Chapter 2

The second I join the bet, the group chat loses its mind.

She actually said yes.

There is no way she's showing up Friday.

She's gonna turn her phone off and disappear.

Someone takes my old picture and adds pig ears.

Another person puts my face on a hippo.

The caption says:

WHEN YOUR ONLINE GIRLFRIEND FINALLY LOADS IN

I stare at it for a second, then lock my phone.

Sabrina's always been good at this.

When the Emersons first brought me home, she was sweet for maybe three days.

Then my birthday came around.

She walked into my room carrying a slice of cake.

“Peace offering.”

I actually smiled.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Try it.”

I took one bite and immediately spit it back out.

The frosting was sour.

There were tiny white worms moving inside the cake.

Sabrina had her phone out before I even stopped gagging.

“Oh my God.” She started laughing. “Avery, your face.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Relax. It's old cake.”

“There are bugs in it.”

“Extra protein.”

She posted the video before dinner.

A few weeks later, she found a picture of me outside after a workout, sweaty and sunburned, and posted that too.

By the time I moved out of the Emerson house, half the people around Sabrina already knew me as the ugly biological daughter nobody wanted.

I tell myself I don't care anymore.

Most days, I mean it.

My phone buzzes.

Sabrina.

Of course.

She sends me a video.

I almost delete it without watching.

Then I see Chase in the thumbnail.

I press play.

They're at a coffee shop.

Sabrina is filming herself, but Chase is sitting right beside her, looking down at his phone.

He's smiling.

She leans over and puts her chin on his shoulder.

“What are you looking at?”

Chase locks his phone.

“Nothing.”

“That's not nothing.”

“Just some girl online.”

My stomach drops.

Because I know exactly what he was looking at.

Me.

Sabrina zooms in on his screen for half a second before he turns it over.

My messages are still open.

And at the top, right where my name should be, is his contact name for me.

Sleep Fix.

I stare at it.

Then Sabrina sends a screenshot.

It's from their private chat.

She sent him the same old picture she dropped into the Westbridge School of Cinematic Arts group.

Sabrina: This is seriously the girl you've been talking to?

Chase doesn't answer for almost five minutes.

Then:

Chase: Her voice is hot.

Sabrina: That's not what I asked.

Chase: If she still looks like that, I'm obviously not serious.

Another message.

Chase: I'm just having fun.

I read it twice.

Then once more, because apparently I hate myself.

A voice message from Sabrina comes in.

I play it.

“Aww, Avery. He won't even call you his girlfriend.”

She laughs softly.

“Friday's gonna be rough.”

I don't answer.

A year ago, getting healthy felt impossible.

Some mornings I woke up sore from training and wanted to quit.

Some nights I stood in front of the fridge, exhausted and starving, wondering why I was putting myself through any of it.

Then my medication changed.

The swelling started going down.

I got stronger.

I started lifting.

Then running.

Then actually liking the person looking back at me in the mirror again.

I lose almost fifty pounds.

My skin clears.

My body changes.

So does my life.

Violet Echo takes off.

Three million followers.

An award.

A career I built without the Emersons, Sabrina, or anyone else handing it to me.

Chase is one of Violet Echo's biggest fans.

He sends me clips sometimes.

You have to hear this. Her voice is insane.

I've almost told him the truth more than once.

I kept stopping myself because I wanted to see his face when we finally met.

I thought it would be a surprise.

Now I know better.

Friday isn't a date.

It's a setup.

And Chase has already decided what he's going to do if the girl walking through that door still looks like the picture on his phone.

Fine.

Let him.