My Boyfriend Leaked My Private Photos So My Best Friend Could Win

1: 1

Junior year, first week back, my best friend and I both ran for vice president of student council.

She was the one who suggested that whoever lost had to dress up like a clown and run eight laps around the track.

In the end I won by ten votes.

But a second later, my boyfriend, Clay Henson, put photos of me being groped in a bar up on the big screen.

Along with a whole batch of private ones.

He announced it, flat and cold:

"I don't think a bar hostess who sells her private life for money deserves to be in this election."

Every face turned to me with the same look of disgust, like they were looking at the filthiest trash imaginable.

I was disqualified on the spot and thrown out of student council.

Something about the background in those photos was too familiar. I stopped Clay, shaking, and asked:

"Why are you lying? Those private photos, they were clearly you"

He leaned in close with a smile and dropped his voice on purpose:

"Baby, who took them doesn't matter."

"You know how vain Bridget Fox is. She goes red-eyed over a strand of hair out of place. Put her in something like that and she'd cry all night."

"Besides, you did get groped, and you did sleep with me. Those are both facts. I just put them together, that's all. Be good, when you finish running I'll take you out for a nice dinner."

I watched him high-five Bridget, the two of them laughing, deciding where to go celebrate.

I wiped my tears and dialed a number:

"Mom, I've thought it over. I want to come study abroad, over there with you."

Someone dug a clown costume out of the storage room and threw it at my feet.

It was streaked with some stain I couldn't place, damp to the touch.

The one who'd thrown it grinned as he explained:

"I was eating instant noodles this afternoon and didn't hold the bowl steady. Don't be picky, Clem."

"Anyway, I hear rich guys really let loose, they pour red wine and stuff all over the girls, right? You must be used to that by now."

"Of course, if you'd rather go streaking we don't mind either. We'd get to admire the design department's campus beauty, oh wait, campus escort, hahaha."

The smell of the noodle broth mixed with the leers of those boys.

It sat heavy in my chest until I could hardly breathe.

The truth was, that night at the bar, Clay had happened to show up in time, stopped it, and called the police. Nothing had actually happened.

But I'd been terrified all the same, terrified the story would spread and I'd become someone people pointed at.

He was the one who'd promised, out of his own mouth, to keep it secret for me.

And now he was the one nailing me to the pillory as a "slut."

When I came out of the restroom in the costume, Clay was waiting by the door.

"Relax, I was watching the door for you. Wasn't going to let those punks peek."

"I told them, too, not to go running their mouths about it."

They should have been such considerate words. All I felt was cold.

I tilted my face up at him:

"So that night, when you said you'd been drugged, that was a lie. You just wanted me asleep so you could take the photos and help Bridget win the election. Right?"

In all the years Clay and I had been secretly dating, we'd never once crossed that line.

Until a few nights ago, when he suddenly called me, saying that while he was out chasing sponsors for a campus event, someone had slipped something into his drink.

He'd looked so pitiful, begging me to help him. I gave in.

I never imagined it was a trap he'd built for me, piece by careful piece.

Before Clay could say anything, Bridget's eyes went red first.

"Clem, don't blame Clay. He was just afraid of me losing face."

"Or, here, give me the costume, I'll run for you. So what if people laugh at me"

Clay frowned and stopped her:

"Run? Since when could a little vanity queen like you stand wearing something that ugly?"

"Besides, your stamina's worse than Clem's. Just sit tight."

He turned and looked me over, displeased:

"Clementine Sullivan, stop being so calculating. It's a few photos. Isn't it enough that I know you're innocent?"

"Not everyone came up the way you did, out of an orphanage. Bridget's parents, her whole family, know she's running for vice president. If she loses, where's she supposed to put her face?"

My heart clenched all at once, so hard I couldn't get a breath around the pain.

I never knew that at some point coming from an orphanage had become a crime.

September in Ashford, the evenings were still unbearably muggy.

On the sixth lap my vision went dark in waves and I pitched forward onto the ground.

Behind me, Clay's voice, all worry: "You okay? You're not hurt?"

I turned my head without thinking, and froze.

One of his hands was holding a cold drink for Bridget, the other stroking her back, gentle.

His eyes on her, exasperated and doting all at once.

"Slow down, no one's fighting you for it. See? You choked on it."

"Two more sips, that's all. Your stomach's bad. Too much cold stuff and you'll feel awful."

Not once, the whole time, did he look at me.

Just then a few freshmen fresh out of military orientation walked by, recognized Clay, and greeted him, thrilled and envious.

"Clay, is this your girlfriend? Wow, you two are perfect together, wishing you a lifetime of happiness!"

The others joined in, teasing:

"Oh come on, three years of watching you two rub it in, and you're still not sick of each other?"

"Confess. You've secretly been together this whole time, haven't you? Doesn't matter, you're buying us a late-night snack tonight!"

I watched Clay and Bridget share a smile.

Not one of them denied it.

The burning in my throat, from how parched I was, spread down into every part of me.

After that night at the hotel, I'd asked Clay if we could make our relationship public.

He'd only frowned and said:

"Clem, we're both in student council. We have to avoid suspicion."

"Otherwise people will think I'm the president abusing my position to help my girlfriend get ahead. Let's wait until after graduation."

So it turned out it was never about avoiding suspicion.

It was only that the person he wanted to go public with was someone else.

Quietly, I took out my phone and opened that familiar profile picture:

Mom, I've thought it over. I want to come study abroad, over there with you.

2: 2

Two months ago, my biological mother found me.

She lives in the West now, and she had been wanting to bring me over to study abroad.

But I couldn't bear to leave Clay, so I kept putting her off, and I never got around to telling him any of it.

Now there was no point.

I forced myself through the last lap, planning to go straight back to the dorm and rest.

But Clay said everyone was heading to a restaurant to celebrate Bridget, and I had to come along.

My head was spinning, and cold pangs kept rolling through my lower belly. On top of that, I wasn't even on the student council anymore. I meant to say no.

Clay frowned and cut in.

"Bri thinks of you as her best friend. That's the only reason she invited you. And you're going to fake being sick just to ruin it for her? If you don't come, she'll be hurt."

"Besides, that whole thing earlier was just people running their mouths. You don't need to take it to heart."

"Clem, you lost the bet, so own it. Don't make everyone think you can't handle losing. Go change, and don't keep them waiting."

In the end, he dragged me to the restaurant anyway.

Once the food was on the table, someone shot Clay a knowing look.

"Clay, didn't you get Bridget a celebration gift? What are you waiting for?"

Clay raised an eyebrow and pulled a jewelry box out of his coat.

He opened it, and inside was a delicate diamond bracelet.

Bridget clapped a hand over her mouth in delight, and the others shrieked.

"Oh my God, isn't that a piece from that little jewelry exhibition the other day? That's got to be over four hundred grand, right?"

"No wonder Clay put in the money his family gave him for a car, and even sold that new watch of his. Bridget really does have it going on."

I froze and glanced at Clay's wrist without thinking.

Bare, just as they said.

Last year Clay had had his eye on a watch.

His family was comfortable enough, but not so comfortable that they'd casually drop a hundred thousand on a watch.

I was the one who worked part-time jobs for a year and a half, took a few small design commissions on the side.

Then I pulled part of it from the allowance my mother wired me, and finally gave it to him a few weeks ago for his birthday.

Back then he was so happy he'd spun me around in his arms, saying he'd treasure it, that he'd keep it until he was eighty.

And now he'd sold it, for Bridget?

All at once my stomach turned violently.

I shot to my feet, the chair scraping with an awful screech, and everyone stared at me, startled.

I couldn't stop to explain. I ran to the restroom outside and dry-heaved until there was nothing left.

When I came out, Clay was standing in the doorway with a dark look on his face, and the first thing out of his mouth was an accusation.

"Clementine, how long are you going to keep sulking?"

"Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for Bri when you just walked out like that in front of everyone? She thinks you're still angry. Her eyes were red."

"You're going to go back in and apologize to her."

I found it almost funny.

"You sold the watch I worked so hard to buy, to get another girl a gift, and I'm not allowed to be angry?"

"Clay, do you even remember today is our fifth anniversary?"

Clay went blank for a moment, then his frown dug in deeper. "Can you stop being so unreasonable? Who said I forgot?"

He shoved a document envelope into my arms.

"Aren't you planning to do jewelry design after graduation?"

"Here. I took these photos for you at the exhibition. That's enough for you to study and work from for a while."

I looked at those photos and laughed.

"So Bridget gets a diamond bracelet worth hundreds of thousands, and all I'm worth is a stack of photos you snapped in passing?"

"Clay, who exactly is your girlfriend here?"

A wave of irritation rose in Clay's face.

"Everything was fine. Why are you bringing this up now?"

"We can celebrate an anniversary every year. But today matters to Bridget. She's wanted that bracelet for ages, and you, her so-called best friend, did nothing. Somebody had to show some care to your friend for you."

"It's just a piece of jewelry. You'd even fight her over that? Fine, once I'm working I'll get you something better. Money, money, money, that's all you talk about. Clem, we haven't even started real life yet. Don't turn into someone this materialistic!"

I stood there, staring, as he turned and stormed off in a temper.

But this was never about the bracelet.

When I got back to the private room, the door was half open, and inside they were playing a spin-the-wheel game.

Bridget's spin had landed on choosing someone of the opposite sex to kiss for three minutes.

Refuse, and you had to down a beer.

She caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye and made a show of being torn.

"Oh, this... My stomach hasn't been great today... but I think I'll just drink."

She'd barely reached for it when Clay snatched the glass away.

"You already don't feel well, and you're going to drink? Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

With that, he cupped the back of Bridget's head and kissed her, right there.

3: 3

Bridget's eyes swept over to me, and there was nothing left of the old warmth or friendliness.

Only the taunt of a winner.

I couldn't watch anymore, so I turned and stumbled out of the hotel.

But the moment I stepped through the doors, the pain low in my belly kept sharpening, and my head spun worse and worse.

The world went black, and I passed out.

When I opened my eyes again, some kind stranger had already brought me to the hospital.

A nurse hooked up my IV, scolding me the whole time.

"What is wrong with you, little miss? Cramps this bad, and you go do something that intense?"

"It's this hot out, and you can still get heatstroke and dehydrated at night, you know that? I asked around for you. Nobody had any pads, so I put a medical bed pad under you. Call your family and have them bring you a pack. Your pants are ruined too."

It hadn't even occurred to me that the stomach pain was my period coming early.

Maybe it was the IV, but my bladder felt uncomfortably full.

The state I was in, though, there was no way I could get to the bathroom on my own.

I thought about it, and the restaurant where Clay and the others were was the closest place to me.

I called Clay.

The first calls all went dead. It wasn't until the tenth that he finally picked up.

Embarrassed, I kept my voice low.

"Clay, I fainted from cramps. I'm at the hospital. Could you bring me a pack of pads?"

"And a pair of pants, the cheap kind is fine..."

Clay cut me off, impatient.

"Clementine, are you ever done putting on a show?"

"Bri's having a great time right now. You really can't stand to see her happy? Enough. I don't have the time or the patience to deal with you."

The call cut off without mercy, and the flat dial tone buzzed in my ear.

In the end it was the academic advisor who got my plea for help. She grabbed her own sweatpants and rushed over, staying with me all night.

When I was discharged the next day, she asked me one more time to be sure.

"Clem, are you certain you want to file to withdraw?"

I opened my phone. Clay hadn't called back, hadn't sent a single message.

The only thing there was a post from the classmate who'd egged him on to give the gift the night before.

Let's all congratulate the happy couple. Wedding night tonight~

The photo was Clay walking a slightly tipsy Bridget into the hotel.

Bridget had replied underneath with a laughing-crying face and a shy one.

Clay had answered.

Knock it off, delete that for Daddy right now. You know how thin-skinned Bri is.

But he didn't deny a word of that caption.

I stared at that reply for a long time.

Then I put my phone away and pulled my mouth into something like a smile for the advisor.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

I went with the advisor to the office and filled out the withdrawal paperwork.

But when I got back to the dorm, I found all my things dumped outside the door.

Even my blanket was soaked, reeking of disinfectant.

I frowned at my three roommates. "What's this supposed to mean?"

The room leader kicked a chair over and jabbed a finger in my face.

"You've still got the nerve to ask? Your good friend Bridget told us everything. Your private life is a mess, and you only got back from the hospital this morning because you caught some filthy disease. How do you have the face to still live in this dorm? You're trying to get us all sick!"

"We are not living with a dirty thing like you. Grab your stuff and get out, fast, or I'll report you to the school!"

I froze, unable to make sense of it for a moment.

In the end it was Gwyneth Finch, the roommate I got along with best, who pulled me out into the hall and warned me quietly.

"Clem, this morning Bridget suddenly posted some... um, pretty revealing photos of you in our department group chat."

"She deleted them fast, but a lot of people still saw them. Everyone got worked up and threw all these questions at her. Just look for yourself. You'll understand."

Confused, I opened the thousand-person group chat I'd always kept muted.

When I saw what was inside, my head roared.

Whoa, who knew Clementine had a body like that? Bet she's got plenty of clients.

I heard someone saw the advisor picking her up from the hospital this morning, and she wasn't even in the same pants as last night. Did she get busted in a prostitution sweep? That rough, playing so hard she landed in the hospital?

Ugh, so dirty, so gross. What if she's got something contagious... moment of silence for her roommates.

To all of this, Bridget posted a shushing face.

Oh come on, my hand really did slip. Just pretend you didn't see it.

Clem's got no mom or dad. Making a little money isn't easy for her. As for whether she's actually caught anything... I can't really give away someone's private business. Anyway, I hope nobody discriminates against her, but do protect yourselves. Be careful about hygiene every day.

I didn't even need to look to know what those few messages Bridget had recalled at the very top were.

They had to be the photos Clay put up on the big screen last night.

The messages after that, I could no longer read.

My whole body was shaking hard, and only one thing filled my head.

Clay had forwarded those photos to Bridget.

This was the man who'd said no one would ever pass them around.

4: 4

I found Bridget on duty in the student council office.

Another student was still gossiping away with her.

"Bri, is that thing about Clementine really true? And you're still friends with her? Doesn't it disgust you?"

Bridget spread her hands helplessly.

"There are photos. Proof. I'm the worst liar in the world."

"What can I say, I just feel sorry for her. I heard her mom was a hooker who died of some filthy disease, that's why her dad dumped her at the orphanage. Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

Rage shot straight to the top of my skull, and I kicked the door open.

"You're lying. My mother is nothing like what you said. I won't let you insult her!"

I rushed up to Bridget and raised my hand high.

But the next second, someone shoved me to the floor.

Clay glared at me, eyes blazing.

"Clementine, what the hell has gotten into you?!"

My forehead hit the corner of the desk, and heat rushed out at once.

The blood on my face startled Clay, and he reached for me, panicked.

"Clem Clem, are you okay? I didn't mean to"

But Bridget grabbed his arm and started crying, the picture of wounded innocence.

"Clay, I was afraid Clementine was still angry, so I went to her dorm this morning to apologize."

"I was worried people would spread rumors about last night, so I even explained things for her in our own department's group chat. But instead of appreciating it, she stole the bracelet you gave me."

"I didn't want it to blow up and hurt her, so I thought I'd just call her over on her own. We're friends, so if she just gave it back, I'd let it go. But she actually tried to hit me"

As she spoke, she shot a look at the other student.

The girl was her friend, and she nodded on cue. "Yeah, I saw it with my own eyes. Clementine stole the bracelet!"

She snatched my bag without a word and dumped it upside down.

And there was the bracelet, mixed right in with everything else.

I turned to Clay in a panic, trying to explain. "I didn't, she was the one who said"

"Enough!"

Clay cut me off, his eyes full of disappointment.

"Clementine, Bri thinks about you at every turn, and you just have to make trouble for her. You'd even steal from your own friend? Do you really hate seeing her happy that much?"

"You really are trash with no parents. No manners at all. Apologize to Bri right now!"

I stared at him, unable to believe it.

Back before I found my mother, when people called me a bastard, I felt small too, and I envied everyone who had family to love them.

It was Clay who had held me close and said,

"Clem, you're the most wonderful girl I've ever met. To me, you're better than anyone who has parents."

"From now on, I'm your family. I'll love you double, enough to make up for your parents too."

So it's true. The person who knows you best,

is the one who knows exactly where to sink the knife.

I looked at him without any expression. "And if I won't?"

Clay gave me a long look, then turned to the others who had come running.

"Call the police. Now."

"And put it on the PA. Announce it school-wide: Clementine Sullivan from the design department is a thief."

Someone tried to talk him down. "Clay, are you sure? This way Clementine won't just get a major demerit."

"She'll have a record too, and it could hurt her chances of finding a job later. The bracelet's already been found anyway, so maybe"

Clay's face was cold.

"No. She dares to steal Bri's things now. Who knows what she'll do to hurt her later."

"She needs to learn her lesson so she'll finally straighten out."

Soon the whole school knew I was a thief.

Amid all the cursing, as the police were taking me to the car,

Clay chased after me and said in a low voice,

"Clem, Bri has a good heart. She's willing to settle with you. But because the bracelet is fairly valuable, you'll have to stay inside for a month before you can be released on bail."

"Use these days to reflect on yourself. I'm doing this for your own good. A record doesn't scare me. Worst case, I'll support you in the future."

Watching him choose without a moment's hesitation to believe Bridget, without a single thought for my future,

I let out a soft laugh.

"Clay, let's break up."

Clay froze, and by the time he wanted to say something, the car door had already shut in his face.

Watching the car pull away, he suddenly felt an emptiness he couldn't explain.

As if he were about to lose something.

Inside the car, I turned to the young officer beside me.

"Hello. I have solid proof that I'm innocent."

An hour later, I was released without charge.

I called the academic advisor and asked her to mail my withdrawal papers overseas once they were approved.

Then I boarded a flight to another country, alone.

This was a place I couldn't stand to be in for even another moment.

Three days later, Clay had no morning classes and wanted to visit me at the station, but he ran into my academic advisor in the hallway.

When she heard his plan, she frowned.

"You don't need to go. The police already found out Clementine was innocent."

"She left to study abroad that same day."