The Comment I Wasn't Supposed to See

The comment appeared in my vision, shimmering over Lucas's head, just as he was pushing the pink cocktail across the table.

The nerd has no idea that drink will give the female lead her super-brain, making her ace the SATs.

And it's all going to plan on the other side. Once the jock drinks his special cocktail, the male lead will get his insane athletic ability and get scouted by a top D1 university.

"I just love a power couple story!"

A power couple? You call stealing someone else's life's work "power"?

I silently switched my glass with the one intended for the school's star athlete.

The IQ of a rock.

The stamina of a chain-smoker.

It's all yours.

When those bizarre, floating captions first flickered into existence, Lucas was still coaxing me to drink the pink concoction in front of me.

"Chloe, you have to try this one."

In the dim light of the private room, Lucas's smile was dangerously deceptive. He was the boy next door, the one I'd been quietly in love with for a decade.

Any other day, his words would have sent a thrill through me. I would have downed the drink in a heartbeat, my low tolerance be damned, just for the warmth of his attention.

But those comments had planted a seed of suspicion.

I feigned hesitation.

"We have finals in three months, Lucas. I have a mountain of practice tests to get through tonight. Alcohol will just cloud my head. How about after the SATs? My treat."

"I made it just for you," he insisted, his voice a little too smooth. "I'm calling it 'The Chloe.' It's your namesake. Just one sip."

Something was wrong.

I knew Lucas. I mean, I really knew him. And he didn't like me.

For years, I was the one trailing in his wake while he couldn't be bothered to spare me a word.

His entire world revolved around Isabella Reed, the school's reigning queen bee, and figuring out new ways to make her smile.

For him to be not just mixing me a drink, but practically begging me to drink it, was more than strange. It was a five-alarm fire.

Another caption popped up above his perfectly styled hair.

"Poor Lucas, having to suck up to this four-eyed loser for Isabella's sake."

"Her glasses just make Isabella look that much more like a goddess in comparison."

"Just drink it already, nerd! Stop wasting time!"

So that was it. Lucas and Isabella were the main characters of this story.

He, the handsome golden boy from a wealthy family; she, the effortlessly beautiful It Girl.

A match made in high school heaven.

Lucas has been in love with Isabella forever, and their story is a dramatic dance of will-they-won't-they, all while somehow managing to coast their way into top universities without ever seeming to crack a book.

And apparently, the "system" decided their plot needed a little boost.

So, they were given a shortcut: a couple of tainted drinks to steal my academic diligence and the raw athletic talent of our school's star jock, Blake Vance.

I stared at the pink liquid, a bitter laugh caught in my throat. So, the lives of the main characters mattered because they had an audience, but the rest of us were just props?

Was that it? My spot at the top of the class, the number one rank I'd held since freshman yearthat was the result of countless sleepless nights and mountains of textbooks.

And he thought he could just snatch it all away with one cheap cocktail.

Looking at his fake, charming smile now, I just felt sick.

I picked up the glass.

Lucas's eyes locked onto my hand, his posture suddenly tense.

I brought the rim to my lips, then stopped.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a little too quickly.

"My heart's acting up a bit. I think I left my pills in the other room. Could you grab them for me?"

I was born with a minor heart condition that required daily medication. It was the perfect excuse. He hesitated.

I swirled the pink liquid in the glass. "By the time you get back, this glass will be empty. Promise."

That was all it took. Lucas practically sprinted out of the room.

The second he was gone, my eyes scanned the crowded party for Isabella. I found her on the balcony, handing a drink to Blake.

Of course. They were in it together. Insidious.

Lucas works on me for Isabella's benefit, while Isabella uses her neighborly connection with Blake to trick him into giving up his physical prowess for Lucas.

I flagged down a passing waiter, pressed a hundred-dollar bill into his hand, and told him to accidentally spill a tray of drinks on Isabella.

He played his part perfectly, apologizing profusely.

Isabella, ever the gracious queen, had to maintain her image. She just smiled.

"It's totally fine. I'll just go to the restroom and clean up."

Before leaving, she gave Blake a pointed look. "That drink is amazing, you really have to try it."

Blake, lounging against the railing with his usual casual indifference, just lifted the glass in a lazy salute, not paying much attention.

The moment Isabella was out of sight, he brought the drink to his lips. I lunged forward and snatched it from his hand.

He whipped his head around, his eyes wide with surprise. "You"

Blake and I were in the same class, but we existed in completely different orbits. We were parallel lines, never meant to intersect.

But there was no time for social anxiety now.

I shoved my own pink cocktail into his hand. "Trade you."

Blake just stared. "?"

Ignoring his confusion, I held up the glass I'd taken from him and clinked it against his. "Here's to new friends."

My first instinct had been to just dump the drink.

But then I thought, why should I? If Lucas and Isabella wanted to steal our futures, they deserved to pay the price.

I'd switched the drinks.

Let Isabella walk into the SATs with Blake's rock-bottom, last-in-the-class academic record.

Let Lucas step onto the field for his athletic trials with my frail, gets-winded-walking-up-stairs physique.

Oh, and my congenital heart condition. That was a fun little bonus.

I've always been a generous person. He could have it all.

Blake was still staring at me, looking completely bewildered.

A thought struck me, and I quickly clarified, "Don't worry, I didn't drink from your glass."

"S'fine," he said, a crooked, roguish smile spreading across his face.

He swirled the pink drink I'd given him and downed it in one go. "Wouldn't have cared if you did."

We were practically strangers, so once he'd finished the drink, I went back to my seat.

The moment I sat down, the room started to spin. I'm a total lightweight, and whatever was in that cocktail, it was hitting me hard.

Lucas returned just then.

He saw the empty glass in my hand and my dizzy state, and a wave of relief washed over his face. "Good. You drank it."

He tossed my pill bottle onto the table.

"You have a problem, you take your meds. Now finish up and go home. These kinds of parties aren't for nerds like you anyway."

Across the room, Isabella waved at him.

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, about to head over, but I grabbed his sleeve.

"You expect me to get home by myself in this state?"

He frowned, his patience wearing thin.

"The night's just getting started. We're going to karaoke after this. You want me to leave and play babysitter?"

I can't believe I liked this person for so many years.

I must have been brainwashed by whatever twisted plotline was controlling this world.

I let go of his sleeve.

"Get lost."

"What did you say?" He looked at me as if he'd misheard.

The girl who followed him around like a puppy couldn't possibly have said that.

I met his gaze and repeated, slowly and clearly, "Piss off, you moron. As of today, Chloe Shen is done with you."

"You" Lucas's brow furrowed, but then he let out a short, condescending laugh.

"Right, right. You're drunk. Wait until you sober up tomorrow and remember what you said. You'll come running back, trying to get on my good side again."

He hesitated for a moment, as if expecting me to break, but Isabella called his name again and he left.

Shaking my head to clear it, I stumbled outside to wait for my ride.

Two drunk guys were staggering down the sidewalk, and they slowed their pace as they passed me, their eyes lingering.

I pretended to be on the phone with my parents, avoiding their gaze.

Just as a knot of fear tightened in my stomach, the two of them saw somethingor someoneover my shoulder, and they quickly scurried away.

I turned around and saw Blake leaning against a lamppost.

"You heading home, too?" I asked.

He just grunted an affirmative, saying he was waiting for his ride. B

ut his phone screen was still lit, and I could clearly see he hadn't even opened the rideshare app yet.

"Can I ask you something? It might be a little weird."

Blake straightened up, a faint blush creeping up the tips of his ears. "Wh-what?"

"Your grades are you really last in our class because that's all you can manage, or are you secretly a genius holding back?"

The question made him choke on air, coughing a few times. The blush on his ears deepened.

"I just I haven't really been trying, okay? I'm not stupid. I'm I'm actually pretty smart. If I really applied myself"

"Don't!" I cut him off immediately. "Last place is great! I love it!"

Right now, Isabella was linked to him, set to inherit his academic abilities for the SATs.

I couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she realized her brain was completely empty in the middle of the exam hall.

Blake couldn't afford to mess this up.

I was so lost in my own scheming that I didn't notice the way his eyes widened, a strange, rosy hue spreading across his face.

The next day, the results of the monthly practice exam were posted. As expected, I was first in the school.

Our homeroom teacher was beaming.

"Chloe, keep this up. With your focus, there isn't a university in this country that wouldn't want you."

My classmates were buzzing with admiration.

"Chloe's next goal has to be a perfect score on the verbal section."

"It's insane. I heard Harvard and Yale are already sending her feelers."

Then, the teacher's gaze fell on Isabella.

"Finals are just around the corner. Some students would be better served focusing on their books instead of their makeup. Last month you were ranked in the top 100, this month you've dropped to 300."

Isabella, busy reapplying her lip gloss in a compact mirror, didn't even flinch.

As soon as class was over, she whispered to her friends, "These little tests don't matter. The only one that counts is the SATs."

One of her friends looked confused. "But Isabella, nobody can guarantee they'll perform well on the day."

"Others can't. But I can."

Just then, the scrolling captions reappeared in my vision.

"That's right, our girl is going to get into Princeton. State scholar, no less."

"Beautiful and brilliant. That's a true female lead!"

"The nerdy side character isn't getting a bad deal. She gets Isabella's grades in return, enough to get into a state school. For a background character, that's more than enough."

It dawned on me then. The floating comments, the "viewers," they had no idea I'd switched the drinks.

They were still operating on the original script. Because I was a minor character, my actions were simply skipped over.

Did that mean I could use these comments to see what was supposed to happen?

Seeing me staring blankly at the results sheet, Isabella shot me a smug look.

"It doesn't matter how well you do now. Just you wait."

I had to physically pinch my thigh to keep from bursting out laughing.

Oh, I'm waiting. I can't wait for you to experience the full power of Blake's academic prowess on test day.

I instinctively glanced back. In the last row, Blake was asleep again, head down on his desk.

He'd been out for three straight periods.

I used to look down on people like him, just drifting through life. But now, he was a welcome sight.

Someone had left a window open, and the breeze seemed to be bothering him.

I walked over and quietly slid it shut. Can't have anything disturbing his precious sleep.

As I closed it, I looked down and found myself staring directly into Blake's sleepy, just-opened eyes.

"Keep sleeping," I whispered, giving his head a gentle, encouraging pat. "I closed the window for you."

In the next second, Blake's face turned bright red, and he quickly buried his head in his arms.

Such a sound sleeper

I was walking back to my desk, marveling at his dedication to rest, when I ran straight into Lucas, who had just returned from skipping class to play basketball.

He'd seen me close the window for Blake, and when I tried to walk past him, he blocked my path.

"Chloe, you don't have to go this far to get my attention. Are you really that desperate you'll throw yourself at any guy?"

Before I could even respond, someone rushed forward and punched Lucas square in the jaw, sending him stumbling to the floor.

Blake stood over him, gripping his collar. "Keep your damn mouth clean. If you've been eating shit, swallow it. Don't spew it everywhere."

"You!"

Blake was a good two inches taller than Lucas, with the broad shoulders and long legs of a natural athlete.

His talent was off the charts; his running times were good enough for national competitions.

It was no wonder Lucas wanted to steal his abilities.

Lucas knew better than to fight him head-on.

He just sneered, his voice dripping with certainty.

"We'll see what you've got at the athletic trials tomorrow. You're always bragging about how you've got your pick of D1 schools. Let's see what kind of times you can actually run."

Lucas's own athletic ability was average at best.

He was absolutely convinced that with Blake's stolen prowess, he would crush him tomorrow.

Just then, I felt a familiar cramp deep in my abdomen, followed by a warm rush.

I desperately wanted to set off a firecracker for Lucas right then and there.

Tomorrow, not only will you have the stamina of a Victorian damsel and the bonus of a heart condition, but now you've got my period, too.

It's even a week early.

Oh, I was looking forward to this.

The next day, I arrived at the athletic trials early.

The stadium was already packed.

It wasn't unusual for Blake and Lucas to draw a crowd, but today was something else entirely.

There were even a few reporters from local blogs with cameras, clearly hired by someone.

Lucas emerged from the locker room and, seeing me, tossed his sweaty jersey at my head like he always used to. "Smart girl. Knew to grab a good seat."

I plucked the disgusting fabric off my head, wiped the bottom of my shoe with it, and tossed it aside under Lucas's shocked gaze.

He frowned. "What's your problem? Is this still about me not taking you home from the party?"

He paused, a smirk playing on his lips as if he'd figured it out.

"You're this mad, but you still came to watch my trials. You're really that into me, huh?"

I I felt like just speaking to him lowered my IQ.

I was starting to regret it. Maybe Lucas should have been the one to drink Blake's cocktail. His level of idiocy was truly in a class of his own.

I smiled sweetly. "Good luck."

"Of course, I"

I pointed to the figure emerging behind him. "I was talking to him."

Lucas turned just in time to lock eyes with Blake, who was warming up.

He let out a contemptuous snort. "Just you watch. We're about to see a real train wreck."

Isabella had come too, of course. Lucas had saved her the best seat in the house.

"Isabella, will you wait for me at the finish line? I want to hug you the second I cross it."

Isabella blushed. "There are so many people here."

"So what? I want everyone to know you're the only one for me."

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll be there."

The captions in my vision went wild.

"OMG they're so perfect and sweet together!"

"The first big payoff scene is about to start! The male lead gets his god-tier athleticism, shatters the record, and stuns everyone."

"After today, national teams will be fighting over Lucas!"

"The side character jock can just go to some community college. Why does a background character need that much talent anyway?"

"He deserves to be humiliated for trying to compete with the male lead."

With an audience this morally bankrupt, no wonder the main characters were so twisted.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

As I was about to leave, Isabella stopped me, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.

"Chloe, I feel so bad that your childhood friend is ignoring you because of me."

"Don't, please don't," I said, waving my hands frantically. "You two are a perfect match. Truly."

Please, stay together forever. Don't ever re-enter the general population.

The athletes took their positions and began their final warm-ups.

Lucas did a routine leg stretch, and we all heard a faint crack. The color drained from his face.

The coach noticed. "What was that?"

"N-nothing. Just a stiff joint."

"Alright, just perform like you usually do."

The truth was, Lucas's natural ability was good enough to get a decent score. But he was greedy, always coveting what wasn't his.

Today's event was the 800-meter run.

They took their marks. The starting gun fired.

To everyone's astonishment, Lucas tripped over his own feet right out of the gate, face-planting onto the track.

His coach and Isabella, who had been watching with high hopes, stared in disbelief.

Lucas's face was a mask of fury. We could see him curse under his breath before scrambling back up.

But something was terribly wrong.

He couldn't understand why his body felt like it was made of lead.

After just a few strides, he was gasping for air, a sharp pain stabbing at his ribs.

This was the kind of thing that happened to people who never exercised.

He was supposed to have Blake's body

Lucas scanned the track for Blake and saw him far ahead, leading the pack with an effortless grace, looking like he hadn't even broken a sweat.

What the hell went wrong?

To make matters worse, a dull, throbbing ache started in his lower abdomen, like someone was drilling into him.

He staggered, losing his balance, and fell again.

The coach threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Lucas, what are you doing out there? Are you on your period or something? The girls are running faster than you!"

I scratched my head.

My bad.

To ensure Lucas had an unforgettable experience, I didn't even take any painkillers today.

This "wound the enemy by a thousand while wounding myself by eight hundred" tactic? I was enjoying it immensely.

Lucas, through sheer grit, forced himself back up.

He ran clutching his stomach, gasping for breath, stumbling toward the finish line.

The ridiculous sight sent ripples of laughter through the crowd.

The bloggers he'd hired hesitated, unsure if they should be filming this.

Their client had paid them to capture his moment of glory.

After a moment, they raised their cameras and started snapping away.

At least they'd have new material for a "Funniest High School Fails" compilation.

By this point, Blake had already crossed the finish line, changed his shirt, and eaten a banana.

Finally, looking utterly defeated, Lucas staggered across the line with a time of five minutes.

Isabella, who had promised to be waiting for him, was nowhere in sight.

The captions froze for a few seconds before flickering back to life.

"Wait, this isn't the plot Did the author rewrite the script?"

"The female lead just left? Is she embarrassed by him?"

"No way! Isabella must have had an emergency!"

"But seriously, what's wrong with the male lead? He stole the goods and doesn't even know how to use them?"

It hit Lucas then.

There was only one explanation for what had just happened: Isabella had never given the drink to Blake.

She must have found some weakling to swap with instead.

She had backstabbed him.

Lucas clenched his fists, a sharp pain lancing through his abdomen again.

When I walked over with a bottle of water, he was crouched on the track, his face pale.

He saw me and his eyes flickered with something like emotion. He reached a hand out to me.

"Chloe, I just I was having an off day"

His hand froze in midair.

I had walked right past him and handed the water to Blake.

"Congratulations."

Blake blinked, surprised. Someone next to him piped up, "You're a little late with that. Blake already finished a whole bottle"

Before he could finish, Blake twisted the cap off my bottle and chugged the entire thing in ten seconds flat.

He let out a long, satisfied sigh. "That was great."

I looked at the empty Dasani bottle and gave him a silent thumbs-up. "Impressive."

"Chloe!"

Lucas grabbed my arm from behind, his voice urgent. "Is this really necessary?"

I pulled my arm away and glanced around pointedly.

"Oh? Didn't Isabella bring you any water? I thought you two had a date to hug at the finish line. I was sure she'd have some special electrolyte-infused victory water ready for you."

Lucas's expression turned awkward. "It's not it's not what you think between us."

"Whatever is or isn't between you two has nothing to do with me."

I saw him still clutching his stomach and smiled. "Does it hurt?"

Seeing my apparent concern, Lucas nodded pitifully. "Yeah, it does. Will you take me to the nurse's office?"

"Oh, it hurts?"

I tilted my head.

"You know, I remember last month, when I had cramps and asked you to pick up some painkillers for me. You brought Isabella a cupcake instead. You said, 'What's there to hurt? None of the other girls are complaining. You're just being dramatic.'"

Lucas's lips moved, but no sound came out for a moment. "This isn't period pain."

I shrugged. "You never know."

A few people nearby snickered.

Lucas, thinking I was mocking him, took a menacing step forward. "Chloe, don't push it."

A shadow fell over me. Blake stepped in front of me, looking down at Lucas. He didn't say a word, but the sheer force of his presence was palpable.

Lucas clenched his fists, then turned and stalked away.

I still had a practice test to finish, so I was about to leave too.

But Blake called my name. He looked like he was about to say something, but his ears turned red first.

"Wait here for a second."

He sprinted off. Less than ten minutes later, he was back, sweating, and handed me a small paper bag. I looked inside and paused.

Ginger tea and a box of Midol.

"I was worried you didn't have any."

I was about to ask how he knew it was that time of the month when he picked up his jacket from the bench, stepped closer, and tied it around my waist.

It took me a second to understand.

"Thanks."

Blake Vance was a good guy.

The academic knowledge he was about to get from Isabella could be my thank you gift.

Isabella wasn't going to get into an Ivy League school, but her grades were decent.

Far better than Blake's dead-last ranking.

And while Blake didn't need the academic scoreshe'd already been recruited by his top-choice university for sportsa respectable transcript couldn't hurt.

With his athletic trials a total disaster, Lucas's only hope was the SATs.

He and Isabella seemed to have had a falling out after that day. I caught them arguing in the stairwell once.

Lucas had her cornered. "Why didn't the drink work? Who did you actually give it to?"

"I told you, it was Blake! How many times do I have to say it? I came back and saw him with the empty glass. Who else could it have been?"

"Then what the hell happened to me? I felt like I had zero strength in my entire body!"

"How should I know?"

"If you weren't behind it, why have you been avoiding me? Are you feeling guilty?"

Isabella looked like she was about to snap. "Because videos of your race are all over the internet!" she shrieked.

"People have made memes! They're saying you looked like you were trying to run and poop at the same time! It's humiliating to be seen with you, you get it?"

A snort of laughter escaped me.

They both froze and looked toward the corner where I was standing.

I walked out, acting as if I hadn't heard a thing.

Then I paused and walked back. "Um could you send me a link to that video? I'd kind of like to see it."

Lucas, muttering threats about suing everyone, stormed off.

Isabella stared at me suspiciously for a moment, then her expression shifted into one of bizarre concern.

"Chloe, the SATs are so close. You have to keep up the good work. With your scores, getting into Princeton is a sure thing. Everyone is so excited for the school to have a state scholar."

She was the one who was excited. The better I studied, the better her score would be.

I forced a little smile. This was an opportunity too good to waste.

I let out a dramatic sigh. "I don't know why, but I just can't seem to focus lately."

"Why not?"

"Leaving campus to get lunch and dinner is eating up so much of my study time. It's so stressful."

"You just focus on studying! I'll get your meals!"

From that day on, Isabella became my personal chef, curating balanced, nutritious meals designed for optimal brain function.

But after a few days of this, I started picking at my food, my appetite seemingly gone.

Isabella got nervous again. "What's wrong now?"

"This seat I'm in the fifth row, and it's hard to see the blackboard. I feel like I've missed so many important details lately."

That very day, Isabella went to the class president, who had the best seat in the front row, and demanded he switch with me.

The class president was floored. "And why would I do that?"

"Chloe is on track to be a state scholar," Isabella declared righteously.

"You'll be lucky to get into a state university. Shouldn't you give your seat to her?"

He shot to his feet, furious. "Are you insane?"

The other students started chiming in.

"What's wrong with you, Isabella? I thought you were nice, but you're being completely unreasonable."

"If Chloe wants to switch seats, she should ask herself. What's it to you?"

"Yeah, what's your problem with David?"

I covered my head with my hands from the back of the room.

"Please stop fighting. I can't concentrate on my work."

Isabella immediately turned to David. "Can we discuss this outside? Some people are trying to study."

David looked like his head was about to explode.

In the end, Isabella offered him five hundred dollars, and David was more than happy to switch seats with me.

I put up a show of refusing, but he insisted. I reluctantly agreed.

I looked at Isabella with feigned gratitude. "You're such a good person."

She forced a smile. "It's nothing. You just focus on studying, Chloe. The SATs are almost here. If anything is distracting you, I'll take care of it."

I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. It's amazing how tireless people can be when they're up to no good.

Isabella became my full-time guardian angel, paving my way to SAT success.

A few days later, a major distraction did indeed appear.

Lucas.