Chapter 3

Liam's apartment was packed with people, beer, pizza, and a giant TV screen. It was my first time officially attending this kind of all-hands gathering as "Ethan's girlfriend." To fit in, I had done my homework and researched the history of the team Ethan supported.

But I still lost.

When I walked in wearing a standard team T-shirt, I saw Chloe.

She was wearing a vintage, distressed jersey. It was a 1998 limited edition, the very style Ethan had spent three whole years searching for but never found.

"Cool, right?" Chloe noticed Ethan's eyes glazing over and spun around triumphantly. "I camped on eBay for three months to win this bid. Ethan, this is your size, by the way."

The light in Ethan's eyes was unmistakable; it was the desire for a beloved object. Chloe caught this. She walked over and bumped Ethan's shoulder like a buddy. "If we win tonight, I'll lend you this jersey to wear home."

The surrounding "bro squad"—Liam and Noah—erupted in jeers and applause.

"Chloe really knows ball!" Liam laughed, slapping his thigh. "Olivia, you probably don't know the gold standard of this shirt; it's practically the Holy Grail!"

I stood there, holding the premium craft beer I had bought for everyone, feeling like an over-packaged fool.

"It is really great," I smiled, placing the beer on the table.

All night, Chloe was clustered in the center of the men like a queen. She loudly discussed tactics, shouted profanities, and high-fived them. Whenever I tried to interject with something like "That was good defense," Chloe would turn around and say in a tone reserved for kindergarteners: "Oh, honey, that's called a 'Blitz.' It's not just simple defense. But it's great that you can see where the ball is."

But I noticed Chloe's attention wasn't entirely on the game. Her eyes drifted between Ethan and Liam, like a cat selecting its prey.

During halftime, Liam got up to get a beer. Chloe followed him almost instantly. In the kitchen, I glimpsed her body brushing against Liam's back, intentionally or not, as she reached for a bag of chips on a high shelf.

"Let me help you." Liam's voice was a bit husky.

"Thanks," Chloe smiled. As she turned, her hand lightly grazed Liam's chest. "Muscles are coming along nicely."

Liam's ears turned red.

Back in the living room, Chloe naturally sat in the spot next to Liam—leaving only one person's distance from Ethan. When the team scored, she jumped up excitedly, hugged Ethan first, then turned to Liam and gave him a tighter, longer hug.

Noah whistled. "Chloe, do you have a crush on our Liam?"

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Piss off, this is brotherly love, okay?"

But her hand didn't immediately leave Liam's shoulder. And Liam, usually the carefree fitness trainer, looked a bit constrained, seemingly afraid to look Chloe in the eye.

What disgusted me even more was the movie theater incident two weeks later.

It was the premiere of a highly discussed film, and we had struggled to get tickets. The lights dimmed, and the movie began.

Chloe just happened to be there, too. She and her friends were sitting in the row behind us, but five minutes into the movie, claiming someone was blocking her view, she switched to the empty seat next to Ethan.

When the giant sandworm appeared in the movie, the sound effects were deafening. I felt Ethan's body suddenly tense up. By the faint light reflecting off the screen, I saw a hand—painted with black nail polish—tightly clutching Ethan's arm.

Ethan yanked his arm back almost instantly, the movement so violent he hit the armrest. He quickly reached over, interlacing his fingers tightly with mine; his palm was covered in cold sweat.

"Don't touch me," I heard Ethan whisper, his voice laced with anger.

"I'm scared!" Chloe's voice sounded as aggrieved as if she had been terribly bullied. "Didn't I always grab you during horror movies before?"

"Shut up and watch the movie." Ethan ignored her, but he didn't let go of my hand, which was even trembling slightly.

However, in the second half of the movie, I noticed Chloe's attention had shifted. Her phone screen lit up occasionally in the dark, and her gaze was cast toward a figure sitting a few rows ahead of us.

That was Liam. He had come with a few friends, too.

When a particularly terrifying scene appeared, Chloe suddenly stood up, pretending to go to the restroom. As she passed Liam's row, she seemed to trip over something and fell right into Liam's lap.

Even in the dim light, I could see Liam's body stiffen instantly, and his hands reflexively holding Chloe's waist.

"Sorry, sorry!" Chloe's voice was exceptionally clear in the quiet theater, but she didn't stand up immediately. Instead, she whispered something in Liam's ear, causing him to chuckle quietly.

Ethan saw this too. His brows furrowed.

After the movie, near the entrance to the restrooms, I overheard a conversation between Liam and Ethan.

"Dude, you were too much back there," Liam said, blowing smoke rings. "Chloe is about to cry. She's just timid and relies on you like a brother. Do you have to guard against her like she's a thief? The boys are going to think you're 'whipped'."

"It's not about being whipped, Liam," Ethan sounded exhausted. "It's about respect. Olivia was sitting right there."

"Come on, Olivia is just too sensitive. If she were confident enough, she wouldn't mind this stuff at all."

I stood around the corner, the cold wind chilling my spine. So in their eyes, maintaining boundaries was called "sensitive," and having no sense of propriety was called "being real."

But I also noticed that when Liam said these things, his eyes were darting around. He stubbed out his cigarette and patted Ethan's shoulder. "But seriously, Chloe has been a bit... weird lately. She called me in the middle of the night yesterday saying the lightbulb in her house broke and asked if I could change it."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "And then?"

"I went," Liam shrugged. "But the bulb wasn't broken at all. She just wanted someone to drink with her. She got drunk and cried, saying she felt like everyone was drifting away from her."

"She needs to understand that some relationships change with time," Ethan said.

"I know, but..." Liam hesitated. "When she cried on my shoulder, I felt... kind of bad for her. She's been our friend for so many years, after all."

In that moment, I suddenly understood Chloe's deeper strategy. She wasn't simply fighting for Ethan; she was weaving a web to ensnare all the men. Ethan was the primary target, but Liam was her backup plan, and perhaps even a tool to provoke Ethan.

Fortunately, Ethan was thoroughly disgusted by Chloe's behavior. But for me, that wasn't enough. After all, no one could tolerate a member of the opposite sex flirting with their boyfriend every day under the guise of friendship.

But I hadn't found the right opportunity to strike back.

Until Ethan's friend's girlfriend—Sophia—sent me a message.