Chapter <b>4 </b>
Early September in San Francisco, the breeze still carried that end–of–summer warmth.
Standing in our penthouse, I gazed out the floor–to–ceiling windows at the perfectly manicured garden below.
When our advisor posted the congrattory announcement about TechFlow hires in the group chat, my phone
buzzed with a text from Vivian:
[Jenna, you’re absolutely disgusting.]
[River treated you <i>so </i>well and you literally CHEATED on him! Over an internship? Was it worth selling yourself out?]
[No wonder you put TechFlow on your form and said River didn’t need to worry. You already had your sugar daddy lined up, didn’t you?]
I stared at those messages for a long time, finger hovering over the delete button before finally pressing it.
I thought ignoring Vivian would make her back off, but she just doubled down.
She kept going in the group chat, getting more aggressive:
[Jenna, you think ying dead will cover up the truth? River gave you everything and you pulled this behind his back. Absolutely revolting.]
I snorted. She really was worried about her precious River.
That’s when River jumped in with his own message:
[Jenna, never thought you’d literally prostitute yourself to get into TechFlow.]
I froze, and before I could even respond, River had already posted the video from move–out day–me with Sebastian.
In the clip, Sebastian’s designer suit and obvious authority made it clear he wasn’t some random guy. He kept leaning in <i>to </i>talk <i>to </i>me while handling my luggage, his attentionpletely focused on me.
Then I got into his luxury car and we drove off.
The group chat started buzzing with whispers and spection.
Someone quoted the congrattory post with obvious sarcasm:
[Jenna definitely slept her way in.]
[I checked–the official hire list doesn’t even have Jenna’s name on it.]
[Can’t believe our program produced someone like this. Don’t tell people you’re from MIT when you graduate–it’s
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embarrassing.]
[Right? People will think our school’s a total joke. Gross.]
I watched the messages flood the chat, my grip tightening on my phone.
The first batch didn’t have my name because of River and Vivian’s bullshit–but whatever.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
Even though I couldn’t care less about River and Vivian’s nder, I couldn’t let these baseless usations slide.
[River, Vivian–you two will literally stoop to anything to trash me.]
I paused, then added: [As for the TechFlow list, you both know exactly who’s taking spots they don’t deserve.]
My message sent, and the chat went dead silent for a few seconds.
But then our advisor suddenly retracted the congrattory post, which just made everyone more convinced of their nasty assumptions.
River seized the moment: [Jenna, don’t me us for calling you out. Screwing up isn’t bad–what’s bad is when nobody corrects you. It’s not toote to change.]
Vivian piled on: [Someone like you doesn’t deserve to work at TechFlow. Even if you get in, they’ll expose you eventually.]
Just as I was about to respond, the advisor kicked me out of the group chat.
The instant I got booted, I feltpletely frozen–like I’d been totally cut off from everyone.
I immediately contacted my roommate to screenshot everything as evidence.
Her profile showed “typing…” but no message came.
Finally, she sent me screenshots of the continued conversation.
Nothing but usations and insults directed at me.
After sending the screenshots, she messaged: “Jenna, please don’t contact me anymore. Hope you understand.”
I called her, but it went straight to voicemail.
A sinking feeling hit me. I tried reaching other ssmates–radio silence from everyone.
Funny how when you get angry enough, you actually startughing.
Sebastian noticed something was wrong and asked respectfully:
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“Should I handle <b>this</b>?”
I shook <b>my </b>head: “Move up the MIT recruitment start date. ASAP.”