All In No Regrets Except Losing Her Chapter 01
My best friend just bet my boyfriend that he’d cancel our ceremony. And he said yes.
Night before my Debutante Ball.
We’re all packed into Kai’s dorm suite. Someone smuggled in vodka, someone’s blasting music too loud. It’s supposed to be a celebration.
Then Ivy stands up.
She grabs three Solo cups off the table, flips them upside down, slides a ping-pong ball under one. Shuffles them around. Slow. Showing off.
Then she looks at Zane. Tips her chin up. Smiles like she already knows she’s won.
“Alright, babe. Pick one. You get it right, I’ll drink everything left on this table. Every. Last. Drop.”
“You get it wrong — you do whatever’s on my note. No backing out.”
Zane leans back. Doesn’t even look at the cups.
“Middle.”
Ivy lifts the middle cup. Empty.
She reaches for a bottle, already tipping her head back like she’s about to chug—
“Nah. You got it.”
Zane reaches over. Lifts the left cup. Ball’s right there.
“Moved it before you picked.”
Ivy looks at him. Smiles.
But her eyes are shining.
She pulls out a folded piece of paper. Already written. Already planned.
“Well. Guess I got lucky.”
She unfolds it.
“Your Promise Ceremony. Postponed. Until after college.”
The room dies.
Zane just laughs. Lazy. Unbothered.
“We’ve been playing since freshman year. When have any of us ever punked out?”
“A bet’s a bet.”
This isn’t the first time he’s gambled with something that belongs to me.
I glance at the clock on Kai’s wall. Past midnight.
My phone buzzes.
Happy birthday.
If you don’t have a promised partner by graduation — you’re my prom date. Still on?
I type back:
A bet’s a bet.
Two seconds. Then the room loses its mind.
“Bro, are you serious right now?”
“That ceremony’s not a fucking game!”
“Quinn hand-wrote three hundred invitations! Both families already booked flights! You can’t just — “
Everyone’s yelling over each other. Then they all whip around to Ivy.
“You’re her best friend! Tell us you were joking. That wasn’t a real bet.”
Ivy doesn’t move. Sitting in the corner, drink in hand, swirling it slow. Won’t look at anyone.
“I wasn’t joking.”
“You all know me. I don’t joke about bets.”
“Cursing the table.”
The second those words come out, the whole room goes dead.
Everyone gets it.
The ceremony’s done.
Here’s the thing.
I’m the only outsider in this room. Scholarship kid. I work part-time at the school gallery. That’s it.
Zane and his crew? They live and die by The Circuit.
Underground poker. Passed down through their families at Ashford Hall for generations.
Every legacy kid proves their worth at those tables. Trust funds, family standing, futures — all riding on guts and reads.
They’ve been at it since freshman year. Some of their families, three generations deep.
All in. No regrets. That’s the rule. The only rule.
Nobody says a word.
I pour myself a drink.
“Zane. What do you think.”
He looks at me. Eyes soft with booze. Reaches over and pinches my cheek. Like always.
“Quinn. We can still do the ceremony after college. We’ve got time.”
“But breaking a bet over a date? Jinxing everyone’s luck? That’s not worth it.”
“You get that, right?”
Exactly what I expected.
I drop my head. Swallow it.
When I look up, I’m already smiling.
“I don’t get it. But fine.”
He lets out a breath. Laughs a little.
“Still got jokes. Guess you’re okay.”
The room goes cold. Nobody says anything.
Then the door swings open.
Silas. Nobody saw him leave.
He rolls in a three-tier cake. Candles lit. Icing reads Happy 18th Birthday, Quinn.
“Happy birthday.”
Zane blinks. Then starts clapping, like oh right, that’s today.
And just like that — my pre-ceremony party becomes my birthday party.
Few rounds later. Room’s loud. Dice games, bad singing, someone keeps changing the playlist.
I get up. Walk over to Zane.
Reach into his pocket. Pull out the ping-pong ball.
“Why.”
He smiles. That lazy half-smile.
“Knew you’d figure it out.”
He pulls me in. Voice low, a little rough.
“If Ivy lost, she’d have to drink all of that. You remember last time. She ended up in the nurse’s office for two days. You would’ve done the same thing.”
I look at him.
I want to ask — did you know what was on that note? Did you plan this whole thing together?
But the words stop somewhere in my throat. What’s the point.
I find Ivy.
“Why.”
She looks at me. The alcohol’s burning behind her eyes. Wild. Reckless.
“Because I love Zane.”
“And I’m not sorry. I’ve held back for you for seven years. I’m done.”
The answer I expected. The tone I didn’t.
My best friend. Since we were eleven.
I throw my head back. Take a long, burning swallow.
Everything feels absurd. Pathetic. Like a bad drama I somehow ended up in.
I reach for the bottle again.
A hand presses down on mine. Warm. Steady.
Silas. Right behind me. Didn’t hear him coming.
He leans in. Close enough that his breath brushes my ear.
“Got your answers?”
“Then three days from now — you’re walking down that aisle with me.”