# Chapter 1

It started with a missing pocket watch.

Weston Sterling had lost it, and his ride-or-die friends didn't waste a second.

They slapped together a viral bounty hunt post online:

\[If a guy finds it, come grab fifty grand from me. If a girl finds it, you get a free pass to date Weston Sterling!\]

Call it cosmic irony, but I was the one who picked it up.

I was overjoyed, thinking I was the lucky one.

Then I opened the pocket watch and found a photo of Cynthia Valentine, school's Golden Girl.

\*\*\*

In that single, devastating second, I suddenly realized.

Weston was secretly pining for Cynthia.

I clutched the cold metal of the watch, my mind going completely blank.

Just two minutes ago, I was still riding the high of a daydream, foolishly believing that my three years of silent, pathetic unrequited love might actually stand a chance.

Now? The fantasy was dead in the water.

Right on cue, Cynthia Valentine rushed through the classroom doors, looking like her world was ending. She turned to her friends, her voice tight with panic. "It's been the entire morning and still nothing! What am I supposed to do?"

"If some random girl takes that watch to Weston before I do, I'm going to lose my absolute mind."

Her friend hissed back, trying to soothe her. "But don't worry too much. Look at how many girls throw themselves at him—he never spares them a glance. This post is probably just a running joke."

Weston Sterling was the textbook definition of a golden boy. Gorgeous, filthy rich, and effortlessly sitting at the top of the academic ranks.

For as long as I could remember, he had an army of admirers tracking his every move. Cynthia was just the most visible one.

Weston had been an untouchable glacier.

But strangely enough, over the past two weeks, his icy demeanor toward Cynthia had started to thaw.

People were already placing bets, whispering that this untouchable was finally going to be brought down to earth by Cynthia Valentine.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her sigh, her long hair cascading perfectly over her shoulders. Her manicured nails looked almost ethereal.

My pen froze against my notebook.

A sudden, chilling realization hit me. This morning, I hadn't found the watch in some random hallway.

I had picked it up right next to Cynthia's desk.

Oh.

So that's how it is.

Weston hadn't lost anything. He had dropped it there on purpose. He orchestrated that entire viral post just to give her a flawless, romantic excuse to step into his life.

It was supposed to be their perfect meet-cute.

Except I had accidentally hijacked the script.

# Chapter 2

I spent the rest of the day moving like a ghost through classes.

The second the final bell rang, it felt like a prison break. I practically bolted out of the school gates until I locked myself in my bedroom.

Safely inside, I pulled up my phone and opened Snapchat. My pinned chat sat at the very top.

Weston Sterling.

A new audio message from him had arrived just two minutes ago.

\[Still playing hard to get with your name? Fine. But just so you know... I've already figured out who you are.\]

Three years ago, we had randomly connected through a Reddit forum.

Back then, I didn't have a face to match the text. I had been scammed out of some money online before, so my guard was up; I kept my identity locked down, only revealing that my family was originally from Seattle and that I was currently studying in New York.

But he had been completely transparent from day one.

\[What a coincidence, I'm in New York too. Name's Weston Sterling. Judging by how you talk, I bet we're the same age.\]

I hadn't taken it seriously. Not until my freshman year at Bridgewater Academy started, and I actually heard his name announced over the PA system.

He was infinitely more blinding in reality than he was behind a screen. In the real world, I was introverted, hyper-sensitive, and barely kept a couple of friends. Seeing him in the flesh only locked my secrets deeper in my chest.

I told myself his text was just a bluff to get me to talk. Besides, he had found his real-world muse now.

To him, I was just a nameless digital ghost.

With a heavy heart, I typed out my final reply.

\[I'm deleting this account. Let's just pretend we never met.\]

I hit send, logged out of the app entirely, and cried myself to sleep.

What else could I do?

In the blurry, half-conscious hours of the morning, a bitter thought crossed my mind: If I were a guy, I wouldn't have to deal with this heartbreak. At least I'd be walking away with fifty grand.

The next morning, after an agonizing internal battle, I decided to do the right thing.

I would put the watch back exactly where I found it.

It belonged to them, not me.

Fighting for something that was never yours is a losing game.

But the universe didn't even give me the chance to slip away.

I had only stepped to the hallway water fountain when Cynthia cornered me. She was holding the pocket watch, her eyes brimming with theatrical tears as she demanded answers.

"I've been looking for this everywhere, and it was in your desk the whole time? If I hadn't passed by your seat while cleaning up, I never would have known. Rainy Miller, do you like Weston Sterling too? Is that why you hid it?"

She was breathtakingly beautiful, and seeing her cry like a fragile porcelain doll made me realize exactly why guys lost their minds over her.

In an instant, the entire classroom went dead silent. Every single pair of eyes locked onto me.

Since starting at this school, outside of being called on by teachers, I had never pulled this kind of attention. My pulse spiked, hammering violently against my ribs.

I did love him. I loved him so much it ached.

But I was too small. Too cowardly. I couldn't own up to it.

Just as I opened my mouth to deny it, I caught sight of a figure leaning against the classroom doorframe.

Weston Sterling.

He was looking straight at me, his expression unreadable and cold. But a fraction of a second later, his gaze shifted to Cynthia, and his eyes softened into a look so tender it made my stomach drop.

I used to think "heartbreak" was just a dramatic word in romance novels. In that exact second, I felt the cold, hollow reality of it.

I forced the words out, barely recognizing my own voice.

"I just found the watch by accident. I don't care who Weston Sterling is, and I certainly don't have feelings for him."

# Chapter 3

In a single breath, I had spun a web of lies.

My only saving grace was that during our three years as online confidants, we had never hopped on a voice call. If we had, he would have recognized my voice instantly.

The tense silence in the room broke into scattered snickers.

"Exactly, Rainy Miller is just a textbook nerd. She lives under a rock; she probably doesn't even know who Weston Sterling is, let alone watch some viral thread."

"See? It was just a misunderstanding. Cynthia, look behind you—look who's here for you."

Cynthia Valentine blinked back her tears and turned around. "Weston..."

Weston walked in, his voice smooth and clear. "Yeah."

He handed her a sleek designer takeout bag. "You skipped breakfast again, didn't you? Got you your favorite croissants from that bakery downtown."

The clouds on Cynthia's face instantly vanished into a radiant smile. "But what about the bounty post? Are you going to keep your word and take Rainy Miller out?"

Weston let out a low, amused chuckle, sighing softly. "The watch was left right under your seat. You're a little klutz, you know that? Losing it so easily."

With those words, the subtext was loud and clear to everyone in the room. The whispers turned into teased cheers.

"Weston Sterling really doesn't know how to chase a girl normally. Look at this elaborate setup just to make a move!"

"Seriously, it ended up in the wrong hands and made Cynthia cry. How is he going to fix this now?"

I stood frozen in the center of the room, feeling like an absolute villain who had ruined a masterpiece.

Just as the humiliation was about to swallow me whole, Weston stepped toward me.

"Hey," he said, his tone perfectly polite but utterly distant. "The watch is mine. Thanks for picking it up. I'll have the fifty grand transferred to you as promised. Can I have it back?"

I kept my lips pressed tight, my voice a faint whisper. "Sure."

The bell rang for the next period, saving me from the suffocating air. I didn't dare look him in the eye as I blinked back tears and bolted back to my seat.

Who would have thought? The very first time I spoke to the boy I had loved in secret for years, it would be under such pathetic, humiliating circumstances.

They were the golden couple, a match made in heaven. And I was just the clown in their background.

I asked myself: Rainy Miller, your love is this humiliating. Is it really worth holding onto?

# Chapter 4

Weston Sterling and Cynthia Valentine's relationship became the loudest spectacle in school. True to his word, the fifty grand was delivered—though Weston didn't give it to me himself.

He sent his best friend, Wilder Vance.

Wilder's reputation matched his name perfectly—wild, arrogant, and entirely untamed.

That morning, right after the lunch bell, before anyone had left the classroom, he slammed through the front door. He walked straight to my desk and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Hey. Give me your Snapchat."

I froze, looking up in confusion.

He frowned slightly, scanning my face. "Your name's Rainy Miller, right? Sounds kind of poetic."

As I stared back at him, his arrogant gaze faltered for a fraction of a second.

He cleared his throat lightly, shifting his weight. "Your ID. Give it to me. And then send me your bank card number, and I'll transfer you the money."

I quickly grabbed a scrap of paper and scribbled down a secondary number. "Here."

He took it, gave me one long, unreadable look, and vanished as quickly as he had arrived.

The second his shadow cleared the door, a crowd of classmates swarmed my desk.

"Holy crap, I thought that post was just a joke! They actually paid up?"

"That's Weston Sterling we're talking about—the heir to a literal empire. Fifty grand to him is pocket change."

"I am so jealous! But honestly, Cynthia is still the real winner here. Imagine marrying into the Sterling family..."

"Speaking of which, Rainy, you owe Cynthia a massive thank-you. If she hadn't lost the watch, you wouldn't have cashed in on this free jackpot."

I had always been the quiet, invisible girl in the back. Facing this sudden spotlight made me incredibly uncomfortable.

I kept my mouth shut, offering nothing but a polite, empty smile to get them to back off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cynthia tying her hair up. Hearing the chatter, she offered a soft, effortless laugh. "Alright guys, stop gossiping."

With that, she glided out of the room.

Her hair tie was a striking sky-blue, accented with a tiny, delicate butterfly charm. It looked beautiful on her.

The irony was, I had the exact same one sitting in my drawer at home. Weston had picked it out for me over our texts. But I had been too terrified of drawing attention to ever wear it to school.

That evening, I logged into my secondary phone and saw Wilder's friend request.

Ever since discovering Weston went to my school, I had created this burner account for anyone from Bridgewater Academy to keep my world separate.

I was terrified he would connect the dots through mutual friends and find out that his witty online confidante was actually the plain, silent Rainy Miller.

But looking back, I had completely overestimated my own presence. My social circle was non-existent; I was nowhere near his radar.

Wilder Vance was the very first person on this account who had any connection to Weston Sterling.

I hit accept and sent my card number.

A second later, the transfer notification popped up.

I counted the zeros. Not a single penny missing. Fifty grand.

My finger hovered over the screen for what felt like an eternity.

\[Thank you,\] I messaged back.

I threw my phone on the bed and went to take a shower. When I came back out, I expected the chat to be dead, but a new notification flashed on the screen.

Wilder: \[Hey, sorry if I sounded like a dick today. Blame Weston. He was too damn lazy to track you down himself, so he dragged me out of my nap to do his dirty work.\]

Picturing Wilder's notoriously wild, unbothered face making excuses over text was unexpectedly funny.

I typed back: \[Don't worry about it. It's fine.\]

# Chapter 5

To be completely honest, fifty grand was a life-changing amount of money for someone like me. I didn't dare spend a single cent of it, locking it away safely in a savings account.

After that night, a strange pattern emerged. I started running into Wilder everywhere.

Waiting in line at the campus convenience store, he'd be standing right behind me. Stepping out of the classroom for air, we'd pass each other in the crowded corridors. We rarely spoke, keeping our distance, until one afternoon when we literally collided head-on.

The water from my water bottle splashed right across the front of his pristine school uniform.

He simply raised an eyebrow, entirely unfazed as he dabbing at the wet fabric with a tissue. He looked down at me with a smirk. "What a coincidence, classmate Rainy Miller."

"It's almost like the universe keeps throwing us together."

From that day on, our digital exchange slowly grew. Despite his delinquent reputation, his grades were actually phenomenal—just like Weston's. They belonged to that infuriating tier of people who were born blessed, succeeding effortlessly without breaking a sweat.

As we got comfortable, I started sending him advanced physics and math problems I couldn't solve. He never minded helping out.

Except for one evening.

I had dropped a particularly brutal geometry problem into our chat while he was in the middle of an intense gaming session with his crew. Instead of texting, his voice call snapped through my phone.

"I'm in the middle of a raid right now, hands are tied," Wilder's voice echoed, slightly breathless. "But Weston is sitting right next to me. I'll have him talk you through it."

Hearing that name, my grip tightened around my phone. My heart violently slammed against my ribs, and my throat went completely dry.

"No, wait, it's fine—"

Before I could finish the protest, a different voice cut through the line. Clear, deep, and chillingly familiar.

"Look at the diagram. There's a hidden condition you're missing..."

His explanation was surgical, breaking down the complex problem into simple steps within minutes. As he finished, he paused for a brief second. "Does that make sense? Can you follow my logic?"

I pressed my lips together, keeping my voice level. "Yes."

"Thank you."

The line went silent on his end. He had clearly tossed the phone back to Wilder. But before I could hit the red end-call button, Wilder's voice filtered back through the speaker.

"You remember her, right? The girl who picked up your watch."

A low, noncommittal grunt came from Weston. "Yeah. I remember."

"When did you two get so close?" Weston asked, his tone shifting slightly.

Wilder chuckled. "That's a secret, bro."

A brief pause stretched over the call before Weston spoke again, his voice thoughtful. "The desk in the photo she sent... it looks familiar. It looks exactly like Cynthia's."

A cold wave of panic washed over me. I slammed the end-call button, my breath catching in my throat.

My mind was a chaotic, tangled mess. I had sent a photo of that exact same desk to Weston months ago on my old Snapchat account. And now he was saying Cynthia Valentine had the exact same one.

I connected the dots, and the realization left me trembling.

On the night I deleted that old account, his final words to me were: I found you.

Did he think Cynthia was the digital ghost he had been talking to for three years? Was that the real reason he had suddenly softened up and gotten together with her?

My Online Boyfriend Mistook Me for Someone Else—I Left (looking for)