I was born with what people called a “vixen’s” face. My eyes slanted upwards at the corners, and my lips were so naturally red they looked painted. The slightest change in my expression was immediately labeled as “seductive” or “flirtatious.” Mandy, a girl in my major, was always telling me, “Lila, if you just toned down your looks a little, people wouldn’t get the wrong idea about you.” When my childhood friend, Julian, heard this, he’d just push up his glasses and say coolly, “Mandy has a point. You really should be more careful.” He never listened to my side of the story. “Alright, drop the act. I’ve known you forever, I know when you’re playing the victim.” Later, much later, when Josh had me cornered on a piano bench, his fingers tracing the hem of my dress as he kissed me breathless, Julian would kick open the door to the music room, his fist flying towards Josh’s jaw. “Who the hell do you think you are!” 1 The moment the private room door swung open, the boisterous chatter inside died. I stood in the doorway, wearing a new floral sundress, as dozens of eyes shot towards me like tiny daggers. Julian sat at the head of the round table, his brow furrowed in a slight, almost imperceptible frown of disapproval. The girl beside him, Mandy, immediately jumped up and scurried over, her smile wide as she grabbed my arm. “Lila, you finally made it! We were starting to think you weren’t coming!” She was wearing a faded, worn-out university sweatshirt, her ponytail askew, an image of wholesome innocence. “You look so pretty today,” Mandy said, tilting her head back to look up at me, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Did you spend all this time getting dolled up at home? That must be why you’re late! Not like me, I’m so clumsy, I just threw something on and ran out the door.” Someone at the table chimed in, “Mandy, you look so pure and sweet like that!” “That dress on Lila is definitely a showstopper, though. She looks like a totally different person.” I was about to explain, but Julian’s voice cut through the noise. “Just sit. We were waiting for you.” His tone was flat, but his eyes swept over my dress with a clear note of disapproval. Mandy used the opportunity to link her arm through mine, guiding me towards the table. “Come on, sit! Julian saved a spot for you right here.” I pulled my arm free. “I was late because of traffic,” I said, looking directly at her. “And as for getting dressed up…” I gestured towards the hint of a lace trim peeking out from the collar of her sweatshirt. “If you know you can’t compete, why embarrass yourself?” Mandy’s face flushed a deep crimson, and she instinctively pulled her collar closed. “Lila.” Julian set his glass down, his voice lower than usual. “That’s not necessary.” I shrugged. “I’m just telling the truth.” “She was complimenting you,” he cut in, his voice sharp. “She didn’t mean anything by it. You don’t have to be so aggressive all the time.” Mandy immediately lowered her head, murmuring, “It’s my fault. Lila, please don’t be mad. Julian, please don’t yell at her…” Julian didn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on me as he spoke slowly, deliberately. “And besides, Mandy has a point. It’s just a get-together with classmates. You didn’t need to dress like… that.” The air in the room felt like it had turned to ice. Suddenly, a low chuckle came from across the table. Josh, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk, broke the silence. “Quite the double standard you’ve got going on there, Mr. Class President,” he drawled, his voice laced with casual mockery. “She can wear whatever she wants. Who made you the fashion police?” He paused, his eyes flicking from Julian to Mandy. “Or is it that only the people next to you are allowed to play innocent, while everyone else has to be wrapped up like a mummy?” A low murmur of gossip started to ripple through the room. Everyone knew Josh. He was the undisputed king of campus—the star basketball player with a rugged, handsome face and a rebellious streak that had girls leaving love letters in his locker daily. But he was a lone wolf, keeping everyone at a distance. He and I had barely exchanged two words before, yet here he was, inexplicably coming to my defense. Josh tilted his head, spinning his phone on the table as he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “I just ordered your favorite raspberry iced tea. It’ll be gone if you leave.” I took a deep breath, walked to the chair furthest from Julian, and pulled it out. My voice was clear and bright. “Make mine an iced raspberry tea. Extra ice.” Across the table, Julian’s fingers tightened around his glass, his knuckles turning white. 2 The steam from the hot pot filled the room with a spicy haze. Mandy had just peeled a shrimp and placed it in Julian’s bowl when she suddenly clapped her hands together. “Oh, Lila, I heard you were chosen as the lead guide for the University Archives exhibit!” Her eyes curved into crescents, but her tone was carefully measured. “Your knowledge of history is so amazing, I’m sure you’re more than qualified. It’s so impressive you were selected.” Before I could reply, she leaned closer to Julian, her voice a stage whisper that carried across the table. “But… with Lila looking so stunning, standing there in that uniform in front of the display cases…” She drew out the pause, looking around at the other students. “I mean, when people come to visit, do you think they’ll be looking at the historical artifacts… or at our Lila?” A few people snickered. “Mandy’s got a point. Lila’s looks are… distracting.” “The archives will probably be packed, but everyone will be there for the guide, not the history!” Mandy immediately waved her hands dismissively. “Oh, I was just kidding! Lila, don’t be mad, please! I know you were chosen for your talent.” I stood up, my voice ringing with conviction. “Mandy, the role of a guide is to connect people with our university’s history, to let them feel the soul of this institution. My appearance is a bonus, not a flaw.” I looked her straight in the eye. “Anyone who truly respects history won’t be distracted by the guide’s face. And if my appearance encourages someone who otherwise wouldn’t have cared to walk through that door and discover the magic of our past, then how is that not a victory in itself?” Julian suddenly spoke, his voice heavier than before. “Lila, that’s enough.” He put down his chopsticks, his brow creased. “Mandy was complimenting you. Why do you always have to turn everything into a lecture?” He paused, tapping his fingers on the table, a subtle rhythm of irritation. “And she raised a valid concern. You already draw enough attention. As a guide, you’ll need to be even more mindful of your conduct.” I lowered my eyes, my lips pressed into a thin line. “So because I’m pretty, I’m just supposed to shut up and take it when people say things like that?” Julian slammed his cup down on the table. “Alright, drop the act. I’ve known you forever. I know when you’re playing the victim.” The laughter around the table died. Mandy’s face was a frozen mask, her knuckles white around her chopsticks. “I… I was just making a casual remark…” “Maybe you should engage your brain before making casual remarks,” Josh drawled from his corner. The clinking of ice in his now-empty glass was shockingly loud in the silence. “If you’ll excuse me,” I said, giving a small nod in Josh’s direction. “The tea was great. We’ll have to do it again sometime.” As I turned and pulled open the door, I heard Julian’s low command from behind me. “Stay.” I didn’t look back. I stepped out into the hallway, the cool night air a welcome relief after the stuffy, spicy heat of the room. The knot of frustration in my chest began to loosen. As for Julian’s darkening expression and the jealousy flickering in Mandy’s eyes… That wasn’t my problem anymore. 3 The bell signaling the end of the evening study session had just rung when our academic advisor walked in, holding a class roster. “Just a quick announcement. The position of lead guide for the University Archives is a formal practicum. It will add two points of extra credit to your final grade.” A quiet buzz went through the classroom. My hand, holding a pen, froze mid-air. After class, as I walked into the hallway, I heard Mandy’s voice coming from the advisor’s office doorway. She was talking to another student. “Did you hear? Julian just went to talk to the advisor… he said I would be a better fit…” My stomach dropped. Sure enough, the next day, the list on the official notice board had been changed. My name was crossed out, replaced by Mandy’s. I clutched the crumpled draft of my presentation notes and cornered Julian in the stairwell. “Why?” My voice trembled. “The decision was final. What right did you have to go to the advisor and change it?” Julian leaned against the railing, fiddling with his class president armband. His tone was infuriatingly calm. “Mandy’s GPA is two points lower than yours. She needs those practicum credits for her scholarship.” “And what about me?” I slapped the notes against his chest, the pages filled with my dense, frantic handwriting. “Do you have any idea how many nights I stayed up researching this? Did you even see me when I was trying on the uniform?” His gaze flickered over the papers, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I know you worked hard, but…” “But she needed it more?” I cut him off, a lump forming in my throat. “Julian, you knew how much this opportunity meant to me!” He was silent for a few seconds, then reached out to touch my hair. I flinched away. “Lila, don’t be difficult,” he said, his voice softening into a placating tone. “The auditions for the freshman orientation gala host are tomorrow. I’ll talk to the student council, get you the spot. That gives you extra credit, too.” I stared at his entitled expression and suddenly let out a laugh, cold and sharp. “Who do you think you are, Julian?” “You want me to trade one stolen opportunity for another one you grant me out of pity?” I took a step back, my eyes turning to ice. “I’ll go to the audition myself. I don’t need you to ‘put in a word’ for me.” His face instantly darkened. “Lila, I’m so disappointed in you.” “The feeling is mutual!” I spun around to leave, but he grabbed my wrist, his grip tight. “You’ve changed since we got to college. You’re so defiant now,” he said, his voice a mixture of frustration and a possessiveness I couldn’t quite place. “You used to be so different. You used to be so good.” Used to be? I froze, and memories flooded back. Ever since we were kids, he’d follow me home from school, warding off others because of my looks. “Stay away from them,” he’d say. “They’re just jealous.” He told me not to go to sleepovers with other girls. “They just talk about you behind your back.” He told me to wear dark, plain clothes. “You don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.” And I had listened. I kept to myself, avoiding groups of girls, but they still drew monsters in my textbooks. And every time, he would be the one to rip out the defaced page, his brow furrowed as he said, “See? I was right. I’m the only one who’s really looking out for you.” I yanked my hand free, my voice raw. “Julian, you’re the one who trapped me. You suffocated me in your so-called ‘protection’—” “Lila? Julian?” Mandy’s voice cut in. She looked from me to him, her expression a mask of concern. “Please don’t fight. If you really want the position, I’ll go tell the advisor to switch it back right now. I don’t mind, really.” Before I could speak, Julian cut her off with a frown. “This has nothing to do with you. We’re talking about something else.” The words I wanted to say caught in my throat, sour and bitter. “There’s nothing left to say,” I choked out, clutching my backpack strap and walking away. “Lila!” Julian reached for me, but I dodged his hand. My footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell. I didn't look back. Behind me, I heard Mandy’s soft voice. “Julian, don’t be mad at Lila. She’s probably just feeling hurt…” And then Julian’s reply, laced with that familiar, patronizing weariness, floated down the stairs after me: “She’s just spoiled. You can’t reason with her.” I bit my lip and walked faster. The moment I stepped out of the building and into the evening air, my eyes finally burned with tears. 4 The tears fell, hot and fast. I crouched under a lamppost, burying my face in my knees, my backpack discarded on the pavement beside me. The cool night wind whipped at the hem of my dress, a chilling reminder of my own pathetic state. “Hey, need a tissue?” A lazy voice, tinged with a playful smile, sounded from above me. I looked up, my vision blurred by tears. Through the watery haze, I saw Josh leaning against the lamppost, a lollipop stick bobbing between his lips, his jacket slung casually over one shoulder. “Here, wipe your face,” he said, sliding down to sit beside me, his long legs stretched out. His movements were easy, natural. “If you keep crying, your eyes will swell up like walnuts. The judges for the audition tomorrow will think a panda escaped the zoo.” A small laugh escaped me, a choked, watery sound. The tears were still clinging to my eyelashes, but I couldn’t help but glare at him. “You’re the escaped panda.” “Alright, alright, I’m the panda,” he said, raising his hands in surrender, though the smile in his eyes gave him away. “So, can this panda treat a pretty girl to some ice cream? I heard the corner shop has a new cherry-almond flavor, with double the chocolate chips.” He stood up and held out his hand. The last rays of the setting sun caught the back of his hand, highlighting the graceful curve of his knuckles. I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand in his. His palm was warm, and he pulled me to my feet with a gentle tug. Josh suddenly leaned in close. His fingers brushed softly against the tear tracks on my cheek, a gesture so tender it felt completely out of character. “Next time you’re sad, come find me.” His handsome, roguish face was serious now. “I’m better at cheering people up than he is. And I actually make sense.” I stared into his eyes, so close to my own, and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away. “Who said I needed you to cheer me up?” “Oh?” He drew out the word, his voice a low, coaxing murmur. “Then how about you give me a chance to prove it?” His eyes were too bright, his serious expression a stark contrast to his usual lazy swagger. It was so unexpected that it sent me fleeing. 5 “Who was that?” my roommate asked, laughing as she emerged from the bathroom, toweling her hair. “Making our beautiful Lila blush like a tomato.” I flopped onto my bed and buried my face in my pillow. “No one!” When I finally calmed down, I remembered the host auditions for the next day. My formal dress for it was a little off, and Julian, saying he knew a good tailor, had taken it to be altered. As much as I didn't want to, I opened our chat. [Is the dress ready? I need it for the audition tomorrow.] He replied almost instantly. [Don’t worry, it’s all set. I’ll bring it over first thing in the morning, with some fresh donuts from that place you love. Don’t be mad anymore, okay? You’re the best, Lila. You’re going to kill it at the audition.] Reading those familiar, placating words, a knot formed in my stomach. I didn’t reply. The next morning, I waited in my dorm until nine o’clock. The audition was in an hour, and there was still no sign of Julian. I sent another message. [Where is the dress? I’m going to be late.] No reply. At 9:15, I tried calling him. No answer. Then my roommate, scrolling through the campus social media feed, showed me her phone. It was a picture of Mandy in the University Archives uniform, standing awkwardly in front of a display case. Julian was beside her, leaning down to speak to her, his profile patient and focused. The caption read: “Mandy was a little nervous for her first day, but Class President Julian stopped by to give her some pointers! ” I stared at the photo, my fingertips growing cold. I quickly typed another message. [If you don’t have time to bring it, just tell me where it is and I’ll get it myself.] 9:30. The message was sent, but it sank without a trace. My calls still went straight to voicemail. Panic began to set in. I kept unlocking my phone, trying to think of a backup plan, but my mind was a complete blank. The auditorium was already filling up. The senior student checking people in looked at me anxiously. “Lila, you’re up next. Is your outfit ready?” I clutched my phone, my palm slick with sweat. Just then, the back door of the auditorium creaked open. Josh strode in, silhouetted against the bright light. He was carrying an elegant garment bag in one hand and had something slung over his shoulder. As he got closer, I saw that it was a glittering, light-up sign. “Here,” he said, shoving the garment bag into my hands. He tapped the sign with a proud grin. “What do you think? My execution is on point, right? A proper support section for my number one fan.” I was stunned. “How did you…” “Figured there might be a problem, so I had this rush-ordered last night,” he said with a wink, gesturing towards the backstage area. “Now go, get changed.” The dress fit even better than my original one. With no time to ask questions, I changed quickly and hurried onto the stage. When the spotlight hit me, my eyes immediately found him in the audience. Josh wasn't sitting down like everyone else. He was standing in the back row, holding up the sign that had my name on it in glittering lights, swaying it gently to the rhythm of the background music. I took a deep breath and smiled. In that moment, the forgotten dress and the boy who had broken his promise didn’t seem to matter at all.
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