Chapter 2

For the next two months, Sophie Young and I were basically inseparable—going to class together, grabbing meals at the cafeteria, hitting up the library, and heading back to the dorm side by side. I kept casually mentioning to our classmates that my parents were really traditional. They expected me to move back home after I graduated, so getting into a relationship during college wasn't an option for me.

Jessica hardly ever spent the night in the dorm and was always skipping classes. She kept trying to get us to sign her in, but after I shot her down a few times, she ended up bribing Emily Carter with an Armani lipstick to fake her attendance instead.

Then, out of nowhere, Jessica started sleeping in the dorm again and actually showed up to class every day. That set off alarm bells for me, so I asked for a week off. I said my mom needed surgery.

In my previous life, my mom had a minor surgery around this time too, but my family kept it from me to keep me from worrying. This time, I wasn't about to stick around to get tangled in Michael's mess at school. I made sure to go home and stay with my mom.

Three days after I got home, Sophie called me out of the blue.

"Hannah, you gotta get back here, quick! Some guy showed up at school, going around asking about you. He's claiming to be your husband," she blurted, sounding totally freaked out.

My heart skipped a beat. So it began.

"Husband? I don't even have a boyfriend. I've been with you 24/7 these past months. If I were seeing someone, you'd know," I shot back.

"I know that, but he's trashing your name all over campus. Saying you cheated on him, calling you every name in the book. It's ugly, Hannah," Sophie said, her voice full of worry.

Hearing how much she cared, I felt a little warmth inside.

You get assigned roommates in college, but a real friend you can trust—that's the real prize.

"Are you sure he's actually looking for me? There are thousands of students here. Could just be someone with the same name," I said, trying to play it cool.

"Good point. Let me check the campus confession page. If I can get the full name he's using, maybe we can clear this up for you," she said.

After hanging up, I checked out the campus confession page myself. The whole page was blowing up over this drama.

A post read: [There's a heartbreaker at our school! Poor guy got cheated on and taken for his money.]

It listed everything—my year, major, class, even my full name. It was clearly written by a guy, and he was so angry on Michael's behalf that it felt personal. Everyone was piling on, calling me every name under the sun.

[What a slut—acting innocent while sleeping around.]

[She's got married and denied that? What kind of person does that?]

[Exactly. No matter how sweet she acts, she's still trash.]

[Be wary of anyone who sees you as a paycheck. Look out for yourself.]

But some girls couldn't stand it and started defending me in the replies.

[This guy hasn't shown a single shred of proof, and you all just believe him? Seriously?]

[Use your brains, people. If you can't think for yourselves, just zip it.]

[Anyone can make up wild stories. I could say Timothée Chalamet is my husband. Doesn't make it true.]

But someone jumped in to argue right away.

[Who says there's no proof? I saw their marriage license with my own eyes.]

[There's a marriage license? Then it must be real.]

[This girl is evil and dumb as a rock. A total gold digger who actually married the guy.]

[Marriage was her plan all along. She's pushing him to the edge so she can take everything when he breaks.]

[Holy crap!]

[The comment above nailed it.]

[Black widow alert.]

Then someone posted the marriage certificate in the comments.

[I messaged the guy who got cheated on. Here's their marriage license. This is solid proof.]

Someone instantly recognized it. [Isn't that the girl from Commerce Hall? Pretty sure I've seen her before.]

[Scandal alert. The gold digger's been exposed. Come watch the show!]

Soon, our classmates started piling on in the comments too.

[Wait, the legendary slut is actually our class beauty?]

[No way, she's already married?]

[Didn't she always say she wouldn't date anyone in college?]

[Skipped dating and went straight to marriage, I guess.]

[Bro, you interested in her too? If you've got money, she'll probably marry you on the spot.]

[No thanks. Who wants a marriage scammer?]

Finally, I spotted Sophie's comment buried in the chaos: [Morons! The name on the marriage license isn't even Hannah. Can't you even read?]

But her comment was instantly drowned out by the flood of heated replies.

Not that it mattered. The truth was never what they cared about. Calling a girl a slut was enough to make them feel right.