Chapter 2

I wiped away my tears, tossed the scraps into the trash, and walked back to our private room without looking back.

Five minutes later, Xander and Summer pushed through the door one after the other.

Xander's expression was normal as he walked straight over to sit beside me, handing me a glass of water.

"Have some water. Your voice sounded a bit hoarse from singing earlier."

I didn't take it. My eyes were fixed on the faint red mark at the corner of his mouth.

He noticed my gaze and casually wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

"What's wrong? Is there something on my face?"

He raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying a hint of indulgent helplessness.

I felt nauseous.

Before I could speak, a delicate cry suddenly came from the other end of the room.

"Oh no!"

Summer had fallen onto the sofa by the karaoke machine, her eyes rimmed with red.

"I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much..."

She clutched her ankle, but her gaze traveled over the crowd to land on Xander.

Several guys immediately rushed over with concern.

But Summer bit her lower lip and shook her head pitifully: "You don't need to trouble yourselves. I'll... I'll just take a cab home."

Xander set down the water glass, his brow furrowing slightly.

He stood up and turned to look at me.

"Mia, it's not safe for Summer to take a cab alone. Let me take her home."

I looked up at this face I'd loved for three years.

"She just twisted her ankle, not broken her leg. Can't the classmate take her?"

A flash of impatience crossed his eyes, quickly suppressed. He reached out to ruffle my hair.

"Come on, we're all classmates. It's just helping each other out."

"Don't be so sensitive. Tomorrow I'll go with you to submit your applications, and I'll grab that Black Forest cake you love from my house, okay?"

I turned my head away, avoiding his hand.

This was the first time in three years I'd refused his touch.

Xander's hand froze in mid-air.

"Xander, if Mia isn't happy about it, forget it. I can manage on my own..."

Summer grabbed the hem of his shirt, her voice choked with tears.

Xander's expression darkened.

Without looking at me again, he gripped Summer's arm and helped her up.

"Let's go. I'll take you."

He didn't give me a single extra word of explanation before walking out of the room supporting Summer.

The moment the door closed, I heard classmates whispering: "Xander is way too good to Summer. I'm surprised Mia isn't even mad?"

When the party ended, it was already ten at night. I walked the streets alone.

Passing by the corner convenience store that Xander and I used to frequent, my feet seemed nailed to the ground.

Through the glass, I saw a young couple in school uniforms huddled together working on homework.

The boy draped his jacket over the girl's shoulders, saying something in a low voice.

I stood in the wind, my nails digging deep into the soft flesh of my palms.

The sharp pain came, and my eyes instantly rimmed red.

But I bit my lip hard, refusing to let the tears fall.

Back home, I turned on my computer by the light of the streetlamp streaming through the window.

The screen lit up. In the center of the desktop was a folder named "MIT Sprint."

It contained scanned copies of every handwritten note Xander had made for me over these three years.

My hand gripped the mouse, the cursor hovering over that folder for a full thirty seconds.

Then I permanently deleted it.

Just then, my phone on the desk suddenly lit up.

It was a shopping link from Xander---a white floral dress.

Immediately, a second message popped up.

"Wear this dress tomorrow when we submit applications. I just bought it, it'll look really good on you."

I stared at the product photo. This dress looked way too familiar.

Last week, Summer had posted on Ins about receiving an early birthday gift---the exact same style.

I pulled at the corner of my mouth in an extremely short, cold laugh.

"I don't want this so-called meeting at the summit anymore."