What’s your “I should have known better” moment that still haunts you?
The Hundred-Dollar Betrayal
Ashley paid me $100 to work out with her so a guy would notice her. Then told her friends I was the special needs kid she pretended to care about for her college essays.
When I asked her if we were still working out together, she walked away laughing: Damian’s driving me now.
I went quiet. That was 11 months ago. This morning, she left Sony headphones on my porch with a note that said, “They always belong to you.”.
Ashley, the hottest girl in school, cornered me and whispered: I’ll pay you $100 to work out with me for a week.
I dropped my Pokémon cards. She was everyone’s hallway crush, and I was 300 lb with high functioning autism and practically spent my whole life on Discord.
Ashley explained that she had this massive crush on Damian. He worked out at the gym every day at 4:00 p.m.. and hadn’t noticed her existence.
I need him to see me with someone. Expected. she said, eyeing my Doctor Who shirt. No offense. It’s just that guys like Damen always notice when hot girls hang out with guys like you.
But here’s the thing about having high functioning autism. People think you don’t notice when they’re using you. They’re wrong. We notice everything. We just process it differently. And to me, the money made it worth it.
So, when do we start? I asked.
She squeezed my hand and I forgot how to breathe.
Monday, you’re literally saving my life. Her hand brushed mine, grabbing the money back to put in my wallet so I wouldn’t lose it.
First time a pretty girl had touched me on purpose. Monday, she picked me up in a jeep that smelled like Japanese cherry blossom from Bath & Body Works. I know because my sister has the same one.
At Golds, Damen was already there. 6’2 in, sleeves cut off, the kind of guy who probably calls protein powder protein. Ashley pretended not to see him while guiding me to machines.
I couldn’t do a single pull-up. My hands slipped. I fell on my ass hard. Everyone looked.
Oh my god, are you okay? She knelt beside me, hand on my back. Real concern in her voice.
Screw them for staring. You’re trying. That’s what matters.
Damen definitely noticed that. Tuesday, she brought Sony headphones for the sensory stuff, she said casually. $300 headphones for me.
During breaks, she asked about my Clash of Clans base. Actually downloaded the app to see it.
Holy cow, you did this yourself?
When I explained how to manage resources effectively, she didn’t zone out. She asked questions.
Real ones. Your brain is literally incredible. she whispered.
Hand on my arm. Damen walked by. She didn’t look up. Wednesday [ __ ] with my head, teaching me squats. She stood behind me, hands firm on my waist.
Is touching okay? I know I should have asked.
I nodded, hyper aware of every point of contact, made some dumb joke about force vectors and optimal angles. She laughed so hard she snorted.
Gosh, why doesn’t anyone know you’re hilarious? Then quieter. Their loss.
We shared her Quest bar, thighs touching on the bench. She showed me her college essay drafts on her phone.
Everyone thinks I’m too dumb for good schools. That’s because they don’t want to believe that you’re pretty and smart. It makes them feel worse about themselves.
She leaned into me with sparkles in her eyes.
How do you always know exactly what to say? I really like this. she said quietly, like more than I expected to.
Our hands were inches apart on the center console. I wanted to reach over so badly. On Friday, she wore extra perfume. She kept touching me, adjusting my form, fixing my grip, brushing imaginary lint off my shirt.
That’s when Damen approached.
Hey, haven’t seen you around before.
Ashley’s entire demeanor shifted. Her smile got brighter, her voice higher.
Oh, hey. I’m Ashley.
She forgot to introduce me. I stood there holding dumbbells while they flirted.
Maybe we could work out together sometime. Damen asked. I’d love that.
She was already pulling out her phone. They exchanged numbers while I watched. Damen left with a promise to text.
Ashley turned to me glowing.
Oh my gosh, it actually worked. He noticed me.
She remembered I existed.
Oh, right. Here’s your money. 520s. Count it out quickly.
Her phone buzzed.
Damian already. She squealled.
I asked if I should find another ride Monday. What? Oh, Damen’s going to drive me now.
She was already walking away, but can we still work out? No response. Monday at school, she was wearing Damen’s baseball cap. I approached them by her locker.
Hey, about the gym.
She looked through me like I was transparent and didn’t even respond. I went quiet.
I think I remember you. Damian commented.
Ashley quickly joked.
Yeah, I do too. You asked me to help with your form or something.
At lunch, I overheard her with her friends.
Damen said he noticed me because I was so patient with that special needs kid.
My stomach dropped.
Wasn’t it exhausting pretending to care about all that nerd stuff? Her friend asked.
So exhausting, but worth it. Damen thinks I’m all charitable now. They cackled.
Did you feel bad using him?
Why? I paid him. It’s not like he actually thought we were friends or something.
That’s when I knew I had to be the one to make her realize how much she hurt me. By any means necessary.
I spent that whole weekend sitting at my computer replaying every single moment from our week together. My brain works different because of the autism, so I can remember stuff exactly how it happened. The $100 she gave me sat on my desk while I typed in the gym manager’s password I’d memorized months ago.
Gold’s gym had security cameras everywhere, and their system saved footage for 30 days. I downloaded every single hour we were there together. All 7 days worth.
My sister Elena came home from college for winter break on Sunday and found me still at my computer surrounded by empty water bottles and nothing else. She made me eat a sandwich and tell her what happened. I showed her the footage of Ashley laughing with her friends about the special needs kid.
Elena’s face got really mad. She pointed at the Sony headphones on my desk and told me those expensive ones have recording features when they’re connected to phones.
My hands were shaking as I opened the app and found 7 hours of crystal clear audio from our gym week. Every conversation, every laugh, every time she pretended to care about my interests was right there.
Monday morning came too fast, and I sat in the cafeteria watching Ashley across the room with her hand on Damen’s arm. She was wearing his Letterman jacket now and kept touching his muscles while he talked.
My usual table with the Pokémon card players waved me over and asked where I’d been all last week. I showed them the headphones and told them I got played by Ashley for a hundred bucks. They all got quiet because every one of us had been used by popular kids before in different ways.
That night, I stayed up transcribing every single conversation from the recordings, my pattern recognition picking up stuff I missed before. Ashley had mentioned her college essays 17 different times during our week and her voice got scared when she talked about them.
She’d also said her parents would literally kill her if she didn’t get into Yale or Harvard or one of those schools. She kept mentioning January 15th as her big deadline for everything.
Elena came into my room and helped me organize all the evidence into folders on my computer. We had one called Sweet Manipulation with all the times she pretended to like me. Another called Cruel Reality with her making fun of me and legal liability with stuff that might actually get her in trouble.
The gym footage from after I left on Friday was the worst part. Ashley was telling Damen I actually thought we were friends and they both laughed so hard.
She said: How could someone that smart not realize he was being used?
Tuesday at school, I walked past Ashley’s locker and heard her telling her friends about her Yale interview coming up next week. She was bragging that Damen’s dad was writing her a recommendation letter, or at least signing one that Damen wrote.
I turned on my phone’s voice recorder in my pocket and caught the whole thing for my collection. The anger was building up inside me, but I knew I had to be smart about this, not just emotional.
