The Graduation Photo Betrayal

When I returned to my dorm, Corin was sitting on the edge of my bed, holding a box with flashy packaging.

“Everett…”

He stood up awkwardly.

“I’m sorry. I really wanted to come find you, but something came up at the last minute…”

I walked past him in silence and began packing the items on my desk.

“This is a gift for you.”

He pushed the box toward me.

“All four of us in the dorm contributed…”

I paused and stared at the box.

“Did you really come looking for me yesterday?” I asked softly.

Corin twisted his fingers together.

“I… I did go, but you weren’t there…”

“I was in the dorm all day yesterday.”

I looked straight into his eyes.

“From eight in the morning until ten at night. I even ordered lunch delivery.”

His face flushed red.

“Maybe… maybe I got the time wrong…”

“Corin,” I interrupted him, “over four years of school, how many times did I save you a seat in the library? How many times did I cover for you?”

His head sank lower and lower.

“Last semester, when you twisted your ankle playing basketball, who carried you to the hospital in the middle of the night?”

My voice began to tremble.

“Who stayed with you in the ER until dawn?”

He kept his head low, fists clenched tightly.

“I’m sorry…” he said sadly.

“*Hayden said… said there was no need to notify you… he said you never fit in anyway…”

I took a deep breath and pushed the box back to him.

“No, thanks.”

I was about to ask Corin to leave the dorm when my phone vibrated.

A new message appeared in the class group chat.

Hayden had posted a notice:

[Students who have paid can take individual and group photos this afternoon.]

The chat exploded with cheers and thank-you emojis.

Corin quickly grabbed my hand.

“I’ll come with you this afternoon…”

I coldly moved his hand aside.

“I’ll go by myself.”

After all, I had already paid.

At three in the afternoon, I arrived alone at the school’s photography studio.

From a distance, I saw classmates gathering in small groups, holding the graduation albums they had just received, laughing constantly.

But when I pushed the door open, the normally noisy room fell silent for a second.

More than twenty pairs of eyes all turned toward me, then moved away as if by unspoken agreement, while a few suppressed giggles floated in the air.

I wondered what was happening.

I walked straight toward Soren Vance, a class committee member distributing the albums.

He was Hayden’s close friend and often cooperated with him to target me.

Today, Soren wore a graduation gown and was surrounded by a few buddies, joking and laughing.

Seeing me approach, panic flickered across his face, but he quickly replaced it with his usual condescending expression.

“Well, finally decided to show up?” Soren asked, his voice raised.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”

I calmly reached out my hand.

“My graduation album, please.”

He exaggeratedly sighed, picked up an album from the table, and handed it to me.

“Here, I saved it just for you.”

I opened the album, and the first page was the full class photo.

My picture had been Photoshopped into the far corner of the last row—a clear ID photo cut from my student card.

It had been enlarged to the point of distortion; my face was pale and lifeless, a stark contrast to everyone else’s natural expressions.

Worse, a ridiculous pair of bunny ears had been added to the top of my head.

A few suppressed snickers rang out around me.

I raised my head and saw several classmates covering their mouths to laugh, and some lifted their phones to take pictures of me.

“How do you like it?” Soren raised an eyebrow smugly.

“I personally instructed the photographer to make it special.”

My fingers clenched the edges of the album, knuckles white.

“This is what I get?” I heard my own voice, unnervingly calm.

Soren shrugged.

“Photoshopping isn’t free. Do you know how hard the photographer worked overtime?”

“Refund my money.” I slammed the album on the table.

“Or I’ll report you and Hayden to the Academic Affairs Office for misusing class funds.”