The Group Chat Without Me

Growing up, I always had four boys around me.

They were the most popular guys in school. Friday night football games, weekend pool parties, even who got to sit at their lunch table—people cared about all of it.

But the spot next to them was always saved for me.

My locker was stocked with snacks they'd shoved in there. My phone was full of goofy photos of them from games.

After every party, someone would drape a varsity jacket over my shoulders and walk me home.

So when college acceptances came out, they spread four Stanford letters in front of me and asked if I dared to give up Harvard and go to California with them. I barely hesitated.

We even made a group chat called "Five on the West Coast."

I shared dorm photos, orientation events, even made a road trip route map across the country.

Until the night of the graduation party. Claude lent me his tablet to pick songs, and I saw a chat window he hadn't logged out of.

[So all four of us are staying in Boston with Chloe, and only Vivian actually paid the Stanford deposit?]

[She even made the road trip playlist. When are you guys going to tell her?]

[After she gets to California. If we tell her now, she'll freak out.]

[Vivian can make friends on her own. Chloe can't even go to the cafeteria by herself. She needs us more.]

[Relax. Didn't Claude give Vivian a promise ring and say he'd propose after graduation? She won't break up over four years long-distance.]

I looked down at the ring on my hand.

Last week, Claude was wearing my graduation cap, kissing me on camera, saying what he looked forward to most was starting college together.

Turned out I was the only one who believed it.

They didn't know that a few days ago, I'd already accepted a summer research program in Switzerland recommended by my Stanford advisor.

The flight was booked for three days from now.

I deleted that five-person road trip route map.

This time, I wasn't going to wait for them to come pick me up.

---

The projector screen in the living room was still frozen on that line:

[She even made the road trip playlist. When are you guys going to tell her?]

I stood by the sofa, Claude's tablet in my hands.

A few minutes ago, I'd been picking songs for the graduation party. After the tablet connected to the projector, message after message popped up. I opened that group chat—the one without me—and read through how they'd planned to send me to California alone.

The door opened behind me.

Jack came in carrying a bucket of ice. Hunter had a few bottles of non-alcoholic sparkling wine. Ethan stepped aside to let Chloe in first. Claude came last, a pack of red party cups in his hand.

Everyone froze.

Graduation banners still hung outside the door. On the coffee table were the freshman welcome boxes we'd planned to open together tonight.

Mine was from Stanford.

Theirs were all from Harvard.

Claude put the cups down first.

After four years as student council president, he was very good at speaking when everyone else was panicking.

"Okay." He glanced at the screen. "We were going to tell you tonight."

"Tell me what?"

"We decided to stay."

Chloe moved closer to him.

Claude continued, "She doesn't want to start college alone. She finally has friends here. We can't just leave her."

I looked at him.

"So you can leave me?"

"It's not leaving." His tone was like correcting an obvious mistake. "Viv, you're different from her. You can make friends anywhere."

I held up the printed enrollment confirmation from the coffee table.

Before the decision deadline, the four of them had sat in my kitchen with papers just like this, watching me press the button to decline Harvard.

"Who did this?"

Claude glanced at it.

"I changed it."

"So you never confirmed Stanford."

"We just needed you to make a decision first."

My fingertips went cold.

That day, they'd even applauded me. Jack opened the fridge for soda. Hunter filmed me pressing the button, saying he'd put it in our college graduation memory video.

So even that video was part of the joke.

"That night at truth or dare, making me say 'I'm not going anywhere but California' in front of everyone—was that planned too?"

Chloe pressed her lips together.

Jack immediately set the ice bucket on the floor and stepped in front of her.

"It was all of our idea. Don't stare at her."