Chapter 4
Trees and buildings blurred past the windows as I sat on the bus for hours before finally reaching the art boot camp in Philadelphia.
This year’s program was packed with art students crammed together in sweltering conditions. Maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, but I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.
My social media feed was flooded with posts from Bessie–the four of them had gone to see a movie, then hit up my usual restaurant afterward. She’d checked in at every single location, positioning herself right in the center of their group with a pose eerily similar to my pinned post. I stared at the screen for a moment, then deleted my pinned photo that matched hers.
My phone immediately chimed with a message–someone had sent me a candid side profile shot of me at the boot
camp.
“?” I replied.
They sent back a smiley face: “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”
I had zero memory of who this could be. After scrolling through their photos and comparing features, something
clicked.
“Are you… the faker?”
“…” They sent a voice message, sounding exasperated. “I wasn’t the one being fake…”
Right. That was me. During a game in our old neighborhood, whoever got picked had to play bride and groom. I was too embarrassed and threw a tantrum, shoving him into a sandbox where he scraped up his knees and palms. I’d been terrified, but those three guys still covered for me, and the actual victim got called “faker” for years
I felt awkward. “Sorry about that whole childhood thing…“*
After a long pause typing, he sent back a lengthy message:
“I was so jealous of your friendship with those three back then. Too bad… I tried so hard to fit in but never could. I still remember how much Alexander’s punch hurt when it connected with my face. Whatever, not worth bringing up–I get why they didn’t like me.”
He added a disappointed emoji, which made it even more uncomfortable.
All I could manage was: “Wasn’t really worth being jealous of…”
In the boot camp studio, everyone was treated equally–we were all there to learn, and if it was hot, we just had to
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Dumped by My Three Crushes for a Gold Digger, Now Fi Dating Thest kival
Chapter 4
deal with it. Easels pressed against easels, bodies packed together until I felt dizzy from the heat.
Suddenly someone thrust a plastic fan in front of me. In this kind of crowded space, nothing worked better than the simplest solution. I blinked in surprise as he winked at me.
“No need to throw a tantrum this time–it’s yours to keep, no returns necessary.”
Frederick Laurent.
In this stifling, oppressive studio that felt absolutely hopeless, recognizing a childhood playmate was like a ray of
sunshine.
He smiled at me, his dimples catching the light. “Isabella, what are the odds?”
I’d thought boot camp would be miserable, but having Frederick around changed everything.
During our outdoor sketching session, I could handle my fifteen–pound art bag, but the long trek would’ve worn anyone down–especially when it started raining. Most people hadn’t brought umbrellas and were scrambling for cover, panicking about their pre–mixed paints getting ruined and creating an expensive, colorful mess.
Chaos erupted until an umbrella suddenly appeared over my head. I turned to find Frederick gripping the handle as rainwater cascaded off the edges, creating a blurry curtain that seemed to shut out the world.
“Here, take this.” He pressed the handle into my palm, bent down, and smoothly lifted my art bag onto his shoulder
in one fluid motion.
‘Hey,” I called after him, “give it back–it’s too heavy, and we’ll be in trouble if the group leaves without us.”
‘We won’t. It’s just a passing shower.”
He kept walking, leaving me to hold the umbrella and follow his pace. “I never knew you were this thoughtful
before.”
‘Before… they never gave me a chance to get close to you…”
His voice dropped, and even though I couldn’t see his expression clearly, the sadness was unmistakable.
Getting caught up in the moment, I blurted out, “I don’t want anything to do with those guys anymore.”
He spun around, his dark eyes lighting up noticeably. “Really?”
“Really.”
And just like that, as if on cue, the mountain rain cleared up.
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