I saw the moment the transfer student slipped a foil packet into my childhood best friend's pocket. He noticed me and offered a smirk. "Relax, bro. It's not for me and your girlfriend." Tessa explained, her voice already edged with exhaustion. "We ran out of the rubber sheaths we need for the lab experiment. This is a substitute. Don't make a big deal out of it, Locke." She was bracing herself for my usual display—the jealousy, the possessiveness, the scene she’d come to find both frustrating and entirely predictable. But I simply lowered my head, my expression vacant, and went back to my reading. Tessa didn't know that the day she shared a single melting ice cream cone with Jax Riley, I had already decided to leave. As far as I was concerned, she had checked herself out of my life weeks ago. 1 "We're using it for a science project, Locke. Don't be unreasonable." She preempted me, already rubbing the bridge of her nose as if preparing for the headache of my inevitable cross-examination. I hadn't said a word. The only reason I'd even looked up was that their whispers had become too loud, disrupting my focus on the advanced calculus lecture I was streaming. I rewound the audio to catch the missed equation, pulled my earbuds back down, and tuned them out. Tessa froze. Jax nudged her with an elbow, his grin wide. "Did your boyfriend change his strategy? Realized being a tyrant doesn't work, so he's trying the silent, wounded act?" He spoke loudly enough for me to hear. "Go on, your little flame is waiting for you to comfort him." "Comfort what?" Tessa snapped, her tone dripping with annoyance. "He's not my husband. Go coddle him yourself." "Ooh, strong words. Be careful, he might never speak to you again." Tessa’s cold gaze landed briefly on the top of my head. "I pray he doesn't." Jax let out a laugh. "You're a cruel girl, Tessa Harrington." The classroom began to fill up, the ambient noise muffling their chatter. I checked the answer for my last listening exercise and got a call from Mr. Davies, our estate manager. "Mr. Montgomery, the paperwork is finalized. Your departure is scheduled for seven days from now. I've also forwarded Ms. Harrington's recent activities to the Chairman." "Good," I replied, my eyes momentarily drifting to Tessa, who was now leaning in, whispering conspiratorially to Jax. He laughed, then—and I felt a flicker of the revulsion return—slipped his hand behind her shirt collar. I returned my focus to my notes, my voice calm. "After my mother reviews the situation, inform her to cancel the engagement agreement immediately. All joint ventures with the Harrington family are to be halted indefinitely." 2 I left the Headmaster’s office. He’d been all smiles and obsequiousness after I confirmed that the funding for the new computer lab and gym equipment would proceed, even with my abrupt departure. I rounded the corner of the administrative hallway and ran straight into Jax and Tessa. "Tessa, what's your rich boy doing coming out of the Headmaster's office? Did he go full snitch over a tiny foil packet?" Jax adopted a mock-pathetic look and tried to drape his arm over my shoulders. "Come on, buddy. It was for a lab. We didn't break any rules." I pulled my arm away. A wash of purely aesthetic distaste came over me. "I’m not your 'buddy.' And my name is Locke Montgomery." Jax blinked, then exaggerated a flinch. "I just thought it sounded friendly. My apologies, I shouldn't have presumed to high-five a millionaire. Please, Locke, don't report us. I’ll stop talking to Tessa if that’s what it takes!" Tessa had had enough. She stepped forward, placing herself between us, her eyes blazing with distinct accusation and impatience. "Locke, this is a high school, not the boardroom. Stop flexing your power. You need to go back inside right now and tell the Headmaster you were only joking. Jax and I are just friends. Our relationship is completely above board." "It's fine, Tessa," Jax cut in, peeking over her shoulder with a pained look. "Everyone knows you two are the school's golden couple. I shouldn't have tried to befriend you." He turned, looking heartbroken, about to storm off. Tessa grabbed his arm, her gaze fixed on me, radiating cold contempt. "Locke, do you know how disgusting you are? I'm a person, a free agent. Why do you need to chain me to you every single day, dictating who I can and can't speak to? Did you buy me?" They’d left a gap in their rehearsed performance, and I finally had space to speak. I looked into the blatant disgust in her eyes and asked softly, "Didn't I?" 3 I was born with a certain emotional flatness. Outside of my parents, I've always found it difficult to form genuine attachments. I was five years old when my father's business rivals kidnapped me. While running away, I was cornered, nearly recaptured, when Tessa, who was just playing nearby, intervened. She distracted them, allowing me to escape, and she was the one who was caught and beaten—breaking two of her ribs. Later, in her hospital room, I surprised everyone. To my usually anxious and distant parents, I said, "I want Tessa to be my friend." They were stunned. It was the first time I had ever expressed a desire for a companion. After a thorough background check on the Harrington family—a background check they passed easily enough, being respectable, if not wealthy—my parents enthusiastically agreed. Tessa’s parents, sensing the opportunity of a lifetime, were positively glowing. My mother came from old-money New England society. My father was the patriarch of a global financial empire. Their daughter, aligning with me, meant the Harringtons would skyrocket into the upper echelon of the DC/New York social scene. In the years that followed, Tessa’s parents never missed an opportunity to subtly push us together. My mother, seeing how my relationship with Tessa seemed to ease my social difficulties, eventually asked if I would consider making the arrangement permanent. I didn't feel anything, but meeting my mother’s worried gaze, I nodded. I didn't want my parents to worry about my small affairs. A quiet, verbal promise of an engagement, made during a holiday party, was all it took. That simple, non-binding agreement was enough to launch the Harringtons into the core circle of the East Coast elite. Tessa's parents were ecstatic, constantly pressuring her to stay close to me, to keep me happy, terrified that I would change my mind. But as she grew older, Tessa changed. The girl who used to patiently read with me, the one whose eyes held genuine amusement and kindness, slowly replaced that warmth with visible annoyance and resentment. She hated it when people at school called us the "Golden Couple." Then Jax arrived. The first time I saw him, he was sitting at my desk, rifling through the items I kept there. "Tessa, is your desk mate really a guy? He has so much stuff. And so many bright colors." Tessa was leaning against the desk, a genuine smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. "He's not like you, Jax. You’re messy and only like black, white, and gray." Jax playfully swiped at her, accidentally knocking over my insulated tumbler. It hit the floor and shattered into a dozen pieces. Tessa saw me suddenly standing there and her smile vanished. "Jax just transferred in. He didn't know better, Locke. Don't make a big deal." I looked only at Jax, my voice flat. "That tumbler was a limited edition. Twelve hundred dollars. I want payment within three days." Jax scoffed, incredulous. "Twelve hundred dollars for a water bottle? Are you insane? You act like you're some rich kid from a movie!" Someone nearby whispered, "He is a rich kid from a movie. His family donated the new Arts Center and half the STEM wing." Jax's face flushed a deep crimson. He stammered, "C-come on, I didn't mean to! Why should I have to pay?" He tugged at Tessa’s sleeve. "Tessa, your friend is a snob." Tessa frowned. "Locke, he didn't do it on purpose. And twelve hundred dollars is nothing to you. Stop being so aggressive." "Fine. You pay for him, then. Twelve hundred dollars. Transfer it now." Tessa’s face hardened. "Seriously? For a cup? You're unbelievable." "Unbelievable, but serious," I said, meeting her gaze. "My family's money is not Monopoly money." With the rest of the class watching, Tessa was forced to transfer the funds. Once the transaction was confirmed, she started gathering her books. "Jax, you wanted me to tutor you? I'm moving. I'm taking the desk next to yours." She said it to Jax, but she was looking at me, clearly expecting me to beg, to plead for her to stay. I merely stepped aside, giving her more room to move. She paused, then, fueled by a renewed rush of anger, she slammed her books down on the empty desk next to Jax. I watched her go, and in that moment, I knew I had to find a way to let her go for good. My life was complicated enough. If I couldn't have a genuine friend, I didn't need a transactional one, either. 4 The Headmaster, on his way out, smiled as he passed us. "Ms. Harrington, are you also in line to file your withdrawal paperwork?" Tessa looked confused. "Also? Where are you going, Locke?" "A program. Overseas," I said neutrally. The Headmaster's eyes flickered, then he seemed to understand and only offered a few final words of academic encouragement before leaving. Back in class, our English teacher began announcing the recipients of the Quarterly Improvement Scholarship—a fund specifically designed to reward the most improved students. While the teacher droned on about grading curves, I heard Jax whisper thanks to Tessa. "Tess, thanks for the tutoring. I'll take you to dinner once I get the money." Tessa smiled. "It's nothing." But the teacher read out another girl's name. Jax shot up, forgetting himself. "Wait! It's supposed to be Paige Stevens?" The teacher frowned. "Any disputes can be settled after class. Do not interrupt the lecture." After the bell, Jax chased the teacher down and returned to his seat, eyes red-rimmed and miserable. "So much for the rich having a heart, huh?" he muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. The class surrounded him, asking what happened. Jax walked directly up to my desk, his expression a mask of wounded pride. "Locke, I know your family set up this scholarship, but you can't be this vindictive. Just because Tessa and I got close, you changed the name to punish me. How can you be so unfair?" The entire class gasped. The eyes on me shifted from neutral curiosity to judgment. I looked up from my book. "Did the teacher tell you that, specifically?" Jax's eyes darted away. "Do you think I'm lying? Everyone knows Tessa doesn't bother with you anymore, and you have that engagement hanging over her head. Of course, you’d try to hurt me." He lowered his voice, making it sound desperate. "I know you don't need the money. You don't understand what it's like to be poor, but I really need that few thousand dollars. I'll stop seeing Tessa. I'll give her back to you. Just give me the scholarship." Tessa, who had just returned from the hall, watched Jax’s pale, distraught face, and her expression softened with pity. "Locke, if you have a problem, take it out on me, not him." Bully him? A rare surge of genuine emotion—disgust—prickled beneath my skin. "First," I said, my tone deadly quiet, "I don't stoop to bullying anyone." "Second," I shifted my gaze to his face and held up my phone, which was clearly recording, "I have the right to report you for slander and defamation." Jax froze, his face draining of color. He mumbled something and tried to hide behind Tessa. "It's fine," he whimpered. "I can't fight the elite. Let Paige Stevens have it. Maybe it’s good for me to realize how the world works." Tessa's eyes shone with sympathy. "Locke, Jax improved his grades by over 100 points. You can't involve other people in our spat." "We are living, breathing people, Locke, not props for your controlling games!" I was about to respond when a quiet, usually shy girl in the back row abruptly stood up. Her eyes were red, and her entire body was shaking with nerves. She walked over, stared directly at Jax, and spoke, her voice trembling but firm. "Locke Montgomery has not abused his power. This scholarship is mine, and I earned it." She took a shaky breath. "My parents passed away, and my grandmother is in a nursing facility. We rely on government aid. Locke's family only set up this particular fund after he learned about my situation." "Even so, I struggled with my grades. I didn't receive it for two years. But this semester, I raised my score by 109 points and my class rank by over 300 places. I worked hard. I deserve this." "Hundreds of students benefit from the Montgomery Foundation's grants every year. Mr. Montgomery does not deserve to be slandered like this!" Paige's face was beet red, and tears streamed down her cheeks. 5 The classroom fell silent. Then, the low murmurs began. "Locke is aloof, but he's never condescending or cruel." "Right? That fund gives six thousand dollars four times a year. Hundreds of students across the school benefit. That's genuinely kind." "Paige is quiet, but she doesn't fight for attention. If she improved that much, she deserves it." The consensus quickly shifted to Paige and me. Jax’s face went through several shades of white and red before he couldn't stand it anymore. He muttered an apology to Tessa and ran out of the room. Tessa looked at me, her expression a confusion of guilt and contempt. "Even if you didn't manipulate the outcome, did you have to humiliate him like that? We're all classmates." I lifted my head, my patience snapped. "Tessa, you truly have no self-awareness." I had never used such a sharp tone with her before. In the past, I'd tolerated her behavior to a point, seeing her as a necessary, if flawed, social buffer for my parents. This was the first time I'd directly challenged her. She was clearly humiliated, her face flushing crimson. She spat out, "You're impossible!" and stormed out. Jax and Tessa skipped the remaining two classes. Due to the time difference, my mother's notice hadn't reached the Harrington family yet. That evening, after my usual routine of washing up and reading a financial journal, I received a text from an unknown number. It was a photo of several torn foil packets scattered on a bed, paired with a message: [You stole my scholarship, so I stole your woman. Idiot. Did you actually believe we were using these for chemistry?] I had expected it, but seeing the visual proof made my stomach clench with cold, clean disgust. I didn't reply. I simply screenshotted the image and text and sent it to Mr. Davies. [Attach this to the official termination of the engagement agreement when you send it to the Harringtons.]
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