Chapter 1
During the debate, Finley led Alison to tear open my old scar right in front of everyone, so that she could win.
"Bonnie, after being raped and once losing heart, do you really have the right to talk about strength here?" Alison spat.
Later, at the victory party, everyone was gathered around, gossiping.
The guy who once swore he'd protect me forever was grinning as he brought up my sore spot for everyone to hear.
"When she was thirteen, the landlord got drunk, unlocked the door, and barged right in. And, well, you can guess the rest," he said.
Some people started snickering, and Finley just shrugged off with a laugh. "Drop it. She's petty. If she finds out, she'll definitely make a scene."
I stood quietly outside the door, not pushing it open.
Finley always saw me as damaged goods, filthy and unwanted by anyone except him.
But he never knew I'd already signed up for the exchange program to Graviland.
In seven days, I'd be gone from his world for good.
*****
The debate was in full swing, with Finley and me leading our respective teams.
Just when victory was within our reach, Alison, the fourth speaker for the opposing team, stood up.
She said, "You claim that people who've gone through tough times end up stronger inside."
"So Bonnie, mind if I ask you something?" Alison said, fixing her eyes on me.
She gave me a smile that looked sweet but cut deep, innocent on the surface, but vicious underneath.
"Back when you were little, some...bad stuff happened, right? Even now, you still freak out around guys. Is this your idea of strength being shattered by your past?" Alison spat out.
The whole debate club froze, dead silent.
My mind went completely blank, and I just stood there, frozen.
That was the nightmare I'd buried the deepest, and there was only one person in the room who knew about it.
And that person was Finley.
I snapped my eyes toward him.
Finley, who'd been lounging lazily, suddenly went stiff.
When our eyes met, there was a guilty flash of panic in his eyes. He almost flinched before quickly looking away.
One student said, "No way..."
The second student was stunned. "Wait, did that really happen to Bonnie?"
Another student glanced at me with disdain. "Oh God, that's just so disgusting."
The whispers from the crowd hit me like a tidal wave.
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
A suffocating feeling gripped my throat, my hands and feet went numb and icy, and my stomach twisted in knots.
The host's voice faded into the background, and I shoved the table aside, stumbling out while everyone just stared, wide-eyed and speechless.
Crouched in the freezing corner of the restroom, I bit down hard on my arm, leaving one bloody mark after another.
Outside, footsteps and laughter drifted in.
One student said, "What was up with Bonnie just now? She just bolted. So irresponsible, right?"
Another one chimed in, "Seriously, even if she got hit where it hurt, she couldn't just ditch the whole team and let everyone down like that..."
The third voice came through. "But honestly, Alison's move was brutal, but it totally turned the tables. Her team still came out on top."
The first student said, "Finley is really treating Alison like a treasure. He practically coached her from zero, right? And did you catch the way he was looking at her when they won? The look in his eyes... well, you know exactly what I'm talking about."
Their footsteps faded away.
My hands shaking, I pulled out my phone, and the screen lit up.
The debate club group chat was blowing up.
In the video, Finley was the center of attention, with everyone crowding around him while he held the trophy high.
Alison stood right at his side, her smile radiant and sweet.
Someone from the crowd called out, "Finley, give her a big hug. Lift our hero!"
Finley looked down at Alison, her cheeks turning red as she pouted and gave a playful little stomp.
Then, with everyone erupting in laughter and cheers, Finley grinned, swept Alison up by the waist, and spun her around in a big circle.
I shut my eyes tight. I couldn't hold back anymore. Tears spilled down my cheeks nonstop.
My hands shaking, I tapped open the email my professor sent me a few days ago.
The one-year spot at the Pristin Academy of Arts was ridiculously hard to get and super competitive.
But my professor said I was the one she believed in most.
What did I even tell her back then?
"Thank you, professor, but there's someone here I just can't let go of," I'd replied.
What a joke.
I opened the email with trembling hands and found the reply box.
My finger hovered over the screen for a moment, then, with a sudden surge of resolve, I typed my answer.
[Thank you for your recommendation, professor. I truly value this opportunity and would like to confirm my participation.]
My phone lit up with a text from Finley. [7 PM, same place for the victory party. See you there.]
There was no apology, no explanation.
He didn't mention a word about how Alison found out my secret.
I honestly didn't want to go at all.
But after wrestling with it for way too long, I finally just typed back, [Okay.]
I owed it to all these years, to us, to give things a little dignity and real closure.
It was time to settle it face-to-face and walk away for good.
When I got to the private room at the restaurant, the place was already buzzing with noise.
Even through the door, I could hear all the laughter and hype coming from inside.
"Honestly, Alison totally killed it! That last move was a game-changer. She flipped the whole thing around!" someone shouted.
"Yeah, Finley, it looks like your golden duo with Bonnie is about to be history. Alison's the one who's really in sync with you now," another person chimed in.
My hand paused on the doorknob.
Then I heard Alison's soft, shy voice.
"Honestly, I just lucked out today. If Finley hadn't brought it up to me before, I never would've hit Bonnie right where it hurts," she said.
She paused, lowering her voice just enough for everyone at the table to catch it.
"Finley, is that true? Did Bonnie go through something like that?" Alison asked, keeping her voice low.
The room went dead silent.
Everyone's eyes locked onto Finley.
My hand froze on the doorknob.
Through the crack in the door, I saw Finley lounging back in his chair, swirling his drink.
He went silent for a few seconds, like he was hesitating.
Then, he looked around the room, checking to see if I'd shown up.
"Yeah, it's true," he nodded.
"When she was thirteen, the landlord got drunk, unlocked the door, and barged right in. And, well, you can guess the rest," he said.
At that exact moment, I could feel something deep inside me break—clean through, and for good.
That rain-soaked night, the landlord's sickening smile, the torn nightgown, were the nightmare I'd never found a way out of.
And it had just become the cheap table talk for Finley, served up for everyone to pick apart and gawk at, like I was nothing but gossip fuel.
"No way, for real? That actually explains why Bonnie's always so cold and distant. She never really talks to anyone," someone gossiped.
"Man, that's pretty messed up. That kind of thing must leave you with some serious baggage. Still, gotta admit, she's pretty tough," another voice chimed in.
"Tough? Please, if you ask me, it's more like, well, you know what she went through," a guy snickered, making the joke just dirty enough to get a few snickers.
His nasty comment drew a few stifled laughs around the table.
Finley laughed it off, jokingly told him to cut it out, but it sounded more like playing along than actually stopping it.
"Drop it. She's petty. If she finds out, she'll definitely make a scene," Finley said, sounding almost amused.
Inside, people started egging them on, shouting for them to do an arm-in-arm toast together.
Alison, cheeks blazing red, sidled up to him with a playful little protest. Finley just smiled, making no effort to pull away.
I stood outside the door, feeling utterly frozen, just like a pathetic clown alone in the dark.
Any last scrap of hope I'd held onto was snuffed out, just like that.
Dignity? He was not even worth that.
I slipped my hand off the doorknob, backed away one step at a time, and walked out without looking back.
The hallway was swallowed in shadows, and the cold light from my phone reflected off my ghostly pale face.
Tapping open his chat, I typed out each word, slow and deliberate. [Finley, let's break up.]
I hit send and blocked him.