He Shredded My College Letter For Her Fake Tears

During the Yearbook photoshoot, the photographer smiled and gestured for the couples to move closer together.

But Daniel pressed his hand against my shoulder and pushed me straight to the edge of the group, then turned and pulled Harper to his side.

"Harper and I are this year's Valedictorian and Salutatorian. It makes sense for us to stand together—it'll look better for the Yearbook spread."

This wasn't the first time he'd pushed me away.

When I brought him my AP Calculus mistakes, he barely glanced at them before saying my foundation was too weak—don't waste his time.

But when Harper, ranked second in our class, brought him basic algebra questions and played dumb, he didn't notice a thing.

He'd even FaceTime with her until two in the morning, patiently breaking down every single step.

When I wanted to study with him at the library, he'd frown and say I was breaking his focus.

But when Harper dropped just two points on a quiz, he'd skip track practice entirely to take her to the beach and cheer her up.

Right before the photographer pressed the shutter, he couldn't help teasing, "You two are a couple, right? You look like prom king and queen material!"

Daniel looked at Harper, his smile proud and tender. "We're always on the same wavelength."

Harper blushed and ducked her head as the guys from the team whistled and hollered around them.

I stood outside the noise, gripping my phone so hard my knuckles went white. The camera app I'd opened hours ago had already timed out.

The dark screen reflected the dress I'd tried on for hours last night, and the curls I'd ironed over and over again.

God, how stupid of me.

The spot beside him was never meant for me.

And now? I don't want it anymore.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and turned my back on the noise across the lawn.

Inside the main building, Mr. Davis, the college counselor, handed me my final transcript and gave my shoulder an approving pat.

"Your GPA held steady, Evelyn. Go home and really look over your college list."

He paused, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"I heard you're planning to apply to schools in Boston with Daniel. Look, the competition at those East Coast schools is brutal. With your grades, pushing for Boston would put you at a real disadvantage. My advice? Put your own future first."

I clutched the transcript and thanked Mr. Davis.

The moment I stepped out of his office, I ran straight into Daniel and Harper.

They both froze when they saw me.

Then Harper hurried forward, her smile warm and sweet. "Oh, there you are."

She held out a drink. "We just grabbed something. Daniel said to get you one too."

I glanced down.

They each had an iced coffee, their names written side by side in black Sharpie on the clear plastic cups—"Dan & Harp," with a big smiley face at the end.

What she was handing me was a pink Strawberry Frappuccino.

I'm severely allergic to strawberries. Severe enough to go into anaphylactic shock. Daniel has always known that.

I forced a smile, took the Frappuccino, and without a word, slammed it straight into the hallway trash can.

The thud echoed. Pink liquid splattered. The hallway went dead silent.

Harper's smile froze on her face. Her eyes instantly welled up, and she looked at Daniel, utterly lost.

Daniel's brow furrowed immediately. "Evelyn, what is your problem?"

His voice was cold, laced with warning.

"Is this because I moved you out of the photo earlier? That was my call. Don't take it out on Harper."

"I already told you why—as Valedictorian and Salutatorian, that positioning was completely necessary for the Yearbook layout."

"And I promised I'd take some photos with you separately afterward, didn't I?"

I looked at him, and suddenly I didn't even have the energy to argue.

He said he'd take photos with me later. But just now, my Instagram had already been flooded with classmates' Stories.

In the videos, he had his arm tight around Harper's waist as they took group photos, then went with her to the corner café for drinks, and now here they were, picking up transcripts together.

A full hour. He hadn't sent me a single text. He'd forgotten I existed.

It seemed like everything had changed the moment Harper transferred in and their names were locked side by side at the top of the honor roll.

He'd grown more and more disgusted by how average I was. When he looked at me now, all I saw was barely suppressed irritation.

I should've realized it back then. Daniel and I—we were done.

When I still didn't respond, Daniel seemed to run out of patience entirely.

"Fine. I'll take the photo now. There. Happy now?"

Without waiting for my answer, he yanked my phone out of my hand and shoved it at Harper.

He stood next to me, but left a deliberate gap between our shoulders.

I stared at him, expressionless. He didn't even bother turning toward the camera before he was already striding over to grab my phone back and shove it into my palm.

"There. Now drop the attitude." His tone was flat with annoyance. "Wait in the hall. I'll walk Harper through getting her transcript, and then we'll all leave together."

With that, he turned and pushed open the door, ushering Harper into the office.

I stood alone in the middle of the hallway and opened my photo gallery.

The newest picture was completely out of focus. All it showed was the gray-white tile of the hallway floor, and the flapping hem of his jacket as he'd turned to leave.

I stared at that blurry mess for one second. Then I smiled faintly.

Deleted it. Cleared recently deleted.

Opened my contacts. Blocked Daniel's number. Permanently.

I folded my transcript neatly and slipped it into my backpack.

I pushed through the heavy double glass doors of the school, shoved my hands into my pockets, and walked forward.

I didn't look back once.

I was done waiting for him.