I Was the One They Were Willing to Lose Chapter 01

I Was the One They Were Willing to Lose Chapter 01

At the party after finals, the five of us who’d grown up together started playing the Sync Game.

First round. My best friend Poppy Ashford asked the question.

“If one of us got stranded out in the middle of nowhere at midnight, who would you go save first?”

The three boys who had been dubbed my childhood fiancés wrote down her name. In perfect, damning unison.

Someone hooted about how in sync they were.

Poppy flushed and explained, “Probably because I’m the biggest scaredy-cat. Wren’s tough enough she doesn’t need saving.”

They all nodded along.

They’d forgotten that when I was sixteen, stranded on a mountainside, it was the three of them who came looking for me through a storm, then argued over who’d carry me down.

Back then, they’d all said: “No matter what happens, we’ll always choose you first.”

Second round. My turn to ask.

I looked at them, smiled, and read the question off the card.

“If only four out of the five of us can go to college together, who would you leave behind?”

The private room went dead silent.

Poppy bit her lip and was the first to flip her card up. It had her own name on it.

Then the other three flipped theirs.

All three said me.

Beckett Hale, the one who doted on me most, spoke first.

“It’s just a game. You’re not actually going to take it seriously, right?”

Julian Marsh chimed in.

“Poppy’s not strong, physically. She can’t handle going to a strange city alone.”

Griffin Chase ruffled my hair, his voice as gentle as always.

“Besides, you’re applying to State anyway. Even if we’re technically down a person, you’d still go home every night. It’s not like we’re really leaving you behind.”

I looked at the four cards and, after a moment, laughed too.

They had no idea.

That local university they’d already picked out for me? I’d never once put it on my application.

That night, Griffin messaged me privately.

[Don’t let a game get you down.]

[The five of us are going to stay together no matter what.]

I didn’t reply.

I just looked at the screen—the school roughly 1,700 miles from here—and hit final submit.

—

The submission confirmation screen lingered.

Not until the screen went dark did I finally see my own face reflected in it.

No tears. Not even as much grief as I’d expected.

Turns out when disappointment piles up high enough, the moment you actually decide to leave, your heart goes strangely calm.

My phone buzzed, over and over.

In the group chat, Beckett posted a photo.

Poppy stood in front of a cake wearing a paper crown. Beckett held the crown steady for her, Julian bent down to light the candles, and Griffin still had her half-finished juice in his hand.

Under the photo, the caption read:

[Congrats to Poppy—tonight’s Queen of Sync.]

I stared at the photo for a few seconds, then turned off my phone.

Tonight wasn’t just the post-finals party. It was also my eighteenth birthday.

Poppy and I were born three days apart.

She’d said it was a hassle for everyone to sit through two birthday dinners in a row, so why not combine them. I’d agreed.

But the strawberry cake Beckett had ordered only had Poppy’s name on it. The paper crown Julian prepared—only one. Even the flowers Griffin brought were her favorite pink roses.

They hadn’t forgotten today was also my birthday.

They’d just decided I was mature enough not to make a fuss about it.

The door swung open.

Griffin walked in and set a velvet box on the table.

“Happy eighteenth.”

Inside was a silver four-leaf clover bracelet.

The design looked familiar.

At the party, Poppy had been wearing an identical one—except hers had a ring of tiny diamonds set into it.

Seeing that I hadn’t said anything, Griffin offered an explanation, his tone maddeningly casual.

“The three of us picked Poppy’s together. I liked the style, so I just grabbed one for you too, while I was at it.”

So my eighteenth birthday present was an afterthought.

I closed the box.

“Thanks.”

Griffin didn’t leave. Instead, he pulled up a chair and sat down beside me.

“Don’t take the game to heart. Poppy doesn’t have much sense of security—if none of us had picked her tonight, she’d have spiraled.”

“So you all picked me instead?”

He blinked, then laughed, a little helplessly.

“You’ve never cared about this stuff before, have you?”

Because I don’t cry, I can be the one left behind.

Because I don’t make scenes, they never have to think about how I feel.

I nodded. “You’re right.”

He visibly relaxed, his expression settling back into its usual gentleness.

“Bring your ID tomorrow, we’re going to the travel agency. Poppy wants graduation photos at the ski resort.”

“You’re the best photographer, so it’ll help to have you there.”

“Okay.”

Satisfied, Griffin ruffled my hair again and left.

After the door closed, I opened the electronic contract the travel agency had sent that afternoon.

The traveler list had four names on it.

Poppy Ashford, Beckett Hale, Julian Marsh, Griffin Chase.

My name showed up on the very last page.

Not as a traveler.

As the emergency contact.