Chapter 3

Just as the last class ended, a brand-new iPhone box landed on my desk.

I looked up to see Rosalind Summers, the heiress of Summers Realty Group. She always looked icy in class, barely spoke to anyone unless she had to, and I'd never seen her repeat a Chanel outfit.

"Take it," she said, her arms folded and her chin slightly raised. Her tone wasn't exactly friendly, but she didn't sound as haughty as usual. "Your phone got smashed this morning, right? I've got an extra."

I blinked in surprise, quickly pushing the box back. "Rosalind, I really can't take this. I..."

"It's not a gift," she interrupted, tracing her finger along the box. "I'll be at a Fashion Week overseas next week, so you'll handle my assignments this week. Consider this your payment."

My fingers curled around the box, my heart racing—shock and a rush of something like thrill. "Deal. Thank you."

Rosalind arched an eyebrow, her skirt sweeping past the desk and leaving a hint of perfume in the air. "Have it on my desk tomorrow morning. And don't do a half-assed job."

*****

The next morning, I handed Rosalind her finished homework. She flipped through a couple of pages, let a rare smile slip, then just slipped it into her bag without another word.

But as soon as I came out of the restroom, a sharp voice cut through the air. "Interesting. Crying over a broken phone yesterday, flashing a brand-new one today. That was fast."

Keira stood in front of me, her arms crossed, her eyes pure venom, zeroing in on the corner of the phone peeking out of my pocket.

I was just about to say something when she suddenly let out a theatrical "oops" and lunged at me, her thermos tipping over and scalding hot water splashing all over my arm.

"Shit!" The burning pain shot through me, and I shot up from my seat, my school uniform already soaked through. "Keira, are you out of your mind?"

She didn't even glance at my scalded arm. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice getting louder on purpose so everyone around could hear.

She said, "Natalie, first you live off the school's handout, and now you're taking charity from the trust fund kids? Aren't you worried they'll just decide you're not worth the scholarship?"

Every eye in the hallway locked onto us. I clenched my fists, biting back my anger.

I fired back, "It's payment for doing Rosalind's homework. I earned it. It's none of your business."

"Earned it?" she sneered, her eyes cold and mean. Then her voice dropped, dripping with poison. "Or is that just a story you tell yourself so you can forget you're a charity case, and that your parents back home are still counting every penny you don't send?"

Her words cut deep, like a knife to the gut. I pointed right at her.

I said, my voice shaking, but every word cutting through, "Leave my family out of this, Keira. You're bitter, and you're desperate to make everyone else feel as miserable as you are. What is your problem with me?"

She stumbled back a step, her face turning pale, but she still tried to act tough.

She roared, "I just can't stand how you cozy up to them. Using your scholarship to climb the social ladder. You're even more pathetic than they are!"

"Can't stand it?" I let out a mocking laugh, my voice full of sarcasm. "Then leave. No one's holding you back. Why not go to one of those top schools you keep talking about? Or is it just that you couldn't get in?"

I paused, making sure every word stung. "Right, I remember now. Your SAT score was 30 points lower than mine. You didn't make their cut, so now you're stuck here, resenting anyone doing better than you. That's it, isn't it?"

It hit her like a physical blow. Her face flushed red, then drained white. She looked completely exposed.

All around us, I could hear classmates whispering. Keira's grip on her thermos was so tight that the veins popped out, but she was totally speechless.

She shot me a vicious glare, snatched up her thermos, and made a beeline for the exit like she was escaping a crime scene. When she passed Rosalind, she paused for half a second, but didn't dare stop. She was out of there in a flash.

I watched Keira's retreating back, my arm still burning, but my gaze was as cold as ice. If she was going to keep getting in my way, I'd make sure she didn't last the semester.