When I dumped Chase, he asked me why. "Because you never say 'no' to the girls chasing you." He looked at me in disbelief. "That’s it?" I nodded. "That’s it." 1 Chase was born with God-tier genetics. Back in kindergarten, whenever we played house, he was the groom. And there were always a dozen girls fighting to be his bride. In high school, even the baggy gym uniforms and the mandatory short haircuts couldn't hide it. If anything, the lack of styling just proved his face was flawless. There are about 180 school days in a year. For 180 days, his locker was stuffed with love notes. The other 185 days were quiet only because school was out. If he so much as whispered "I'm thirsty" on the football field, a dozen bottles of Gatorade and water would magically appear in front of him. Even after he had a girlfriend—me—he wasn't technically single anymore, but the girls kept throwing themselves at him. And Chase? He never rejected them. Free breakfast, homemade cookies, gifts—he took it all. If a girl asked for his Snap or number, he gave it. At first, I thought he was just being a gentleman. You know, trying not to embarrass them publicly. Until I realized he was interacting with them on Instagram, replying to their stories. He’d do all the "little favors" they whined about—carrying their bags, opening water bottles, even tying their shoes. It felt like I was in a polyamorous relationship without my consent. Like I was sharing a boyfriend. I thought maybe he just didn't get it. I told him those were things you only do for your girlfriend. And what did Chase say? "It’s just a kind gesture." "I was just helping out, it’s not a big deal." Then he gaslit me: "June, don't be so cold. Why do you have to be so toxic like everyone else?" Was I the toxic one? I didn't know the answer then. Maybe I wasn't wrong, and Chase wasn't wrong. Maybe we just weren't reading the same book. So, the day after graduation, I asked to break up. 2 Chase froze. A flicker of disbelief crossed his eyes. "You're dumping me over that?" "Yes," I answered firmly. Chase stared at me for three solid seconds before letting out a cocky laugh. "Babe, if you're jealous, just say you're jealous. Don't joke about breaking up." I understood why he didn't believe me. Everyone thought I must have saved a country in my past life to grow up next door to Chase Sterling. And that I’d won the Powerball when we finally got together. I remember the day it happened. We were clearing out a mountain of love letters from his locker. He looked at me with genuine curiosity and asked: "So many people are chasing me. What about you?" "June, do you want to confess your feelings to me, too?" Chase was confident. He didn't ask if I liked him. He asked if I wanted the honor of confessing. A lot of girls liked him. I was one of them. But back then, I hadn't planned on confessing. Yet, when he asked, I looked at his face and, like I was possessed, I nodded. Chase smiled, his eyes crinkling in that way that made stars explode in my stomach. Dazzling. Blinding. "Cool. I guess I'll marry you someday. My mom likes you anyway." I looked like a good girl, soft-spoken and well-behaved. Adults loved me. Chase's mom, Mrs. Sterling, practically considered me a daughter. Everyone said I was the luckiest girl alive. So, nobody believed I was serious about the breakup. They thought I was throwing a tantrum, playing hard to get. Chase's best friend leaned in, grinning. "Yo, Chase, since the wifey is acting up, why don't you send me the contact for that hottie you added yesterday?" Hearing that, Chase was even more convinced I was just jealous. He pulled out his phone and AirDropped the contact to his buddy, showing me the screen as he did it. "Happy now?" I didn't answer his question. instead, I asked, "What's her name?" "Ivy," Chase said without thinking. "Ivy Summers." I smiled. "And that is exactly why we're breaking up." The air went still. After a long pause, Chase scoffed, a sneer curling his lip. "Fine. Break up." "June, don't you come crawling back crying." 3 News of our breakup hit the group chats like a bomb. Girls were practically lining up to shoot their shot, hoping to be the rebound. My phone blew up too. Some asking for tea, some warning me not to be a crazy ex, some even asking if I was selling any of Chase’s stuff. It was so ridiculous I didn't reply to a single DM. I didn't expect someone to actually show up at my gated community. I didn't see Chase, but I ran right into her. She was gorgeous. Pale skin, stunning face, legs that went on for days. She was wearing a tiny crop top and skirt combo that screamed "I'm the main character." "Hey," she called out. "I'm Ivy. Can I get your WeChat or number?" Ivy was an art student. I’d only heard her name, never seen her in person. "Sorry, I don't add strangers." Ivy clicked her tongue impatiently. "Then take me inside to find Chase." I ignored her completely. I walked through the security gate without looking back, leaving her shouting behind me. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher messaged us to come to school to finalize our college lists. Chase sat right in front of me. As soon as the teacher stepped out, his desk was swarmed. "Chase, which city are you going to?" "Chase, what school did you pick?" "Chase, I'll go wherever you go. Be my boyfriend?" Three or four girls were practically sitting on his lap. He spun his pen, looking bored. "NYU. Stern School of Business." Suddenly, a hand reached over and snatched the form off my desk. "Oh wow, June. Copying Chase's application? How desperate." Ivy was there. She smirked. " saying you want to break up, but your actions scream 'clinger.' You really are a piece of work." I snatched my paper back. "This has been my dream school since freshman year. It fits my scores perfectly." "Why shouldn't I apply?" Chase and I matching colleges wasn't about romance. Our fathers were in the same industry. The path our parents paved for us was identical. Real life isn't a Netflix drama. We don't have to flee to opposite ends of the country just because we broke up. I’m a city girl. I like the East Coast pace. I wasn't going to change my future for a boy. Ivy didn't buy it. "Excuses. There are tons of good schools. You just can't let go. You want to stay close so you can win him back." I looked at Chase. He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, watching Ivy berate me with a lazy expression. It gave me a flashback to two years ago. We had just started dating. A girl who was obsessed with him stormed into our classroom and grabbed me by the collar. "June, did you sleep with him?!" she screamed. "Did you trap him into dating you?!" The malice was suffocating. I was shaking with rage. Chase was sitting in the back row, head resting on his arms, watching the scene like it was a show. Back then, I didn't see the red flag. I thought, She’s crazy, he shouldn't get involved with a psycho. My friend Harper was the one who jumped in and pulled the girl off me. When it was all over, Chase finally walked up, patted my head, and said, "Don't be mad. She's just jealous of you." "Let's just be happy. Don't give her a chance." I finally realized the truth. Chase might have loved me, but he loved the drama more. He loved watching girls fight over him. He enjoyed it then, and he was enjoying it now. I snapped back to reality and ignored Ivy. instead, I looked at Chase. "We broke up. Please change your application." If boundaries needed to be drawn, I wasn't going to be the one derailing my life. 4 Ivy reacted first, eyes lighting up. "Chase! You can switch to USC! We can be in LA together..." Chase acted like he didn't hear her. He grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. "June, nobody waits forever." "You're just emotional right now. You're going to regret this." His arrogance was astounding. He was convinced I wouldn't actually leave. Or that if I did, I’d realize nobody compared to him and come running back. Ivy bit her lip, jealous of the attention. "I think in a relationship, you have to accept a person's flaws," she interjected, pivoting to lecture me. "June, you like Chase for his face, so you have to accept the attention that comes with it." "Instead of being insecure and jealous, maybe work on yourself?" The crowd around us started nodding. "Yeah, that's the price of dating a 10." "She's so insecure. Acting like he cheated or something." "Ivy's right. If you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen." The loudest voices were strangers—Ivy’s friends, no doubt. She played the reasonable peacekeeper; they played the attack dogs. I shook Chase's hand off. I pulled out my phone and dropped a video into the class group chat. The footage was shaky. It was in a dimly lit club booth. Chase stood up, pulling a girl in a waitress uniform into his arms. "She's my girl. I'll drink for her." He downed three shots, then walked out with his arm around her. The camera zoomed in on the girl in his arms. Ivy. Looking like a damsel in distress. Chase frowned, looking annoyed. "She was being harassed. I said that to save her. What's the problem?" "I was doing a good deed. Helping a classmate. Is that a crime now?" Ivy jumped in immediately. "If Chase hadn't been there, who knows what would have happened to me that night..." "That was the first time we hung out privately. I wanted to repay him for saving me, so I asked for his number." "June, you using this video to shame us? Your mind is so twisted!" This happened right before finals. Ivy was an art student, already accepted, so she was working at a club. After Chase played hero, he came home with alcohol poisoning and severe stomach pain. His parents were out of town. I took him to the ER. I sat with him all night while he got an IV. I brought him porridge for a week. And what did I get? Chase’s gaslighting and Ivy’s accusations. I could have screamed. I could have listed everything I did for him. But suddenly, I just felt... bored. We weren't on the same path anymore. There was no point in arguing. "Chase." I looked at him and smiled, feeling a weight lift off my chest. "We broke up." "Who you hang out with, what you do, whether it's right or wrong... it has nothing to do with me anymore."
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