Chapter 2: Breaking Up and Breaking Free

In the car, I texted Caleb: [Let’s break up.]

My thumb hovered for a second, then I hit send. The relief and ache hit at the same time.

Then, I blocked him everywhere—Instagram, Snapchat, even Venmo. Each block felt like tossing another bad memory in the trash.

The adrenaline crashed, leaving me slumped against the window as streetlights blurred past.

Derek glanced over, worried. "What’s wrong? Haven’t you two always been good together?"

I swallowed my urge to cry and gave a bitter smile. "It’s nothing, I just suddenly don’t like him anymore."

"Why? Just because of this game?"

I nodded. "Yeah, just because of this game."

Derek was stunned, searching my face. "Can you really let go? Didn’t you chase him for two years? You can just let go like that?"

My nails dug into my palm. The streetlights outside slid by like a highlight reel of all the times I’d made excuses for Caleb.

Yeah, that’s Caleb. The guy I spent two years chasing just to end up here.

He’s the genius of Maple Heights University’s math department, a campus heartthrob whose candid photos rack up a hundred thousand likes. The kind of guy whose name is whispered in every Starbucks line, whose hoodie every girl wants to borrow. Son of the Turner Group CEO—his last name carries real weight in this town.

But when it came to romance, he was always polite, restrained, the good guy. I thought that made him safe. Maybe it just made him distant.

Just last night was the first time we slept together. I remembered his scratchy dorm sheets, the taste of his skin, the way he let me touch his abs, his breath catching, his voice rough and boyish as he asked, "Natalie, I want you. Is that okay?"

I tried to play it cool. "You’ve already taken your clothes off, don’t ask, just do it."

My tears slipped down, silent and hot. I wiped them away before Derek could see. I hated myself for caring this much.

So, was it because the main girl got a love letter that he lost his first time with me out of spite? Just to make her jealous? Was I just practice?

The story played in my head, fueled by all those imaginary comments. I was the jealous side girl in a TikTok campus romance.

Aubrey was the main girl. She saved Caleb’s dad—performed CPR, called 911. That story was campus legend. Caleb’s dad asked him to look after her, and he did. How could I compete with that?

Every time I made a scene, Caleb just cherished Aubrey more. The more desperate I got, the further he pulled away.

After graduation, I got worse. I imagined myself waiting outside his office in a short skirt, trying to seduce him. But I was caught by security, humiliated. He and Aubrey saw it—he covered her eyes, told her not to look. Even my lowest moment was about their story, not mine.

That night, I tried to end it all. My parents, crushed by the shame, died in a car accident. All because of one boy.

I never thought I’d fall this far for Caleb. It wasn’t love. It was obsession, and I hated what I’d become.

This isn’t me. I don’t want to ruin my life for him. I barely love him now—it’s better to let go early. Before he can dump me, I’ll be the one to walk away.

Of course, Derek and I didn’t actually go to a hotel. Instead, we drove around for a while, windows down, radio low—just two cousins escaping for a bit.

But to play by the dare rules, Derek’s Photoshop skills were legendary—he even added a fake Yelp review: “Clean sheets, 2/5 stars, would not recommend for existential crises.” We sent the screenshot to the group and headed back to the dorm.

The fluorescent light flickered overhead, and the faint smell of popcorn mixed with lavender Febreze as I pushed open the door.

My roommate’s eyes went wide. "What happened, Natalie? Why is your makeup all messed up?"

I wiped under my eyes, seeing black streaks. In the mirror, I looked like a raccoon that lost a fight.

I was raised a tomboy in rural Ohio—never learned makeup. But tonight, to impress Caleb, I’d let my roommate curl my hair and loan me her black dress.

For a moment before the party, I almost believed I could be pretty.

Now? Mascara smeared, lipstick faded. A total mess.

"It’s nothing, just broke up."

My voice broke at the end. My roommate’s eyes softened. "No matter the reason, you’re amazing. If he broke up with you, it’s his loss."

She tossed me a makeup wipe and gave me a quick hug. "You hungry? I’m heading to the dining hall, want anything?"

I nodded, managing a tiny smile. Sometimes, all you need is someone willing to fetch you curly fries when your world’s falling apart.

After she left, I opened my Amazon cart and started deleting all the sex toys I’d ordered last night—lingerie, fuzzy handcuffs, things I barely understood. Each click a tiny funeral for a future that wasn’t happening.

Last night was my first time. I’d wanted to try everything with Caleb. I even Snapchatted him: "Which toy do you want to use with me? Bunny tail, handcuffs, body chain—pick your fave."

His ears turned red. "Don’t rush. If you like it, we’ll try them one by one."

He sent back a shy selfie, looking embarrassed and proud. For a moment, it felt real.

Now, there’s no need to try anymore. I deleted the chat, the photos, everything. Letting go hurt, but it was cleaner this way.

My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I ignored it. It rang again.

I sighed and picked up, bracing myself.

"Natalie, where are you?"

His voice cracked through the speaker, raw and urgent: “Natalie, please—just tell me where you are. I need to see you.”

It was Caleb. Even now, the sound of his voice made my resolve wobble. I wiped my tears and spoke coldly: "Didn’t you see the hotel check-in record in the group?"

He was breathless, running. "Natalie, don’t do anything impulsive, I’m coming to find you."

I sneered: "Why are you coming? To bring me condoms?"

If he wanted to save me, he was too late. Tonight, I was finally saving myself.