Chapter 2

"SLAP!"

A loud, stinging slap. My left cheek burned instantly.

"Jason, are you even a man? Just watching your own girlfriend being... You, why didn't you save me last night?" Chloe's voice trembled, her tears streaming down her face.

I pressed my tongue against my throbbing cheek, suppressing the rage churning in my chest. "Chloe, weren't you having a blast? I thought you were really enjoying yourself," I said, my voice cold. "Besides, we broke up. Do whatever you want. I have no right to interfere."

I turned to leave, but she grabbed my sleeve. Her attitude suddenly softened. "I don't agree to the breakup. You haven't tutored me for today's class yet, have you?"

I almost burst out laughing. Chloe, the girl who hadn't opened a textbook once in three years of college, was now using "tutoring" as an excuse to keep me around? I knew her too well – she was only sticking to me because of next week's midterms, and she needed my notes and tutoring to pass.

"Let go." I peeled her fingers off, not looking back.

Last night, at eleven, I was in my dorm, rushing to finish a paper when my phone buzzed. "Chloe" flashed on the screen, and my fingers froze. She'd changed her number after we broke up, and I'd deleted all her contacts.

"Jason... help... help me..." Chloe's slurred voice came through, background noise a chaotic mix of music and laughter. "Golden Horizon Hotel... they're forcing me to drink..."

My heart just *clenched*. Chloe and I had grown up together; I'd always looked out for her like a little sister. Even after all the times she'd messed up, my family did owe hers a debt of gratitude for their past help. After a tough internal debate, I decided this would be the last time. I grabbed my jacket and rushed out. Chloe loved to party, but her alcohol tolerance was terrible. When we were together, I never let her drink outside.

When I finally, breathlessly, knocked on room 1818, the sight before me chilled me to the bone. The door was ajar. Chloe, her clothes disheveled, was straddling Blake's lap – that trust fund kid whose family owned a chain of hotels. He was bringing a drink to her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glazed, but a smile played on her lips. She didn't look forced at all.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jason, the top student," Blake grinned, his arm tightening around Chloe's waist. "Looking for your ex-girlfriend? Too bad she prefers playing with me now."

Chloe turned, saw me, and her expression stiffened for a split second, but then she quickly smiled. "Jason? What are you doing here... Come have a drink with us..."

I stood there, feeling my blood turn to ice. So, the "cry for help" was just her drunken whim, or part of some twisted game she was playing with Blake. I'd rushed over like an idiot in the middle of the night, only to witness *this*.

"My apologies." I turned and left.

Behind me, I heard Chloe's cackles and Blake's mocking voice, "Poor guy's always poor. Can't even afford a hotel room, still trying to get a girl?"

Stepping out of the hotel, the night wind cut through me. I stood by the road, suddenly feeling utterly pathetic. Twenty-two years of friendship, of shared life, and in Chloe's eyes, it was nothing more than a transaction – me providing academic help in exchange for her company, and now she'd found a wealthier buyer.

"Jason! Wait!" Chloe chased after me.

I quickened my pace, but she still managed to block my path. "What do you even want?" I couldn't help but raise my voice. "Wasn't last night clear enough?"

Chloe bit her lower lip. "I was drunk... I don't remember anything..." Her eyes darted away. "Blake said he'd help me with my failing grades for the finals, so I..."

"So you exchanged your body for grades?" I scoffed. "What a noble transaction."

Her face flushed crimson. "How can you say that?! If you hadn't insisted on breaking up, I wouldn't have..."

"I insisted on breaking up?" I cut her off. "You were the one who said, 'Jason, we're not from the same world. You can't give me what I want.' Remember?"

That was three months ago, on Chloe's twentieth birthday. I'd worked three jobs, saved up to buy her a fancy necklace, while her friends showered her with designer bags and perfumes. That night, in front of everyone, she threw the necklace back at me. "Jason, let's break up. You can't even afford a decent birthday dinner. We're not from the same world." I remember standing at the restaurant entrance, clutching that "cheap" necklace, watching her and her friends drive off in Blake's Porsche.

"I was just... upset at the time," Chloe now explained, reaching for my arm, but I pulled away. "I know you're the best to me, Jason. See? I came back for you."

Watching the calculation in Chloe's eyes, impossible to hide, I suddenly realized I'd never truly known this person. For over two decades, I might have been in love with nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion.

"Chloe," I took a deep breath. "We're done. Truly done. I won't write your papers anymore, I won't cheat on tests for you, and I certainly won't continue to be your on-call backup."

Her expression instantly twisted, the sweet facade crumbling to reveal something ugly underneath. "Who do you think you are? A poor student with nothing but good grades! I'm giving you face by even looking your way!"

"Then please take that 'face' back," I said calmly. "I don't need it."

As I turned to leave, I heard her scream hysterically behind me, "You'll regret this, Jason! Without me, you're nothing!"

My phone vibrated. It was a message from my advisor: "Jason, your MIT exchange application has been approved. Congratulations."

I stopped, and then I smiled. The world, it turned out, was so much bigger than I'd ever imagined. And my worth? It never needed Chloe's approval to be proven.