Chapter 3
I ignored Chloe's rant in the group chat.
I took my time typing out a reply.
I sent: [Can't take it back, already sent. Why would I? I did what's right. Chloe, I've asked Mr. Warren to have the clinic or your tutor check on you. You're alone; what if you faint? We're classmates; I can't just watch.]
My words were full of humanitarian concern.
I almost moved myself with my own words.
In the group chat, Chloe totally freaked out.
Chloe: [I don't need you meddling. I'm fine, seriously. I'm just a bit tired, okay? Why do you have to blow things up like this?]
Jessica: [Weren't you saying you couldn't see a thing? Funny how you're suddenly able to type out whole paragraphs. Looks like you're getting better; guess we're witnessing a medical miracle here.]
After I sent my reply, the group chat went dead silent again.
A few seconds later, my phone rang.
It was a voice call from Chloe.
I didn't pick up. I declined the call right away.
I started typing back.
I sent: [Sorry, I'm heading to bed. Got an early morning tomorrow. Whatever it is, let's talk then.]
Chloe: [Answer your phone.]
Jessica: [We'll talk tomorrow. Staying up late is bad for your health, especially for someone who is sick. Get some rest.]
Right after sending that, I put my phone on airplane mode.
Finally, some peace and quiet.
I chucked my phone to the side and crashed into bed.
I was pretty sure Chloe was not getting any sleep tonight.
She could either fess up and admit she lied to her classmates to dodge responsibility. If Gary got wind of it, she would be facing disciplinary action for sure.
Or she'd have to drag herself to the school clinic at night and somehow convince a doctor to write a note saying she had a splitting headache and couldn't see. Pulling that off would be about as likely as proving she was an alien.
Either way, she was screwed.
The next morning, I was up at seven on the dot.
As soon as I turned off airplane mode, a flood of messages and missed calls popped up.
There were dozens of them, all from Chloe, Eric, and Sophia.
I didn't even bother to check.
I took my time grabbing breakfast at the cafeteria, then headed over to the library.
At 8:30, my phone rang.
It was an unknown number.
I picked up.
The man said, "Hi, is this Jessica? I'm Howard Lewis, your tutor."
"Hi, Mr. Lewis," I replied, keeping my tone calm.
"I got a message from Mr. Warren saying Chloe from your group is seriously ill. I'm right outside her dorm, but she won't open the door. Do you know where she might be?" Howard said, sounding a bit anxious.
Where else could she be? She was probably too guilty to show her face.
I said, "I'm not sure, Mr. Lewis. I messaged her last night to tell her to get some rest, but she never replied."
Howard said, "Alright, I'll try reaching out again. Don't worry too much, okay?"
After hanging up, I couldn't help but let a smirk spread across my face.
The real show was just getting started.
About half an hour later, Chloe, who had been MIA all night, finally showed up in the group chat.
She posted a photo.
It was a medical record from the school clinic. The diagnosis, scrawled in messy handwriting. It read: [Acute gastroenteritis.]
Chloe: [Everyone, I was up all night with diarrhea and didn't have time to check my phone. Just saw the messages this morning, and Mr. Lewis came by, too. I've already told him it was just food poisoning, nothing major. Sorry for worrying you all.]
Acute gastroenteritis? I barely held back a laugh as I stared at the diagnosis.
Last night in her email, Chloe was all about splitting headaches, blurry vision, and chills, none of which had the slightest thing to do with her digestive system.
Wow, her symptoms did a complete 180 overnight.
Eric was the first to chime in.
Eric: [Seriously, Chloe, you gave us all a heart attack. Just get some rest, okay?]
Sophia dropped a relieved emoji in the chat.
Chloe kept sending: [I was lying in bed last night, thinking I can't keep holding everyone back. So I asked a top student from another department to double-check everything. I'll send it to the group in a bit. It's spot-on, so you guys can relax.]
She made it sound like she was some kind of martyr, like she was sacrificing herself for us by working through her illness.
She even roped in a friend to help?
So she was basically admitting that she couldn't handle it herself, but still refused to give us any credit.
I waited five minutes.
Chloe dropped an Excel file named Final Checked Data into the group chat.
Chloe: [Jessica, I've sent you the data. I'm really sorry for all the trouble I caused.]
Her tone was back to that usual sweet and sensible self.
It was like she wasn't the one going off in the group chat just yesterday.
I didn't reply.
I downloaded the file she sent and opened it.
The spreadsheet was crammed with numbers; honestly, it looked pretty overwhelming.
I didn't use it right away.
I opened my original spreadsheet next to her final checked version and used the simplest comparison tool.
A second later, the results were in.
The two spreadsheets were identical.
Not a single number, not even a punctuation mark, had been changed.
That whole thing about her top student friend, and thinking it over in bed, was a load of crap.
She literally just renamed the original file and sent it right back, untouched.
She was banking on us not bothering to double-check.
She figured we would feel guilty enough to just take the fall for her and deal with this mess ourselves.
Seeing the 100% match pop up on my screen, I grabbed my phone and shot a message to the group chat.
Jessica: [Looks good. Thanks for handling it.]
Chloe: [Of course, just doing my part.]
She shot back instantly.
I grinned and started typing.
Jessica: [Funny thing is, this final version is a perfect match with the original data you sent me. Not even a single decimal moved. Your genius friend really has their own style, huh?]