Chapter 3

A few days later, my phone buzzed with a text from Ethan.

"Huge grad party at my place Friday! Everyone's gonna be there. Got a surprise for you too. ;)"

A surprise. My stomach twisted.

Chloe, my best friend, looked over my shoulder. "You're not actually going, are you? After he lied about his scores?"

"I need to know," I said. "I need to see it."

Chloe sighed. "Fine, but I'm going with you. And if he tries anything, I'll break his other leg." She was joking. Mostly.

Friday night, the Anderson mansion was lit up like a movie set. Music thumped. Kids from our class were everywhere.

Ethan spotted me and Chloe immediately. His smile was blinding.

"Maya! Chloe! So glad you could make it!" He pulled me into a hug that felt rehearsed.

He led me to a table right near the makeshift stage in the backyard. "Best seats in thehouse."

Tiffany, Ethan's new girlfriend, all blonde hair and perfect teeth, waved from across the lawn. She looked like a princess. A smug one.

My phone vibrated in my purse. I didn't need to look.

The "surprise" wasn't for me.

An hour later, Ethan jumped onto the stage, microphone in hand.

"Hey everyone! Thanks for coming!"

The crowd cheered.

"So, I have some big news. And a special question for a special someone."

He looked right at Tiffany. She preened.

Then, his eyes found mine. A small, almost apologetic smile.

"First, I want to thank my amazing friend, Maya. She's been such a good sport about our original plan. We were gonna go to State together, you know? She was totally cool with supporting me."

He made it sound like it was my idea. My sacrifice.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Pitying looks. Scornful ones.

My face burned.

Ethan turned back to Tiffany. "Tiff, baby, you know I aced my SATs, right?"

Laughter.

"And we both got into Stanford!"

More cheers. He pulled out a velvet box.

"Tiffany Hayes, will you go to Stanford with me?"

It was a "promposal," but grander, more permanent.

She shrieked "Yes!" and ran into his arms. They kissed, a long, showy kiss.

My phone vibrated again.

"Pop-up: Tiffany insisted Maya be here. She needed to see you lose."

Another: "Remember that cheap chocolate bar he got you for your 16th? Said he was 'broke'? This party cost more than your mom's bakery makes in a year."

I did remember. A generic drugstore bar. I'd treasured it.

Chloe grabbed my hand. "Let's get out of here."

I felt numb. He hadn't just lied. He'd used me, publicly.