Chapter 1: Cantaloupe Wars and Campus Scandals

Running at night on the track—sometimes that's the only way to clear my head.

The stadium lights sliced through the darkness, casting long, jagged shadows across the lanes as I pushed through another lap. Sweat prickled at my hairline, but I didn’t mind—this was my moment to unwind, to finally get some quiet. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I slowed to a jog, grinning as Mariah’s name lit up my screen.

She always called at the weirdest times—like she had some kind of sixth sense for when I needed a break. Her voice came through the line, bright and teasing, even with all the background noise in the night.

"Did you open your cantaloupe yet?" Mariah’s words practically bounced through the phone, and I could picture her smirking.

She was obsessed. Ever since that time I bought a cantaloupe that was basically a bowling ball—seriously, it could’ve broken a window—I kept complaining about it. The more I ranted, the funnier it got, until it became our running joke. So, naturally, we made a plan at 2 a.m.—the best time for questionable decisions—to each order another one from some random Instagram shop.

We tracked the delivery like hawks. The box landed in the mailroom that afternoon, and I practically sprinted back to the dorm with it tucked under my arm, ignoring the way my RA stared at me like I was smuggling contraband fruit. I was dying to slice it open, but I couldn’t resist having a little fun with Mariah first—she deserved it.

But hey, why not have a little fun? I decided to keep Mariah guessing.

"I opened it this afternoon, but it wasn’t great. How about you?" I said, trying to sound casual.

I could almost hear her rolling her eyes. But Mariah was never one to let me off easy. She fired back, proud as ever, "I got four wedges of fruit."

As soon as she said "four wedges," I nearly did a fist pump right there on the track.

I won!

I did a little victory shuffle in my sneakers, grinning so wide it hurt. "I got one more than you—five wedges!"

Mariah was indignant, practically gasping: "But my four wedges are all huge!"

I shot back, "My five wedges are big, too!"

Mariah huffed, "I don’t believe you!"

I snorted. "I’ll take a picture when I get back and show you how big they are!"

She was so mad she was practically panting. "Next time! Next time I’ll definitely beat you!"

Honestly, that’s just how it is with your best friend—gotta compete till the bitter end.

The whole conversation was ridiculous—I actually laughed out loud, feeling lighter than I had all day. Only Mariah could turn a fruit competition into an epic saga. In the end, we couldn’t help ourselves—we ended up hyping up our new cantaloupes anyway.

"These payback cantaloupes are so good—seriously, it’s like they knew we needed a win!"

"You get what you pay for, right? Guess you have to shell out for the good stuff."

"Next time, let’s go find an even better one. There’s gotta be a perfect cantaloupe out there somewhere."

I was strolling leisurely around the outer track, still giggling to myself, when I suddenly felt like someone was behind me—a prickly chill ran up my spine, making my skin crawl.

The hairs on my neck stood up. I slowed my pace, glancing over my shoulder. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist, swallowing the light. Crap!

Oh, crap!

Did I just run into some creep? My stomach did a backflip. Instinct took over—I cut Mariah off mid-sentence, trying to sound way more chill than I felt.

"Hey, something just came up—I’ll call you later, okay?" I said, voice pitching higher than I meant.

Right then, my brain was spinning like a blender on turbo—thoughts whirring, everything blurring together.

My mind was racing in every direction, but I forced myself to pick the simplest solution—just face it head-on.

I spun around on my heel, heart hammering.

And yelled, "Who’s there!"

Sure enough, the person behind me jumped, startled.

"It’s me!"

I squinted in the harsh stadium lights—it was my ex-boyfriend, Carter, looking all dramatic and mysterious.

Of course. Only Carter would lurk in the shadows like some B-movie villain. He stood there, face half in shadow, looking way more intense than usual—almost creepy, honestly.

I asked, "Why are you following me?"

Carter’s voice came out weirdly controlled, almost tight.

"I heard everything you just said!"

Something was definitely off, but I doubted it had anything to do with me.

He pressed, "Is that the reason you broke up with me?"

I hesitated, but since he already seemed to know, what was the point in hiding it? I nodded, slow and steady.

Last month, Mariah told me cantaloupes were in season. So I’d asked Carter if he wanted some. I mean, couples should get each other, right? If you share the same weird cravings, that’s basically soulmates.

I didn’t expect him to react like he’d been poisoned. "I’m not eating that. If anyone dares to eat cantaloupe in front of me, I’ll throw them out along with the cantaloupe!"

Uh…

Should I just wait for him to throw me out?

Nope. I dumped him first, obviously.