Chapter 2

"Flynn Vance! Who gave you the right to talk to me like that?!"

He thrust his chin forward, but his expression had shifted completely. The timid helplessness was gone, replaced by a venomous, calculating edge.

"Yeah, I'm poor! My family doesn't have money, and I never even touched a Rolex growing up!"

"But no matter how broke I am, I don't get down on my knees and beg!"

"What else can you do besides sucking up to rich trust-fund babies? You failed three classes last semester! Do you even deserve to call yourself a man?"

"Do you know what my GPA is? Number one in the department!"

When he said those last words, an unmistakable arrogance dripped from his tone, as if he had finally ripped off his poor-victim mask to reveal the fangs underneath.

The eyes of everyone around us pierced into me like needles.

I let out an angry laugh.

I hadn't even bothered taking a swing at him, and he was already this worked up?

I took a step forward, looking down at him.

"Tristan, which eye saw that I couldn't afford this myself?"

Tristan's lips parted, but before he could speak, Serena cut in with a sharp, cold scoff.

Her face was dripping with impatience. She crossed her arms, staring at me like I was a bad joke.

"Flynn, who are you trying to fool?"

"Others might not know your situation, but do you think I don't?"

"You rotate through the same three cheap hoodies, you always order the cheapest meal at the dining hall, and last month you spent twenty minutes stressing over a fifty-dollar phone bill!"

"At least Tristan is genuine. He's sweeping every scholarship, and the faculty loves him."

"What do you have? You're literally ranked at the bottom of our major. You don't even have basic self-respect. Since when did being a billionaire's footstool become something to be proud of?"

She threw her hands up in utter disgust.

"A luxury watch on your wrist is nothing more than a fake."

"Using someone else's handouts to humiliate Tristan? Don't you feel pathetic?"

She turned back to glance at Tristan, her eyes radiating that saintly 'look how well I treat you' glow.

Tristan seized the moment, pushing his taped-up glasses up his nose and murmuring softly.

"Serena, leave it..."

"He might be a loser, but he still has an ego."

It sounded like he was defending me, but he had just branded the word "loser" right across my forehead.

Muffled chuckles rippled through the locker room.

A sharp, dull ache jabbed straight into my chest.

Last month was Serena's birthday.

She had sent me an Instagram post of someone's boyfriend buying them a limited-edition designer lipstick vault, pairing it with a bunch of pleading, starry-eyed emojis.

I wanted to buy her something meaningful with money I earned with my own two hands.

So I took shifts at the boba shop right by campus, standing on my feet for eight hours straight until my ankles were too swollen to slide into my sneakers.

I tutored high school kids, riding the bus for two hours back and forth until my throat burned from talking.

Finally, I scraped together enough.

Yet on the day she opened the box, she barely glanced at the lipstick vault before rushing out the door to go shopping with her sorority sisters.

Maybe she didn't even remember that gift at all.

I drew in a long breath, forcing the bitter sting down into my gut.

"Are you done?"

I stared straight into Serena's eyes, pacing every syllable.

"Whether I can afford it or not is my business. None of this has anything to do with either of you."

"Excuse me."

I turned on my heel and walked away.

The crowd parted automatically.

I had only taken two steps when Serena's voice came chasing after me.

Her tone was flared with rage, like someone had stomped on her pride.

Footsteps hurried behind me, and she grabbed my arm with a harsh yank.

"Flynn Vance, stop right there!"

"Tristan was nice enough to let me talk sense into you. You don't appreciate it, and now you're giving me an attitude?!"

I ripped my arm out of her grip.

The fury on her face exploded.

"Apologize to Tristan right now, and give that watch back to Logan!"

Give it back?

It belongs to my family in the first place. Who the hell am I supposed to give it back to?

I didn't utter a word. I turned around and kept walking.

Behind me, Serena's screech rose an octave, sounding like she had just been slapped across the face in broad daylight.

"Flynn Vance! If you walk away right now, we are done!"

The quiet murmuring in the hallway vanished instantly.

Everyone held their breath, waiting for me to turn around, crumble, and beg.

My footsteps paused for half a second.

Then, without looking back, I took the next step forward.