The Backup Girl's Revenge Goodbye, Toxic Crush

The boy I had been secretly in love with for four years asked me to bring a box of Trojan ultrathins to his hotel room.

Over the past four years, he and his first love broke up and got back together countless times.

Every time they fought, he would come to me, crying and saying I was the only one who truly understood him.

But the moment they made up, he would instantly block me on Snapchat, leaving only one cold sentence: "Let's not talk anymore.

Veronica gets jealous." Until the day before graduation, he called me. "It's completely over between her and me.

Let's be together." Holding that box of condoms, I knocked on his hotel door, my palms sweating from nerves. The door opened.

Veronica stepped out from behind him, laughing so hard she could barely stand straight. "You actually came?" Ethan’s eyes darted away in guilt, but he instinctively blocked her behind his back.

I smiled and raised the plastic bag in my hand. "How are you going to pay for the delivery fee?" Ethan froze. Complete shock registered on his handsome face.

His mouth opened slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as if something was lodged in his throat. Veronica's laughter cut off midair. Her expression became complicated.

She tilted her head, sizing me up with a mix of scrutiny and a smugness she couldn't quite hide.

I knew that look all too well. "Wow, Chloe Brooks..." Veronica dragged out her words, her voice sickeningly sweet. "You really are on call 24/7, aren't you?" I stood my ground, lightly shaking the bag in my hand.

Ethan finally spoke, his voice raspy. "Chloe, it's not what you think." "Oh? What is it then?" I smiled. "What did you think I thought?" He looked down, his eyelashes trembling.

I had seen that guilty expression too many times. Every time he unblocked me on Snapchat, every time he said he was sorry, he looked exactly like this.

In the past, my heart would soften. I would make excuses for him, thinking he had his own struggles, feeling happy just to be needed. But not anymore.

Veronica wrapped her arm around Ethan’s, leaning her entire body against him like a cat that had just stolen cream. "Ethan just wanted to test how much you actually like him.

I didn't expect you to actually show up, and with... that." Her eyes fell on the bag, her lips curling up. "Chloe, are you really that desperate to throw yourself at him?" Some hotel guests passed by in the hallway, giving us curious glances.

I didn't get angry. Honestly, I found it a little funny. Four years of humiliation suddenly felt so light at this moment.

So light that I couldn't even remember a single line of the tearful speeches I used to rehearse. "A test?" I rolled the words on my tongue. "So, you two were just bored and decided to play me for a fool?" Ethan snapped his head up. "It wasn't a test!

Chloe, let me explain—" "Ethan, what are you doing?" Veronica pouted in annoyance. "Didn't you say it yourself?

She’s just too clingy, and you needed to make her give up once and for all." Those words were meant to be a knife to my heart. But strangely, I didn't feel any pain.

I looked at Ethan, waiting for him to say something. True to form, he didn't deny Veronica's words. He just frowned, his eyes dodging mine as his lips parted.

Finally, he muttered: "Veronica, stop it." "Why should I?" Veronica lifted her chin proudly. "Chloe, who do you think you are?

Every time Ethan fought with me, he complained to you because he knew you were an easy target. Did you really think he liked you?

He just felt sorry for you." The warm yellow hallway lights illuminated Veronica's delicate, dolllike face. Ethan stood beside her.

His tall frame semishielded her—an instinctive gesture that hurt more than any words ever could. He was protecting her. He was afraid I would hurt her.

But really, who could I hurt?

I was just a backup girl he had ordered around for four years. "Done talking?" I raised the bag right in front of their faces. "That'll be fifty dollars for the delivery." Ethan was stunned.

He clearly hadn't expected me to be this calm. His gaze fell on the bag, then drifted back to my face, as if searching for any crack in my composure.

Veronica sneered. "Are you seriously asking for money?" "Why wouldn't I?" I tilted my head. "I just put on a show for you guys.

If I don't charge, wouldn't I be losing out?" Ethan’s face went pale. He reached out to grab my arm. "Chloe, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." "Don't touch me." I stepped back.

My voice wasn't loud, but it was freezing cold. His hand froze in midair, a flash of hurt in his eyes. I used to feel bad seeing him look like that. Now, it just made me sick.

"Fifty bucks. Pay up, or I’m calling the cops," I said, checking the time on my phone. "My time is valuable.

I don't have time to play these childish games with you two." Veronica's smug mask finally slipped. She stepped out from behind Ethan. "Chloe, what is your problem?

You've had a crush on Ethan for four years. Don't act like you didn't know what you were doing.

We did you a favor by helping you move on, and you're not even grateful?" "A favor?" I laughed. "Your favors are remarkably cheap." "You—!" "Veronica." Ethan pulled her back, his voice sounding exhausted. "Just stop." Veronica slapped his hand away, her eyes immediately welling up with tears. "Ethan Harrison, what is wrong with you?

Are you taking her side now?

Do you still have feelings for her?" "No, I don't." "Then why are you protecting her?" "I am not protecting her," Ethan muttered, his voice low, as if he were trying to suppress his anger.

Watching them bicker in front of me felt incredibly boring. I had seen this exact scene too many times. Every time they fought, it was over the same petty things.

The only difference was that I used to be Ethan’s therapist. Now, I was the trigger. I checked my phone again. "Venmo me.

Make it quick." Ethan took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. "I'll send it to you." Veronica snatched his phone away. "Don't you dare! Why should we give her money?

She came here on her own. Nobody forced her!" "Veronica, stop acting crazy." "I'm not crazy!

Ethan, you tell me right now, whose side are you on?!" I completely ran out of patience. "You know what?

Forget it." I tossed the bag onto the trash can in the hallway. "Consider the delivery fee a charity donation.

After all, you two are pretty pathetic if you need to humiliate others just to feel alive." With that, I turned around and walked away. "Chloe!" Ethan called out behind me.

I didn't stop. Veronica screamed louder, "Why are you calling her?

Ethan, you're an asshole!" Then came Ethan’s frantic explanations, Veronica’s crying, and finally, the slam of a door.

The hallway was long, and the thick carpet muffled my footsteps. I walked fast, my heels sinking into the carpet like silent thunder.

By the time I reached the elevator, my hands started to shake. It wasn't from sadness. It was a delayed wave of pure fury. Four years. An entire four years.

In the fall of my freshman year, I saw Ethan for the first time in the library. He was sitting by the window, the afternoon sun hitting his face like a painting.

I stood behind the bookshelf and stared at him for ten minutes, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Later, we joined the same college club, swapped Snapchats, and started talking more and more. I thought we were friends.

At least, during the brief periods when he broke up with his girlfriend, we were each other's goto people.

He would call me at midnight, complaining about what Veronica had done, saying they weren't right for each other, saying he wanted to let go.

I stayed up with him until 3 AM, and then went to class the next morning with dark circles under my eyes. When he got drunk, he called me.

Without hesitation, I ordered an Uber, picked him up, and made sure he got back to his dorm safely. He told me I was the only one who truly got him.

He said I was the most important person in his college life. And I believed him. I actually believed him. But every single time he got back with Veronica, he would block me.

The first time it happened, I cried all night. By now, I had gotten used to it.

He would always add me back after a month or so, saying "Sorry, Veronica gets jealous." And I would reply "It's fine," and continue being his emotional trash can.

I kept believing that one day, he would finally see me. Instead, all I got was a phone call the night before graduation. "It's completely over between her and me.

Let's be together."

When he said those words, his voice was so gentle—the gentlest I had ever heard. I thought he had finally opened his eyes. I thought my four years of waiting had finally paid off.

I was so excited that I practically paced around my dorm room. When my roommate, Amber, asked what was wrong, I couldn't bring myself to say it. I just grinned like an idiot.

When he asked me to bring that box to his hotel, I hesitated for a second, but I still went. My thought process was: since he chose me, I should take this relationship seriously.

But it was all just a trap. A game to see how desperate I was. The elevator arrived. I stepped in and pressed the button for the lobby.

As the doors slowly closed, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My makeup was perfect. It had taken me two hours to do. The dress was brand new—a deep navy blue.

He once mentioned he liked that color on girls. My heels were too tight, and the backs of my ankles were already chafed and bleeding, throbbing with pain.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I suddenly felt like I was looking at a stranger. Is this really me?

This pathetic girl who practically crawled in the dirt for a guy—is this really who I am? The elevator dinged at the lobby.

I walked out, crossed the lobby, and pushed through the heavy glass doors of the hotel. The night breeze hit my face, carrying the humid warmth of early summer.

The street was empty, the streetlights stretching my shadow long on the pavement. My phone buzzed. I looked down. It was a message from Ethan. "Chloe, I'm so sorry.

Tonight wasn't what you think." "Veronica and I really broke up. She came to my room tonight wanting to get back together, but I rejected her." "She said she wanted to meet you.

I had no idea she would say those things. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to come. Can you forgive me? Let's talk." I stared at the messages for exactly three seconds.

Then, I tapped his profile and hit "Delete Friend." The screen jumped back to my contact list, and his name vanished.

A sudden wave of relief washed over me, as if a massive weight had finally been lifted off my chest. My fouryear obsession was finally, completely gone.

I shoved my phone back into my bag, took a deep breath, and walked into the night. When I got back to the dorm, Amber was still awake.

She was sitting on her bed with a sheet mask on. Seeing me walk in, she blinked. "You're back so early?

Didn't you say you weren't coming back tonight?" "Change of plans." I tossed my bag onto the bed and started grabbing makeup wipes.

Amber leaned forward, her eyes glittering with gossip. "What happened?

Did Ethan stand you up?" "No." I wiped off my lipstick. "He had me go over there so he and his exgirlfriend could humiliate me together." Amber’s face mask almost slid off. "What?!" I briefly summarized what happened, keeping my tone flat, like I was telling someone else's story.

By the time I finished, Amber tore the mask off her face completely. "Chloe, are you okay?" "I'm fine." I gently wiped off my eye makeup in front of the mirror. "I deleted him." "Deleted him?" Amber’s eyes widened. "Are you sure?

You've deleted him like a hundred times before, and every time he added you back, you folded." "Not this time." I threw the dirty cotton pad into the trash. "I'm done." Amber stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded firmly. "Good.

I trust you, babe. If you add him back this time, I am personally breaking your legs." I smiled but didn't say anything.

After washing my face, I climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to my chin. The dorm was quiet, save for the low hum of the AC.

Amber turned off the lights, and soon, her breathing became slow and even. I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. I thought I would cry, but not a single tear fell.

Around 2 AM, drowsiness finally started to creep in. Just as I was drifting off, my phone vibrated violently. I picked it up. It was an unknown number. A call.

I hesitated for a moment, then walked out to the balcony and pressed answer. "Chloe Brooks," Ethan’s voice came through the receiver, thick with suppressed anger. "Did you block me?"