CHAPTER 1: The boy everyone wants.
JADEN
There were three things people at Westbridge University knew about me: I was rich, I was dating Samantha Carter, and I never cared what anyone thought.
The first two were true.
The third was a lie I'd spent years perfecting.
“Bro, are you even listening?” Marcus asked.
“Not even a little.”
He complained, and I grinned. I could turn almost any awkward moment into a joke. People liked being around someone who never seemed to have a problem, it seemed to also help them forget their own issues.
Or maybe they just liked believing I didn't.
The cafeteria buzzed with students. Someone called my name, and I raised a hand without looking back.
“Your ego needs its own student ID,” Marcus said.
“Good. It'll probably get better grades than you.”
My phone vibrated.
SAMANTHA: Where are you?
ME: Campus. Last time I checked, that's where students go.
SAMANTHA: Main steps, now.
I left Marcus and found Samantha waiting with two girls from the cheerleading squad. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves, and she looked stunning as always. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
“Finally,” she murmured.
“Miss me?”
“Unfortunately.”
One of her friends lifted a phone. “You two look good. Picture!”
Samantha immediately turned towards the camera, smiling brightly. I pulled her closer.
“Jaden, look at her properly,” the girl instructed.
“I am looking at her.”
The second picture came out perfectly. Samantha looked beautiful, and I looked like a guy with nothing to complain about. It was the sort of photo people would repost with heart emojis.
“Post the second one,” Samantha said. “The lighting's better.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“What? You don't like it?”
“I'm devastated. I'll try to recover.”
She nudged me, smiling again, and took my hand.
People watched us as we crossed campus. We knew how to be seen together: when to smile, when to touch, when to let everyone believe they were witnessing something special.
It wasn't that I didn't care about Samantha.
We had history, private jokes, and memories that belonged to us. She knew how I took my coffee and which songs I played when I drove at night.
But we'd become so good at being the perfect couple that I'd stopped asking whether we were still good at being us.
“Are you coming to dinner at my place on Friday?” she asked.
“Was I invited?”
“Jaden, my parents asked about you.”
“Tell them I'll be there.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”
The relief in her voice made the answer feel bigger than dinner. I noticed, but didn't ask why.
Near the student centre, she stopped.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah”
She hesitated. “Do you ever get tired of everything?”
The question caught me off guard. I could have told her I was exhausted by people thinking they knew me, or that some memories still hurt to touch.
Instead, I smiled. “Of being this handsome? Every day. It's a terrible burden.”
She sighed. “You're impossible.”
“Yet somehow, you persist.
“Sometimes I wonder why.”
“Excellent taste.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. The moment passed, and I told myself that was a good thing.
Not every question needed an answer.
By the time my last lecture ended, the sky was pale blue. I was heading to the car park when a message arrived from an unfamiliar number.
UNKNOWN: Do you still remember that night?
I stared at the screen. Campus noise seemed to fade.
There were plenty of nights I remembered: parties, arguments, mistakes. But there was one night I'd spent years trying not to think about—the night that ended a friendship I once believed would outlast everything.
I typed, WHO IS THIS?
No reply came.
I locked my phone and shoved it into my pocket. I wasn't going to let an anonymous message ruin my afternoon. I had a life people wanted, a girlfriend people envied, and a future that seemed already decided in my favour.
Whatever had happened that night belonged in the past.
At least, that's what I told myself.
My phone rang. Samantha.
“Hey, beautiful,” I answered.
“Are you on your way home? I was thinking we could go out tonight. Just us.”
“Sounds good.”
“Really? Last time I suggested it, you had plans with Marcus.”
“I have a demanding social life.”
“Jaden.”
“I'm kidding, Sam. Tonight is ours.”
She sounded relieved. We said goodbye, and I started the engine.
Neat haircut, relaxed expression. Golden-brown eyes people were always complimenting. I looked exactly like myself.
That was the problem. I'd spent so long making sure nobody saw anything else that I'd almost convinced myself there was nothing else to see.
I wouldn't let a stranger drag me back to a night I'd buried. I wouldn't think about the friendship that had ended years ago. And I certainly wouldn't admit I was afraid someone else might remember the truth differently.
The message stayed in the back of my mind.
Do you still remember that night?
I drove faster.
I had no idea how wrong I was.
