He Faked Being Bullied, I Gave Up Yale

Ten years loving Liam Rockefeller cost me everything.

He said the football team jumped him—so I charged in and took the punches. He sobbed that his stepbrother would destroy him at Yale—so I ripped up my acceptance letter. He held me at midnight whispering "I'm so lucky to have you"—and I thought that meant forever.

Three months later, I heard him laughing in the locker room—laughing about me.

"Iris is like a fucking puppy, so easy to fool. Now that the Yale spot's open, Emily can go with me."

The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces—just tools to control me while he fucked his side piece.

He thought I'd still stand in front of him even with a broken nose. He thought I'd never wise up.

I wised up.

In his stepbrother Sebastian's bed.

Iris's POV

"Dude, you faked being bullied for MONTHS just to dump Iris? That's cold as hell!"

My teammates' laughter echoed through the football locker room.

I stood frozen outside the door, clutching my State University acceptance letter. The paper crumpled in my sweaty palm.

"What else was I supposed to do?" Liam sounded way too pleased with himself. "She was all over me 24/7. I had to get out somehow."

My heart dropped.

Three months ago, Liam—my childhood friend, the boy I'd been in love with forever—came to me crying about being bullied by the football team. Ice water dumped on him in the locker room. Shoved around during practice. Force-fed shots at frat parties until he puked blood.

"Iris, I can't go to Yale." That night he'd been shaking in my arms. "My stepbrother and his crew are all there. They think I'm nothing—just some bastard. They'll make my life hell."

I felt so bad for him. I grabbed his hands and decided right then: "Then screw Yale. I'll go to State with you."

"So where are you REALLY going?" a teammate asked.

"Yale." Liam laughed. "With Emily. Once Iris gives up her spot, my dad can pull some strings to get Emily in. Then we can go together."

Emily White—that poor-little-rich-girl wannabe transfer student.

I thought she was just his friend. Turns out she was what he actually wanted, and I was just baggage.

"Damn, you went through all that for Emily? That's dedication!" someone whistled.

"Yeah, well." Liam's voice got softer. "Emily's sweet. She actually listens, you know? Not pushy like Iris. Emily appreciates me—doesn't nag 24/7. Iris acts like she's hot shit just because she's a Vanderbilt. Always telling me what to do."

My throat closed up. I couldn't breathe.

"But Iris gave up YALE for you," another guy said. "Her whole family went there. Three generations. She basically told them all to go to hell."

"That was HER choice." Liam scoffed. "I didn't ask her to. Besides, she should give up that spot anyway. Emily actually NEEDS Yale. Her family's broke—an Ivy degree is her only shot. Iris? She could drop out tomorrow and still be set for life. What's she got to worry about?"

My nails dug into my palms, keeping me grounded.

"What if she finds out?" someone asked nervously.

Liam laughed. "So what? She'll forgive me. She always does. Remember that parking lot thing? Three seniors came at me, and she literally threw herself in front of me. Got her nose broken—blood everywhere—didn't even flinch. You really think a girl like that's gonna leave me?"

The locker room erupted. Every laugh felt like a slap.

I remembered that afternoon. The sunset. Long shadows in the parking lot. I'd rushed between Liam and those guys. The punch landed square on my face. My nose exploded. Blood filled my mouth. But I swallowed it and kept standing.

Afterward, Liam held me while he cried. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

I'd pressed my hand to my bleeding nose. "It's fine. I'm supposed to protect you."

Now I got it—those three "seniors" were probably on Liam's payroll.

Every scar. Every tear. Every sacrifice. All a joke. I thought I was protecting him. Really, I was just playing my part in his little show.

I leaned against the wall, trying to breathe, my mind flashing back to the fight with Genevieve two weeks ago.

"Give up Yale for STATE?" My sister had thrown a folder at me. "Iris, what the FUCK is wrong with you?"

"Liam NEEDS me!" I'd screamed back, ignoring the blood trickling from my temple. "I love him! I can't just let him suffer!"

Genevieve looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Throwing your whole life away for some guy. You're gonna regret this so bad."

I took a deep breath. Didn't storm into that locker room. Just turned around and left.

In the parking lot, I got in my Maserati and ripped up the State acceptance letter. Pieces scattered everywhere like confetti—my whole youth, torn to shreds.

I stared at my phone for a second, then called my sister.

"Iris?" She picked up immediately.

"Gen." I wiped my eyes, voice steady. "You were right. I'll do whatever you say. I'll go to London."

Long silence.

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah." I watched the sky getting dark. "More sure than I've ever been about anything."

Gen let out a breath. "I've been waiting for you to say that. School's all arranged—don't worry about it. Oh, I've got an old friend in London. He'll look out for you."

After I hung up, my phone lit up.

Liam: "Iris, where are you? Great news—found this amazing Italian place near State. We can go all the time!"

Another text: "Oh and the football team there's supposed to be decent. You can come to my games. So excited for college with you."

I stared at those words. My heart shattered all over again.