Chapter 3

Mrs. Evans blinked in surprise.

"As for that ten dollars," I paused, "last month, she asked me to pick up all her meals for four weeks straight. I fronted over a thousand dollars of my own money.

Yesterday, she handed me ten bucks and told me she did me a favor by saving me gym fees, saying I should be thanking her instead. Mrs. Evans, does that sound reasonable to you?"

Mrs. Evans's expression shifted.

"Over a thousand dollars?" She frowned. "She didn't mention that."

"Of course she didn't," I said, leaning back.

"She only tells the parts that make her look good. If you need it, I can print out the itemized list and receipts for you right now."

Mrs. Evans fell silent for a moment before letting out a soft sigh. "I understand. I'll have a talk with her. You can head back to class."

I thanked her, stood up, and left the office.

In the hallway, I ran straight into Mia. She was chatting with two other girls. When she saw me come out, a flicker of guilt flashed across her face, but she quickly masked it with an innocent smile.

"What did Mrs. Evans want with you?" She tilted her head, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Don't tell me it was about last night? I didn't snitch, promise."

The two girls beside her glared at me judgmentally.

I stopped and looked her dead in the eye:

"You didn't snitch? Then what did you say to Mrs. Evans on the phone last night?"

Mia's smile froze for a split second before widening again:

"Come on, I was just letting her know what happened. I didn't say anything bad about you. Don't be so sensitive."

"Sensitive?" I scoffed.

"You told her I'm a freeloader who forced you to buy me meals. That's 'not saying anything bad'?"

Her expression dropped.

"What nonsense are you talking about? When did I ever call you a freeloader?" Mia panicked, her voice pitching up.

"Elena, stop making things up!"

"You know full well whether I'm making it up." I had no intention of arguing in the hallway and turned to leave.

Behind me, her frantic screech rang out:

"Elena! Stop right there! Explain yourself!"

I didn't look back.

But I knew this was far from over.

Sure enough, by that afternoon, my notifications exploded.

First came a message from a classmate:

"Elena, did you get into a fight with your roommate? She just posted a bunch of stuff on Ins."

I opened Ins.

Mia had posted a selfie with red, swollen eyes. The caption read: "Three years of college, and I finally see someone's true colors. Just because I didn't buy her a gift, she turned on me and humiliated me in front of the whole hall, cornering me for cash. My heart hurts so much. I guess some friendships mean nothing when money is involved."

There were already over thirty comments underneath:

"That's insane!"

"How can you still live with a psycho like that? Apply for a room transfer ASAP."

"Hugs, Mia! Don't let her get to you."

"Some people act like your sister to your face while calculating every penny behind your back."

I stared at the comments, my finger hovering over the screen.

In the end, I didn't reply or leave a comment. I just took screenshots.

At dinner, I went to the dining hall and bumped into Tara from down the hall.

She sat across from me with her tray, looking hesitant.

"Just say whatever's on your mind," I said, stabbing a forkful of salad.

Tara chewed on her lower lip and lowered her voice. "Elena, I know you're not the person Mia's making you out to be. But you need to be careful. She was talking trash about you in multiple SnapChat groups this afternoon. A lot of people are buying it."

"What did she say?"

"She said you're cheap, entitled, and that you threw a massive tantrum over ten dollars and practically drove her to tears."

Tara frowned. "Her story is completely different from yours, but you know how people are. Most just believe whoever cries first."

I set my fork down, staring at my tray, my appetite suddenly gone.

"I get it. Thanks for telling me."

Tara sighed.

"Aren't you going to post something on Ins to clear your name? You can't just let her control the narrative."

I thought about it, then shook my head:

"Posting now won't help. She got to them first. Anything I say will just look like damage control."