.”
I bit down hard on the soft flesh of my tongue, fingers picking at each other without me realizing, forcing the tears back with everything I had.
“I just remembered I have something to take care of at school. I should head back.”
I left the mall and bought the fastest ticket back to campus I could get.
On the train, my dad called over a dozen times and sent a string of texts.
【Your mom runs that whole company by herself. It's not easy. Of course her temper's a little short.】
【You have to understand, no one in this world will ever love you more than your parents.】
……
My nose stung. I turned off my phone.
And to think I'd actually believed they missed me.
On the way home I'd even hated myself for being so petty, for picking a school so far away just to put distance between us.
Now I saw it clearly. Family smells sweet from far away. Get close, and it reeks.
When I got back to the dorm, only Ruby was there.
Then I remembered Jill and Bernice were locals; they'd be home by now.
I walked closer and found Ruby hunched over her phone, muttering curses under her breath.
She caught me in her peripheral vision, shot to her feet, eyes full of worry.
“Do you know a Delilah Perry?”
I shook my head, then nodded, confused.
Technically, I'd only met her last night.
But how did Ruby know about Delilah? Right—yesterday's mess between me and Delilah had blown up all over the campus forum. She must have seen it.
Her voice pitched high, almost cracking.
“She's telling everyone you stole her boyfriend!”
The words hit like thunder.
A ringing filled my ears, and the blood in my veins seemed to freeze, cold spreading from my hands to my feet.
Ruby shoved her phone screen in front of me.
Delilah had posted under her real name, publicly accusing Penelope Simmons from Financial Management Class 2, Class of '24, of being a homewrecker. The post had already been pushed onto the trending list.
It felt like someone had their hand around my throat. I couldn't breathe.
“Since when am I a homewrecker?”
My reaction was too raw to be faked.
Ruby let out a long breath, the tension leaving her shoulders.
She grabbed her things, fuming：
“I knew you'd never do something like that. Come on, I'll go with you to file a police report.”
The next second,
fists slammed against the dorm's metal door so hard the ceiling shook and dust sifted down from above.
“Get the hell out here, 201!”
“Real tough behind a screen, aren't you? Show your face or admit you're a coward!”
“Open this door now, or we're coming in whether you like it or not!”
……
I looked at Ruby, bewildered.
My eyes asked the question for me.
Her face had gone pale.
“Delilah and her friends were all over the internet trashing you, saying some eighty-year-old man was keeping you. I couldn't just sit there, so I hit back. I didn't think they'd actually show up.”
Something detonated in my chest—pure, white-hot rage.
Good. I'd been wondering how to find them, and here they were, coming straight to me.
I threw the dorm door open.
