The Girl Who Bet on Herself

The day before the college fall formal, a new announcement was posted in the Discord channel for Sigma Alpha, the fraternity where my online boyfriend Tyler belonged.

[For tonight’s freshman dare challenge, whoever draws the King of Spades must bring Tyler’s 300pound online girlfriend to the formal tomorrow night!]

Right after that, Tyler posted a photo of me from last Christmas into the channel.

In the photo, I was wearing an absurdly oversized reindeer sweater, my chin fat piled up in folds, looking so huge I seemed like a moving mountain.

The guys in the channel instantly exploded.

"Bro, are you serious? Whoever takes her to the dance is definitely going to die of embarrassment."

"Tyler, you actually brought her to Harbor City? Wouldn’t a girl that size need two plane seats?"

Tyler sent a laughing emoji.

"Relax, I already told her this was a romantic inperson meetup!"

"I’ll bet five hundred bucks that no matter who picks her up tomorrow night, she’ll break down crying because she can’t fit into a formal dress."

Julian, known as the fraternity’s "icecold chairman," never said a word.

But Luke, the guy who loved stirring up trouble the most, kept tagging my lurking alt account like crazy:

"Ms. Chloe, you have to come tomorrow night. Don’t bail at the last minute."

I looked at the insults scrolling across the screen and clenched my fingers.

For this crossstate meetup, I had spent a full year dropping from nearly 300 pounds to 130.

I looked at the clearly defined lines of my abs in the mirror, and at the tight, sultry red designer gown hanging in the fitting room.

Quietly, I placed a thousanddollar bet in the pool that I would show up on time.

The amount in the channel’s betting pool jumped instantly.

A thousand bucks stood out sharply among all the ten and twentydollar pocket change bets.

The chat box, which had been flooding nonstop, froze for a few seconds.

Soon, someone sent a string of question marks.

"What’s going on? Who is this lurker? They dropped a thousand dollars right away?"

"That ID looks unfamiliar. Where did this rich guy come from?"

"Could it be Chloe herself? Tyler, you didn’t kick her out, did you?"

I put down my coffee cup and tapped on the screen.

"I’m Chloe."

"Winner takes all. See you tomorrow night."

The moment the message was sent, my phone started vibrating wildly.

Tyler flooded my DMs.

"Are you crazy?"

"Where did you get a thousand dollars? Didn’t you say all your parttime money was going toward tuition?"

"The guys were just joking. What are you doing jumping in and making a scene?"

I looked at the accusations he sent, my gaze landing on the red dress in the mirror.

The old me was insecure and didn’t like talking to people in real life.

So I chose an online relationship and met Tyler.

Over the past year of that online relationship, I had helped him revise fourteen economics term papers.

When he got drunk at a party in the middle of the night, I stayed on FaceTime with him until dawn across the time zones.

He complained that all the girls around him were too shallow, and only I understood his soul.

Looking back, he was just unwilling to lose a free highend academic ghostwriter and a twentyfourhour online therapist.

I didn’t reply to him.

Luke, the one who loved stirring trouble the most, sent three whistle emojis in a row.

"Nice. A 300pound dose of courage is heavyweight, all right."

"Since Chloe dares to come, then tomorrow night’s King of Spades punishment has to be played all the way through."

"Tyler, now it’s our turn to draw cards."

A link to a virtual carddrawing mini game popped up in the channel.

Tyler was obviously panicking. He directly tagged me in the channel.

"Chloe, be good and cancel the bet. Tomorrow night’s formal is blacktie. You don’t have the right clothes, and coming will only embarrass you."

It sounded like concern, but really he was just afraid of losing face.

I was about to type when a new message popped up in the channel.

"Can you all not be so mean?"

It was Serena, the business school’s recognized head cheerleader.

"Even though Chloe’s body type is a little unusual, flying over here from so far away isn’t easy. Tyler, how can you use your girlfriend as a bet?"

"Chloe, if you don’t have a formal dress, I can lend you one. But my size is XS, so you might need to check a plussize women’s store to see if they have any onesizefitsall capes."

The group instantly burst into laughter.

"Serena really is kind. A cape is perfect, just cover her up and problem solved!"

"Unreal. Let’s just change tomorrow night’s formal theme to a Halloween preshow. I’m scared I’ll laugh out loud."

I looked at the insults scrolling across the screen and felt my heart turn colder.

Over the past year, in order to stand beside Tyler with my head held high, I had sweated it out in the gym every single day.

When stomach pain hit from extreme dieting, I still had to grit my teeth and help him with data analysis in front of my computer while my body cramped up.

All because I thought he was the first person who loved only my soul.

I left the group and threw my phone onto the sofa.

Then I turned and walked to the fulllength mirror, pulling up the invisible zipper at the back of the red dress.

At seven o’clock that night, the outside of the Claude Hotel in Harbor City was brightly lit.

I stepped through the revolving doors in teninch stilettos.

The fitted red dress wrapped around my curves, and the slit in the skirt showed off my long legs as I walked.

A lot of eyes in the lobby turned toward me.

I walked straight to the elevator.

My phone kept vibrating inside my clutch.

I took it out and glanced at it. The Discord channel had already switched to livestream mode.

Luke held up his phone at the entrance to the ballroom, a smile on his lips.

"Guys, it’s seven fifteen. Chloe, the 300pound girl, still hasn’t shown up."

"Tyler, your thousand bucks is basically guaranteed."

The camera shifted and landed on Tyler, who was dressed in a custom tuxedo.

He was holding champagne, and Serena, in a white sequined fishtail gown, stood beside him.

Serena was clinging to his arm affectionately.

"Tyler, you’re such a jerk. Chloe must be hiding in some motel somewhere, too scared to come out."

Tyler took a sip of wine, a smug smile hanging at the corner of his mouth.

"I already tried my best to talk her out of it. She insisted on placing the bet herself. If she can’t even handle this much pressure, how is she supposed to survive in Harbor City?"

Laughter broke out behind them in agreement.

Just then, the elevator doors opened.

I put away my phone and stepped out. At the end of the hallway was the signin desk for the ballroom.

Several fraternity freshmen were checking names against the list.

I walked over and gave my name.

"Chloe."

The freshman in charge of registration was a chubby guy wearing glasses. When he heard my name, he jerked his head up.

His gaze swept over my face and the red dress several times, and the pen in his hand dropped straight onto the table.

"You... are Chloe?"

He stammered so badly he could barely get the words out.

"Is there a registration record?"

My tone was calm.

"Yes, there is, but..."

He swallowed hard. "Tonight your escort is Chairman Julian. You’ll need to wait for him to bring you in."

Julian.

The icecold chairman who had never spoken in the channel flashed through my mind.

So the King of Spades in last night’s draw was him in the end.

"Where is he?"

"On the terrace."

The freshman pointed to a glass door on the side of the hallway.

I turned around, pushed open the glass door, and walked outside.

The terrace had no main lights on, only wall lamps casting a faint glow.

A man in a black bespoke suit stood with his back to me at the railing.

The night wind blew past, bringing a cool cedar scent.

Hearing the sound of high heels, he turned around, revealing a refined face.

His features were deep and sharp, and his brows and eyes carried a coldness that kept people at a distance.

His gaze landed on me, without any cheap appraisal, only curiosity.

"Wrong place?"

His voice was low.

"No."

I walked toward him and met his gaze. "I’m Chloe. I heard you drew the King of Spades."

A faint shift crossed Julian’s face.

He looked at me, and a hint of thought flashed through his dark gray eyes.

"Tyler’s online girlfriend?"

"Exgirlfriend."

I corrected him.

Last night I had sent Tyler a breakup message, but he hadn’t replied.

Coming here today was just me putting a close to my first love.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze dropping from my face and pausing at the faint muscle lines visible in the slit of the red dress.

There was nothing frivolous in it. He was only confirming some fact.

"How long did it take you?"

"One year and two months."

He nodded.

"Good stamina."

"You saw the betting pool in the channel."

I looked him in the eye. "I need to get in. If you think taking me inside would hurt your image, I can go in by myself."

"Since I drew the punishment, I don’t have a habit of running from it."

Julian straightened up, buttoned his jacket, and held out his right arm to me.

"Let’s go."

I placed my hand in the crook of his arm.

The muscle under the fabric was solid and powerful.

We walked side by side toward the ballroom doors.

Behind the heavy double doors, the noise was so loud it felt like it could blow the roof off.

Luke’s voice could be heard clearly even through the door.

"Five minutes left. If Chloe still doesn’t show, the betting pool gets settled right now!"

"Tyler, you really cleaned up on this one. Not only did you dump a huge headache, you also picked up a free thousand bucks."

The waiter at the door saw Julian and immediately bowed respectfully before opening the door.

The light from the crystal chandelier poured out instantly.

The noisy ballroom fell silent for a second the moment the door opened.

Everyone instinctively looked toward the entrance.

Julian was at the center of Harbor City’s social circle, so every move he made was already under a spotlight.

But at this moment, once those gazes landed on me in his arm, they all froze.

I clearly saw that several guys not far away, each holding a glass of wine, had their mouths hanging open wide enough to fit a pool ball.

Luke’s phone was still held up in livestream mode, the camera pointed straight at us.

"Julian’s here..."

Someone muttered under their breath.

"Who’s that beauty beside him? Is she some other rich family’s daughter?"

"That red dress looks like a Milan runway couture piece this year. Damn, you’d need an insane figure to pull that off."

I lifted my chin slightly and held onto Julian’s arm, walking down the steps one by one.

Wherever I passed, people automatically made way.

I walked straight toward the center of the hall.

Tyler was standing with his back to me, whispering and flirting with Serena.

When he heard the strange silence around him, he turned around.

The instant our eyes met, a clear flash of shock appeared in Tyler’s eyes.

He even let go of Serena’s hand and subconsciously adjusted his bow tie.

He didn’t recognize me.

Not only did he not recognize me, he lifted his chin slightly and came over on his own.

He ignored Julian beside me and stared straight at my face.

"Lovely lady."

Tyler put on his signature deep, loving smile. "I don’t think I’ve seen you at a Harbor City formal before. May I have the honor of buying you a drink?"

As soon as Tyler finished speaking, envious looks shot over from all around.

Serena stood not far away, her face slightly green, but she still kept up her polished socialite image and didn’t lose her temper.

Julian turned his head and glanced at me.

He didn’t speak, and he didn’t withdraw his arm. He just stood quietly on the side.

"Buy me a drink?"

I let out a light laugh.

That laugh made Tyler think he had succeeded.

He stepped closer, his tone even more presumptuous.

"Of course. A dazzling girl like you shouldn’t be ignored. Julian’s always so boring anyway. He doesn’t know how to take care of a lady."

I took a glass of red wine from a passing waiter’s tray.

Tyler immediately raised his own glass, ready to clink with me.

Just as the two glasses were about to hit, I turned my wrist.

The rim tilted.

The crimson wine poured down the collar of his custom tuxedo.

The white shirt was instantly stained red, and wine dripped down his chin.

A wave of gasps erupted in the ballroom.

Serena screamed and rushed over, frantically digging tissues out of her bag.

"Are you crazy!"

She shouted at me. "Do you know how expensive his suit is?"

Tyler wiped his face in a flustered mess, and the loving mask on his face finally shattered completely.

"Who the hell are you?"

He glared at me through gritted teeth.

I set the empty glass back on the tray.

"What, you don’t recognize me after I changed clothes?"

I looked him in the eye and said each word clearly.

"Didn’t you bet five hundred bucks that I couldn’t fit into a formal dress?"

The whole ballroom went dead silent.

Luke’s phone fell straight onto the carpet.

Exclamations of shock broke out in the crowd.

The anger on Tyler’s face froze instantly, his pupils contracting hard as he stared at me.

"You..."

His lips trembled, unable to form a complete sound.

"Let me reintroduce myself."

"I’m Chloe. One hundred thirty pounds."

I pulled a thousanddollar check out of my clutch and tucked it between two fingers, and slipped it neatly into the pocket of his stilldripping suit.

"You lost."

"Take the extra thousand and get your eyes checked."

The moment I turned, I caught his wrist with my other hand and yanked him so hard that he staggered forward a step. Then I lowered my voice to something only the two of us could hear.

"And don’t think I don’t know that the core data in that A+ final paper of yours was all run by me overnight. If I send the draft to your professor, guess what happens?"

Tyler’s face went instantly pale, and his grip loosened.

Just then, Julian’s voice came from behind me in a flat tone.

"Tyler, since the game is over, you should fulfill the bet."

Tyler jerked his head up.

"What bet?"

Julian stepped forward, blocking Tyler’s hand when he tried to grab me.

He looked down at Tyler from above, his tone without the slightest fluctuation.

"The betting pool rule tonight was set by you. The loser has to crawl around the dance floor three times in front of everyone."

Julian’s dark gray eyes were cold as ice.

"Now, you can start crawling."