1: 1
At the start of junior year, my best friend and I both ran for vice president of the student council.
He was the one who suggested that whoever lost had to dress up as a clown and run eight laps around the track.
In the end I won by ten votes.
But the next second, my girlfriend, Maureen Henson, put photos of the night I'd been molested at a bar up on the big screen.
Along with a pile of private photos.
She announced, cold and flat:
"I don't think a man who's this money-hungry, with a private life this messy, deserves to be in this race."
Everyone turned to me with disgust in their eyes, like they were looking at the filthiest piece of trash.
I was disqualified on the spot and thrown off the student council.
Recognizing the background in those photos, I stopped Maureen and asked, shaking:
"Why lie? Those private photos, they were clearly you—"
She leaned in close with a smile, deliberately lowering her voice:
"Baby, who it was doesn't matter."
"You know how vain Merlin Walker is. He goes red-eyed over a strand of hair out of place. Make him wear something like that and he'd cry all night."
"Besides, you did get molested, and you did sleep with me. Both are facts. I just combined them, that's all. Be good, and once you finish running I'll take you out for a nice dinner."
I watched her and my best friend slap a cheerful high-five and start debating where to celebrate.
I wiped away my tears and dialed a number:
"Mom, I've thought it over. I've decided to come study abroad where you are."
……
Someone dug a clown suit out of a storage room and tossed it in front of me.
It was smeared with some kind of stain, damp to the touch.
The guy explained, grinning:
"Spilled my instant noodles at lunch and couldn't quite catch it. Don't be so picky, Harry."
"Anyway, I hear rich people party pretty wild, they pour red wine and stuff all over the guys they buy. You must be used to that already, right?"
"Of course, if you'd rather run it naked we wouldn't mind either. Perfect chance to admire the design department's heartthrob, oh, sorry, the department slut's body, hahaha~"
The smell of instant noodle broth, mixed with the leers of those few guys.
It sat on my chest like a stone.
The truth was, that night Maureen had happened to show up in time, stopped it, and called the police, so nothing had actually happened.
But I'd still been terrified, afraid that if word got out I'd be talked about behind my back.
She was the one who'd promised, in her own words, to keep it a secret for me.
And now, the one nailing me to the pillory as a "slut" was also her.
When I came out of the restroom after changing, Maureen was waiting at the door.
"Relax, I kept watch for you. Nobody peeked."
"I told them, too, not to go running their mouths."
They were considerate words, but hearing them only made me cold.
I lifted my eyes to her:
"So when you said you'd been drugged that night, that was a lie to me, all so you could take photos while I was asleep and help Merlin win the race. Right?"
In all the years Maureen and I had been dating in secret, we'd never crossed that line.
Until a few nights ago, when she suddenly called me, saying that while she was out lining up sponsors for a school event, someone had slipped a drug into her drink.
Seeing her look so pitiful, begging me to help him, I softened.
I never imagined it was a trap she'd carefully laid for me.
Before Maureen could speak, Merlin's eyes reddened first.
"Harry, don't blame Maureen. She was just afraid of the shame if I lost."
"Why don't you take the clown suit off and give it to me, I'll run in your place. So what if people laugh at me—"
Maureen frowned and stopped him:
"Run? Since when could you, you little vain thing, stand wearing something that ugly?"
"Besides, you don't have Harry's stamina. Just stay put and behave."
She looked me over, displeased:
"Harrison Harding, stop being so obsessed with winning. It's only a few photos. Isn't it enough that I know you're innocent?"
"Not everyone came out of an orphanage the way you did. Merlin's parents and relatives all know he's running for vice president. If he loses, where's he supposed to put his face?"
My heart clenched all at once, and it hurt so much I couldn't breathe.
I never knew when coming out of an orphanage had become a crime.
September in Southport, and the evening was still oppressively muggy.
By the sixth lap, my vision kept going black, and I went down.
Behind me came Maureen's anxious voice: "How is it, are you okay?"
I turned my head on instinct, then froze.
She had a cold soda in one hand for Merlin, the other gently rubbing his back.
Her eyes exasperated and doting.
"Drink slower, no one's going to take it from you. See? You choked, didn't you?"
"Only two more sips. Your stomach's bad, too much cold stuff won't sit right."
She hadn't so much as glanced at me the whole time.
A few freshmen who'd just finished their orientation drills happened to pass by, recognized Maureen, and greeted her, envious and excited.
"Maureen, is this the guy your boyfriend? Wow, you two look so good together, wishing you a happy ever after!"
The others chimed in, teasing:
"Ugh, you've been rubbing it in our faces for three years now, still not sick of it?"
"Come clean, you two have secretly been together forever, haven't you? Doesn't matter, late-night snacks are on you tonight!"
I watched Maureen and Merlin share a smile.
Not one of them denied it.
The burning in my throat from thirst spread down into everything inside me.
After that night at the hotel, I'd asked Maureen if we could go public about us.
But she'd frowned and said:
"Harry, we're both on the student council. We have to avoid any appearance of impropriety."
"Otherwise people will suspect that I, as president, am abusing my position to hand my boyfriend favors. Let's wait until we graduate."
So it turned out it wasn't about avoiding appearances.
It was just that the one she wanted to go public with was someone else.
I quietly took out my phone and opened that familiar profile picture:
【Mom, I've thought it over. I've decided to come study abroad where you are.】
