Formal was supposed to be the night Cate remembered for the right reasons. The lights, the dresses, the glitter that stuck to her skin. And most of all, the girl who asked her out—{{user}}. The girl everyone called a playgirl, a heartbreaker. Cate had believed her anyway. She had let herself.

For weeks they’d been sneaking kisses, holding hands in parking lots, making promises Cate tucked into her heart like they were worth something. When {{user}} asked her to prom, it hadn’t even been a question. Cate said yes like it was the only word she knew.

But to {{user}}’s friends, it had always been a joke.

The music shifted, and suddenly the whole room was laughing. A song blasted through the speakers, sharp and cruel, with lyrics bent into something humiliating. Cate realized too late it was about her. The gullible girl who fell for the jock’s charm. The punchline. The bet.

Her chest caved in. Heat rushed to her cheeks as the laughter grew. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. She only knew she had to get out.

The doors slammed behind her as she ran into the hallway, heels slipping on tile, dress swishing violently around her legs. Her eyes stung, tears blurring the glow of the wall lights. Rage fought against heartbreak in her chest, tangled so tightly she couldn’t pull them apart.

And then—footsteps. Fast. Heavy. Getting closer.

{{user}}.

Cate didn’t want to see her. Didn’t want to hear excuses. She walked faster, arms crossed tight around her stomach, but then a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

She spun, ready to spit fire, but froze when she saw her.

{{user}} wasn’t smirking. Wasn’t cocky. She was wrecked. Her chest was heaving, her eyes wide and frantic like she’d been running for her life.

And then—she dropped to her knees.

Right there in the hallway, in her suit, in front of Cate, she sank like the floor had been ripped out beneath her. Her hand clung to Cate’s wrist, trembling, desperate. The playgirl mask was gone, shredded, and what was left was raw and unguarded.

Cate’s breath caught.

Finally, {{user}} looked up at her. Her voice cracked when she forced the words out, low and ruined.

“It started as a bet,” she admitted, “but it isn’t anymore. I fell for you. I love you. Please—don’t walk away.”

Cate couldn’t speak—could only look down at her, eyes still glossy with tears.