The Night He Forged My Signature, I Confirmed My Exchange Spot Chapter 01

The Night He Forged My Signature, I Confirmed My Exchange Spot Chapter 01

On the night results came out, I got into the exact university Nathan and I had promised to attend together.

I grabbed my score printout and drove to his house, ready to tell him we could finally stop waiting.

The front door was cracked open.

Through the gap, I heard his friends egging him on inside.

“Nathan, are you really going overseas with Megan?”

Nathan’s low mm-hmm carried through the hall.

“She wouldn’t handle being alone over there. I can’t just leave her.”

Someone hesitated. “What about Bethany, though? She changed her whole first-choice application for you.”

Nathan paused. “Bethany’s steady. Her grades are solid, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“She won’t break down the way Megan does without someone there.”

Megan’s voice came through, soft and fragile. “But she’s your girlfriend.”

Nathan let out a faint laugh. “She understands. Besides, one year with Megan, and I’ll come back and make it up to Bethany. She’ll be fine.”

I stood outside the door, my printout crinkling in the wind.

That university name on the paper had been the finish line I’d run toward through endless sleepless nights.

But in Nathan’s mind, my future was something he could just set aside for twelve months.

My phone buzzed.

The deadline to confirm my overseas exchange slot was three hours away.

I folded the old team hoodie with his name scribbled on the cuff into the bottom of my suitcase.

Snow hadn’t even started falling yet.

But that part of my life already felt frozen over.

***

I was dragging my suitcase down the front steps when Nathan’s call lit up my screen.

I stared at it for a long moment, then picked up.

His voice came through, flat and even. “Were you just here?”

I gripped the handle. “Yeah. Wanted to show you my scores.”

A beat of silence. “Then why didn’t you come in?”

I glanced at the broken porch light that hadn’t worked in two weeks. “Wind was bad out here. I just headed back.”

Nathan exhaled, like he’d been holding tension. “Don’t overthink it. They were just messing around. Megan’s been emotionally all over the place, so I drove her home. That’s all.”

I didn’t ask which part was supposed to be the joke.

The overseas plan, or the part where he’d come back to fix me.

Megan’s voice cut in through the speaker, thin and urgent. “Nathan, the print shop’s closing in five minutes, and I haven’t signed my confirmation form yet.”

He dropped his voice for her. “Hold on, I’m coming with you.”

Then back to me, quick and distracted. “Bethany, just go home for now. Don’t be late for the senior banquet tomorrow. I have something for you.”

I stared at the exchange program page still open on my phone.

The confirm button was blinking, waiting.

“Nathan,” I said slowly, “what if I have something important to confirm tonight too?”

He sounded genuinely confused. “Like what?”

I pulled my suitcase against the wall. “Nothing.”

He let out a short laugh. “See, that’s what you do—start a sentence and then drop it. Just be good for one night, okay? I really don’t have time to talk you through this right now.”

The line went dead.

He used to hate it when I went quiet like this.

Sophomore year, after I bombed a major competition, I sat on the bleachers until dark. He’d draped his hoodie over my shoulders and frowned down at me. “Bethany, if you can’t cry, then talk. Don’t bottle it up.”

I’d washed that hoodie so many times after.

Inside the cuff, there was a tiny line I’d written in permanent marker.

[Nathan.]

Back then, I thought that was the most careful claim I could make on someone.

Now it lay at the bottom of my suitcase, like a keepsake from a chapter that had already closed.

My phone buzzed again.

The exchange office reminder: [Please complete confirmation within three hours. Failure to do so will result in forfeiture.]

I opened the page, ready to key in the verification code.

But the system flagged something else—a pending withdrawal request already on file.

[Applicant name: Bethany Krause.]

I stared at that line, my palms turning cold.

I’d never submitted anything.

At the bottom of the page, under emergency contact, it read: [Nathan Holloway.]

I typed out a message: [Why is there a withdrawal request on my exchange application?]