They Called Me a Submarine. On Bid Day, I Stunned Them All Chapter 02

They Called Me a Submarine. On Bid Day, I Stunned Them All Chapter 02

The next second, Justin called.

I didn’t pick up.

He called three times in a row—then sent a voice message.

“Allie, can you stop being dramatic?”

“It’s just how the game works. I lost, so you’re temporarily paired with Finn.”

“Do three tasks tomorrow night, and it’s done.”

“We’re all going to be classmates. Don’t make me lose face.”

I almost laughed.

He gave me away like a prize—and then blamed me for embarrassing him.

I opened the couple challenge list they’d voted on.

Three tasks:

1. Feed each other cake in front of everyone.

2. Take a hand-holding photo and post it in the chat.

3. The guy has to carry the girl—ten seconds.

People were already mourning Finn.

“Damn, you all voted for the third one? That’s brutal.”

“Finn’s a gym rat, but two hundred pounds is two hundred pounds.”

“It’s fine. If he drops her, just leave her on the floor lol.”

“RIP floor.”

The guy they called Finn hadn’t said a word the whole time.

His profile picture was black.

His profile was empty.

But everyone in the chat seemed wary of him.

They threw jokes at me all day, but when they tagged him, it was all bark—no bite.

I was about to exit when my best friend Eiza video-called me.

The second I picked up, she exploded.

“Allie—that piece of shit Justin—did his brain fall out?”

“Who the hell gambles away their girlfriend?”

I blinked. “How do you know?”

“Screenshots from the group are all over Instagram. Everyone’s seen it.”

She paced across the screen.

“The guy who posted that photo of you, I already memorized his name.”

“First day of school, I’m swinging.”

I laughed.

She saw me laugh and got even more worried.

“What are you gonna do? Just post a current photo and shut them all up?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I opened my closet. My eyes ran over the dresses hanging there.

“A photo? They can edit it. Steal it. Fake it.”

“If they don’t want to believe it, they’ll find a hundred excuses.”

“I want them to see it in person. And regret it.”

Her eyes lit up. “You’re really going?”

“Yeah. I bet three thousand on myself. I’m not losing money.”

“Then you have to go.” She slapped the table.

“Not just go—show up looking so good they all choke on their own words.”

“Justin bet five grand you wouldn’t show?”

“Take his money, then post him all over Instagram so everyone can see what a piece of trash he is.”

There was a knock at the door.

My mom came in with a plate of fruit.

She saw the new clothes spread across my bed and paused.

“Is it Bid Day tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

She hesitated, then asked carefully: “Are you meeting that boy you met online?”

I went quiet.

I’d lost weight for Justin—for a year straight.

At my worst, I ate almost nothing.

Went to bed hungry every night. Took sleeping pills just to get through.

Eventually my health crashed.

My nutritionist forced me to stop. Then I started eating properly and lifting weights.

Two hundred pounds.

One seventy.

One thirty.

Finally—one ten.

My mom watched me go through seven size changes.

She saw me step on the scale over and over, eyes red and holding back tears.

She knew how much I’d been looking forward to tomorrow.

She didn’t know that hope was already dead.

She set the fruit down.

Before leaving, she touched my head.

“Allie, whatever anyone says—you’re my baby.”

“Thin, thick, pretty, plain. It doesn’t matter.”

The door clicked shut. My nose stung.

My phone buzzed.

Finn finally spoke.

He ignored all the jokes. He just said:

She’s not a bet.

The chat went dead.

A few seconds later, he tagged me.

Justin jumped in fast. “Finn, chill. It’s just a game.”

If you don’t want to come tomorrow—don’t.

Finn didn’t respond to him.

I stared at those three words—

She’s not a bet.

For the first time, I clicked on his profile.

Something about this guy felt… familiar.