They say no one remembers who comes in second place. Unless, of course, you’re the one who’s always in second place. After securing the rank of salutatorian for three consecutive years in high school, I had grown numb to it. I calmly accepted my fate as the eternal runner-up. That was until the early college admissions quotas came down. Our homeroom teacher called me and the valedictorian into his office at the same time. "We have two early admission spots for the Ivy League program," Mr. Davis said, pushing two sheets of paper across his desk. "Based on academic ranking, the spots go to you two." "Fill out these recommendation forms." I nodded. I quickly and meticulously filled out the entire form. Just as I was about to hand it back to Mr. Davis, the valedictorian—who had been standing off to the side, completely motionless—finally moved. He reached out, snatched my form right out of my hand, ripped it into shreds, and tossed the pieces into the air. With an icy glare, he declared: "I'll accept the early admission. But on one condition." "Chloe has to be admitted with me." I let out a cynical laugh. Wow. The delusional romantic is really flexing his muscles. The white pieces of paper fluttered down in front of my eyes like snow. After shredding my recommendation form, Arthur Sterling dusted off his hands, looked straight at our homeroom teacher, and said coldly: "Mr. Davis, I will accept the admission spot, but Chloe Miller must go with me." As the words left his mouth, a deathly silence fell over the office. After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Davis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, asking in total bewilderment: "Arthur, do you have any idea what you're saying?" "I know exactly what I'm saying." Arthur stood tall, one hand casually shoved into his pocket. "Either Chloe and I both get early admission, or I don't want the spot at all." What a tragic, earth-shattering love story. If he wasn't trying to use my admission spot as a bargaining chip, I almost would have been moved to tears. Mr. Davis's chest was heaving with anger. The finger he pointed at Arthur was visibly trembling. "You... you are being absolutely ridiculous! Early admission spots are strictly based on academic ranking! Do you not know what rank Chloe is in this school?!" "I make the rules." Arthur's tone was incredibly flat and arrogant. "These are my terms. Think it over carefully." I didn't say a word. I just stood there, calmly watching this absurd, melodramatic play unfold. Mr. Davis stared at him for a solid thirty seconds. Finally, looking as if all the energy had been drained out of him, he slumped back into his leather chair. He waved his hand, his voice heavy with profound disappointment. "Get out. I don't want to see your face right now." Arthur didn't even bother with a polite goodbye. He turned on his heel and walked out, acting as if he already held all the winning cards. The office door clicked shut, cutting off the noise from the hallway. Mr. Davis let out a long, heavy sigh. He pulled open a drawer, took out a brand-new, blank recommendation form, and slid it across the desk toward me. "Stella, fill this out again." His voice was a little hoarse. "The school has two spots. If Arthur forfeits his, the spot automatically rolls down to the student ranked third." I carefully wrote out my name and intended major, stroke by stroke. I almost wanted to burst out laughing. Has Arthur been watching too many teen soap operas? Who exactly does he think he's posturing for? When I returned to the classroom, I carefully folded the new, completed form and tucked it into the hidden pocket of my backpack. The very next second, a shadow fell over my desk. It was Chloe. She had specifically worn a brand-new lace sundress today. She leaned forward, bracing both hands on the edge of my desk. Her sickly-sweet voice dripped with undisguised gloating: "Stella, what's the point of having good grades? In the end, it all amounted to nothing, didn't it?" "When it comes down to it, I'm just luckier. Arthur is willing to give up everything for me." As she spoke, her eyes were shining. She looked exactly as if she believed she was the beloved main character in a romantic teen drama. Right on cue, Arthur appeared behind her, naturally wrapping his arm around her shoulders in a protective, possessive stance. He looked down at me, using a condescending, pitying tone: "Sorry for taking your opportunity, but Chloe can't be without me." "You know how it is. I can't just let her go off to an out-of-state college all by herself. I wouldn't be able to stop worrying." They played off each other flawlessly, their duet practically seamless. They were clearly waiting for me to break down, demand answers, or burst into tears. The eyes of the surrounding classmates covertly darted over, eager to see how this dramatic spectacle would end. Unfortunately for them, they were going to be deeply disappointed. I leaned back in my chair, looking at this couple acting out a soap opera scene right in front of my desk, and suddenly found it incredibly hilarious. So, I actually let out a light, genuine laugh. "Are you guys done?" My reaction was clearly not what they had anticipated. The smug smile on Chloe's face froze, and Arthur's brow furrowed slightly. I ignored them completely. I pulled out my AP Physics prep book, flipped to the page I hadn't finished yesterday, spun my pen, and started solving the final free-response question. The air in the room seemed to solidify. The lines they had so carefully rehearsed, the emotional performance they had put on... It was all completely blocked and suffocated by my flat, apathetic reaction. It was like punching a pillow—not even a sound came back. Ultimately, Arthur grabbed Chloe's hand and stalked away from my desk, looking incredibly sullen and frustrated. As they walked away, I could hear Chloe's indignant, hushed complaining: "Arthur, did you see her attitude?!" Arthur comforted her softly: "Ignore her. She's just a sore loser." My pen paused for a fraction of a second as I wrote down the final answer on my scratch paper. I had never entertained the thought of arguing with someone who was already destined to be eliminated from the game. What they didn't realize was... Their grand performance, in my eyes, was nothing but a premature, pathetic one-man show. And I didn't even have the slightest interest in being part of the audience. Ever since that day, Arthur and Chloe genuinely believed they had both secured early admission. As a result, they completely checked out and stopped trying. During morning homeroom, their desks were empty. During first period, they would stroll in right as the bell rang, carrying iced coffees and breakfast sandwiches from off-campus. By afternoon periods, they simply stopped showing up altogether. Rumors about them flooded the campus. Someone saw them catching the latest romance movie at the downtown theater. Someone bumped into them playing the claw machines at the mall arcade. Someone else snapped a photo of them holding hands while strolling around the lake park and posted it on the school's anonymous forum. In the gray, high-stress, suffocating environment of senior year, they became the only splash of reckless, uninhibited color. Everyone was envious of them. Envious of Arthur's profound devotion, envious of Chloe's incredible luck. A perfect match—the genius valedictorian throwing away his bright future for love. It was practically the script for 'Teen Romance of the Year.' And in this script, I became the ungrateful, bitterly jealous, villainous side character. Once, while filling up my water bottle in the hallway, I overheard two girls whispering. "Look at Stella. All she does is study all day. She's so boring." "I know, right? She must be insanely jealous of Chloe. What's the point of having good grades if you still get kicked out of the early admission spots in the end?" I finished filling my bottle and walked right past them, my face entirely expressionless. Jealous? Absolutely unnecessary. I just felt that, standing right before the finish line, watching two runners who mistakenly believed they had already crossed it begin their premature victory laps... It was a behavior that severely challenged the lower limits of my cognitive understanding. My final act of charity happened exactly thirty days before the SATs and final exams. During evening study hall, the classroom was so quiet you could only hear the scratching of pens on paper. Miraculously, Arthur and Chloe had actually shown up. But they didn't bring any textbooks. Instead, they were using their phones to look up itineraries for a post-graduation senior trip. "Let's go to the beach, Arthur! I want to take aesthetic photos in pretty sundresses," Chloe said. Her voice wasn't exactly shouting, but it was loud enough for everyone in our immediate radius to hear. "Okay. Whatever you want," Arthur replied, his tone so sickeningly sweet it could give you cavities. The guy sitting in front of me ruffled his hair in absolute frustration. Finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore and turned around, whispering harshly: "Hey, you two. Can you keep it down? You're distracting everyone who's actually trying to study." Chloe immediately pushed out her bottom lip, looking incredibly wronged, and turned her big, sad eyes toward Arthur. Arthur looked up, his eyes turning cold. "Is our conversation bothering you?" The guy shrank back under Arthur's aggressive glare and didn't dare say another word. I put my pen down, turned around, and looked directly at Arthur. "There are thirty days left. Are you absolutely certain you want to waste your time on this?" Hearing my words, Arthur let out a scoff. He leaned back in his chair, looking at me with overwhelming pity. "Stella, did you forget? You're the one who didn't get early admission. Not me." He enunciated every single word, making sure they were crystal clear. "You should spend more time worrying about yourself. It'd be a real embarrassment if you can't even score high enough to get into a decent state school." Chloe sat next to him, covering her mouth as she let out a light, mocking giggle, immediately chiming in: "Yeah, Stella. Thanks for caring about us, but we really don't need your concern." I nodded slowly and turned back around to face the front. "Okay." From that day forward, I never spoke a single word to either of them. I watched them live every day basking in the imaginary halo of being "early admitted scholars," enjoying their final, delusional carnival. Time flew by. Soon, it was time for the final mock exams. When the massive red bulletin board displaying the school-wide rankings was posted, the entire hallway erupted in chaos. Unsurprisingly, I saw my own name right at the very top. Rank 1. Valedictorian. As for Arthur's name... I had to scan for a very long time before I finally found it, buried in a corner in the lower-middle section of the board. An unprecedented, historically catastrophic drop: Rank 173. As I was looking, Arthur and Chloe pushed their way through the crowd, holding hands. They saw the ranking board. They saw my name at the top. And they saw Arthur's name, which had plummeted off a cliff. The surrounding area fell into a dead silence. Everyone held their breath, eager to see how the former golden boy would react to this. But Arthur just shrugged carelessly. He pulled Chloe closer, whispered something in her ear, and the two of them exchanged a look before actually bursting into laughter. Finally, completely ignoring everyone around them, they turned and walked away. I watched their retreating backs disappear at the end of the hallway, and let out a soft, quiet exhale. The day of the final exams, the sun was almost blindingly bright. The school gates were packed with anxious parents dropping off their kids. I found a spot in the shade of a large oak tree, leaning against the trunk leisurely, waiting for my best friend—who had very nearly forgotten to bring her exam admission ticket. "Stella?" A familiar, yet somewhat uncertain voice rang out. I looked up and saw two people who absolutely should not have been here—Arthur and Chloe. They were wearing casual street clothes, holding hands, looking like tourists visiting a local landmark. The moment they saw me, the expressions on their faces shifted from shock to a knowing, gloating schadenfreude. Arthur walked up, feigning concern as he asked: "Stella, why aren't you going inside? They're about to open the testing rooms. Don't tell me... you're giving up?" Chloe, standing behind him, didn't say a word, but she raised a hand to elegantly cover her mouth as she giggled. "Don't tell me you realized you didn't have a chance, so you decided to just not take the test at all?" She delivered the vicious insult with her usual soft, delicate tone. "Honestly, it's fine. You're a girl, anyway. You don't necessarily have to go to a top-tier university." I watched their perfectly synchronized double act, and I smiled. Meeting his probing, arrogant gaze, I asked softly: "Arthur, did you know? The acceptance letters for the Ivy League early admission program were mailed out last week." His expression froze for a fraction of a second. I paused, giving him ample time to process and savor the implications of my words. Then, I spoke, slowly and deliberately. "Did you get yours?" The chaotic noise of the crowd around us seemed to instantly mute. Arthur stared at me. For the very first time, a look of utter bewilderment—and a trace of panic he hadn't even realized was there—appeared in his eyes. Instinctively, blankly, he shook his head. "Oh," I nodded, the smile on my face deepening just a fraction. "Is that so?" "Because I got mine." Chapter 2 The destructive power of that single sentence was far greater than I had anticipated. The color drained from Arthur's face at a visible rate. In exactly one second, his expression morphed from shock to a deathly, ghastly white. His lips trembled. He looked like a fish suffocating on dry land. It took him a long time to finally force out a few choked words: "You're... lying..." Chloe, standing behind him, finally realized something was catastrophically wrong. She yanked hard on his arm. "Arthur, don't listen to her! She's just jealous of us! Let's go, ignore this psycho!" Arthur reacted as if he had been burned, violently ripping his arm out of her grasp. He stared dead at me, his eyes rapidly filling with bloodshot veins. It was the desperate, final struggle of a man watching his entire belief system collapse. "Impossible! Mr. Davis promised me! He said he'd transfer my spot to Chloe! You were the one who got cut!" I couldn't be bothered to waste another syllable on him. Sometimes, silence is infinitely more powerful than any words you could speak. My absolute calm completely obliterated his final psychological defense. Looking like a madman, he shoved his way through the dense crowd of parents, screaming hoarsely as he sprinted toward the main administration building. "I'm going to find Mr. Davis! I'm going to demand an explanation!" Chloe hiked up her sundress and went stumbling after him, crying and screaming his name. My best friend, who had just arrived and witnessed the tail end of this circus, stared in open-mouthed shock. "What the hell just happened? What triggered the former golden boy?" I shrugged. "He probably just realized he's a complete idiot." We didn't have to wait long. The warning bell for the exam hadn't even rung yet when the former "power couple" burst out of the administration building, one after the other. The expressions on their faces were even more spectacular than when they went in. Arthur looked completely hollowed out, like a marionette whose strings had been violently severed. And Chloe? Her face was covered in tears, and her eyes burned with a venomous, unadulterated hatred. SMACK! A sharp, resounding slap echoed over the noisy campus gates. Using every ounce of her strength, Chloe viciously slapped Arthur across the face. Her shrill, hysterical screaming tore through the air. "Arthur Sterling! You liar! You ruined me! You destroyed my entire life!" Arthur held his cheek, staring at her in absolute disbelief. Then, he exploded too. "I ruined you?! Chloe, I threw away my early admission spot to an Ivy League school for you! And now you're blaming me?!" "Did I ask you to throw it away?! YOU wanted to play the hero! YOU said you could handle everything! And now look?! What the hell am I supposed to do now?! I don't even have a college to go to!" Chloe broke down completely, pounding her fists against his chest. "You're just a selfish narcissist! You only care about making yourself feel like a martyr!" "What about you?! Weren't you thrilled when it happened?! Now that things went south, you're shoving all the blame onto me?!" Arthur roared, his eyes red and frantic. "If your grades weren't so pathetic that you didn't even qualify for the waitlist, would any of this have happened?!" That sentence was the spark that detonated the powder keg. Chloe lunged at him like a feral animal, scratching and tearing at his clothes, screaming the most vile, venomous curses imaginable. However sweet and romantic they used to be, that was exactly how humiliating and ugly they were right now. Their grand, earth-shattering love story, when confronted with brutal reality, was as fragile as wet tissue paper. The surrounding parents and students formed a tight circle around them, pointing and whispering, treating them like a free circus act. I calmly withdrew my gaze and turned to my best friend. "Let's go. I'll buy you a matcha latte." My friend was still in a daze. "Huh? We're not going to wait until they finish fighting?" I smiled, grabbed her hand, and turned away. Behind us, that pathetic, miserable brawl was still raging on, but I had absolutely zero interest in it. They were just two fools paying the inevitable price for their own stupidity and arrogance.
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