The Girl in the Photo

I was scrolling through Reddit when I saw a photo of myself.

The caption read: [Title: My online girlfriend of one year refuses to meet me. What should I do?]

The next second, my roommate suddenly leaned in close: Guys, how can I lose 30 pounds in a month?

While I was still confused, she added: Lily, if I lose weight, do you think we'd look alike?

I stared at the Reddit post.

The comments had already piled up into a skyscraper.

[Bro, wake up. That's definitely a catfish using a stolen photo. You're being scammed!]

[She won't meet you because the photos are probably edited beyond recognition. Why else would she be scared?]

The OP was still desperately defending her: [Impossible. We've voice chatted, and she sends me selfies from different angles every day. It can't be Photoshop!]

My mind went blank.

In that photo, I was wearing my pajamas. There was no way that photo should be public.

Just then, Bella's voice floated down from the top bunk: "Guys, seriously, is it possible to lose 30 pounds in a month?"

Another roommate on the opposite bed rolled over laughing. "Why? Are you in love? Losing 30 pounds in a month? You might as well starve to death!"

Bella ignored her.

She climbed down the ladder and ran over to me.

Her gaze fixed straight on my face, scanning my features inch by inch.

I was creeped out by her staring and took a step back.

Suddenly, she spoke: "Lily, be honest. "If I lose weight, do you think we'd look somewhat alike?"

The air froze.

I looked up at her round cheeks, words stuck in my throat.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but I pushed down the rising panic.

I kept my voice steady: "Who's your boyfriend? Do we know him?"

Bella lifted her chin. "You know Sterling Real Estate? He's from that family!"

She pulled a boastful smile. "Last month he sent me a bracelet worth over a grand, and he said he'd take me to meet his parents after graduation."

My roommate snorted with laughter. "A rich kid? He must have... unique tastes."

The smugness on Bella's face instantly solidified, then her face flushed red. "What do you mean? He loves my soul!"

Her voice was shrill, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "He says I'm interesting, I understand him! I get him! What do you guys know!"

The dorm fell silent, the atmosphere awkward.

That Reddit thread was still updating.

The OP asked: [I want to surprise her. What kind of guys do girls like this go for?]

I looked up.

Looking at Bella's red nose. "Have you guys met in person? Is this an online relationship?"

The other two roommates looked at her simultaneously, waiting for an answer. "Bella, don't tell me you've never met?" "Yeah, don't tell me you're catfishing him."

It was meant as a joke, but the blood drained from Bella's face rapidly.

Her lips pressed tightly together.

A moment later, she hastily dropped a "My advisor is looking for me" and grabbed her coat, rushing out the door.

The three of us left in the dorm looked at each other.

That night, Bella couldn't help showing off again. "Ethan knew I was in a bad mood today, so he ordered me a premium sushi platter. Four figures per person!"

She brought back a takeout box that looked expensive.

But I clearly saw my name on the receipt.

The roommates exploded. "Holy crap! Ethan Sterling? Isn't he the heartthrob from F University next door?" "He's the heir to Sterling Real Estate? Bella, you caught a golden turtle!"

She laughed lightly. "Of course. My boyfriend loves me very much!"

No one needed to pry.

Bella voluntarily confessed everything about Ethan.

"My boyfriend loves gentle and considerate women like me the most. "Especially girls who love small animals."

She talked endlessly. "He says he likes me best with long hair, wearing dresses, looking clean and fresh."

"But your hair isn't long..." A roommate pointed out.

Bella choked and stopped talking.

Likes long hair, wearing dresses, right?

Well then, I'll happily accept this boyfriend.

Weekend.

I deliberately chose a white sundress.

My long hair was let down, with just a simple wooden hairpin holding up a few strands.

In the mirror, I looked like the picture of innocence.

I waited by the basketball court at F University for nearly half an hour.

Finally, Ethan walked toward the court.

Simple white T-shirt, grey sweatpants, tall and straight.

My heartbeat started to speed up, but it was mostly a strange kind of excitement.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the nervousness.

I quickened my pace, pretending to be distracted, and just as he was about to enter the court, I suddenly turned.

"Oh!"

I feigned panic.

My whole body crashed into him.

I fell precisely into his arms.

A faint scent of sandalwood filled my nose.

Reflexively, he reached out to steady my waist.

"Ah! I'm sorry!"

I exclaimed, still in his arms, my long hair cascading down.

Ethan was stunned by this sudden "attack."

He looked down at me, his eyes full of surprise.

"You..."

Just as he started to speak, I interrupted him.

"Sorry, sorry, I was in such a hurry to get back to class, I wasn't watching where I was going."

I quickly stood firm, keeping my head down, avoiding his eyes.

Leaving a hurried apology, I turned and walked away quickly.

I could feel his gaze on my back, but I walked faster.

Behind me, he seemed to be calling me, but I turned a deaf ear.

I walked briskly, heading straight for the school gate.

Behind me came the sound of hurried footsteps and shouting.

"Miss!"

I didn't stop, continuing forward.

"Miss, please wait!"

He finally caught up, grabbing my wrist.

Like a startled rabbit, I whipped my head around, my face showing just the right amount of panic.

"What... what are you doing?"

I looked at him, my eyes full of defensiveness and confusion.

Ethan was panting, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

He looked at me, his eyes holding complex emotions I couldn't read.

"I..." He seemed to be organizing his words.

I spoke first, a hint of grievance in my tone: "I apologized just now, I didn't mean to bump into you."

I lowered my head, my voice getting smaller, "Do you want something else?"

Looking pitiful, as if scared by him.

He froze.

His brows furrowed tightly, staring dead at my face, as if confirming something.

"You don't know me?"

He finally asked the question.

I looked up, blinked blankly, and then burst out laughing.

The laugh was light, with a trace of amused helplessness.

"Should we know each other?"

I tilted my head looking at him, my eyes clear and open, full of pure unfamiliarity.

"Is this the popular way guys pick up girls nowadays?"

I deliberately dragged out the tone, a bit of teasing in my smile.

With that, I didn't give him any time to react.

I pulled my wrist back and waved at him.

"I'm leaving now, bye."

I turned.

And walked toward the bus stop without looking back.

I could feel his burning gaze, but I didn't dare turn around.

My heart raced all the way back, but my face remained calm.

Pushing open the dorm door, Bella was showing off a brand new Chanel box.

"Look, Ethan sent me a New Year's gift."

She lifted her chin, unable to hide her smugness. "The latest bag, a Chanel dress, and he transferred me $5200."

I didn't speak, silently changing my shoes.

She glanced at me and clicked her tongue. "Look at you, wasting that face. All you know is working part-time jobs, you deserve to be tired."

She looked me up and down contemptuously. "You don't even know how to use your advantages."

I put down my water bottle, smiled, and didn't reply.

Just then, her phone rang.

Seeing the caller ID, a flash of panic crossed Bella's face.

She took the phone to the balcony, lowering her voice.

But I could still hear snippets, her tone urgent and fawning.

A few minutes later, she walked back in, looking grim.

"Hey," she started unnaturally, "send me a selfie of you, right now."

I knew what was happening.

"Sure." I agreed readily, not asking why.

I opened my gallery, deliberately scrolling past a few normal photos.

Finally, I picked one from before I left today, wearing the white dress, hair down, smiling at the sunlight in the most clean and harmless way.

Bella immediately looked down and tapped furiously on her phone.

I pretended to organize my things, but watched her out of the corner of my eye.

I saw her brows knitting tighter and tighter, staring at the screen, as if typing furiously at someone.

Finally, she threw her phone onto the desk in frustration.

Muttering unconsciously to herself: "What's going on... he's acting weird today."

I lowered my head, the corners of my mouth uncontrollably curling up.