My sister, Foster, dragged me into her friends' "Blind Box Dating Game." I ended up drawing the name of the scholarship kid, Brooks. Immediately, someone gasped. "Oh, Brooks! Orphaned, raised by his sick grandma who collects trash to pay his tuition. Yet, he's somehow always at the top of the class!" "Christy, if you can make him fall for you and then crush his heart, the satisfaction will be insane!" Pretend to fall in love with a poor guy, win his heart, and then dump him in the most humiliating way possible. They had already ruined countless people using this cruel game. Seeing my hesitation, Foster grabbed my hand tightly. "Christy, you were kidnapped for fifteen years. You finally made it back to our family." "The only way to fit into high society and get Mom and Dad’s approval is to play along with us." I grit my teeth and agreed, starting my approach to Brooks. Little did they know, I was playing them. I knew I was the real target. Foster had already set it up with Brooks. She wanted him to dump me first right before the one-month mark. She wanted me to be dumped by a poor kid, making me the ultimate laughingstock of the prep school. But she didn't know that Brooks wasn't poor. He was playing broke to test Foster—his wealthy fiancée.
"Foster, did Brooks agree?" "Why wouldn't he? That idiot spent a whole month’s food money just to buy me a gift. I told him if he listens to me and plays along with Christy, I'll give him a shot." "Ugh, a girl like you is way out of his league. He's getting a steal!" "A steal? Once Christy is ruined, he's next..." I hid in the bathroom stall for twenty minutes. After Foster left with her friends, I picked a gemstone necklace out of the trash bin. Foster thought it was a cheap fake. But I remembered working at the mall before the school year started. Brooks, who had just returned from studying abroad, walked in once, and the shop owners treated him like royalty. "Tell everyone I'm just a poor student on financial aid. Nobody reveals my identity." "If Foster is as shallow as they say, I won't force myself into this arranged marriage just for old times' sake..." He was a great actor. Foster hired bullies to mess with him at his part-time job, even slapping him hard. Yet, he took it, apologizing with lowered eyes, looking humiliated and desperate. I stepped in to defend him. Foster's lackey gave a signal, and the bully grabbed me, his foul-smelling face leaning in: "Oh, you feel bad for him? If you want me to let him go, how about you hang out with me and have a few drinks?" His hand grabbed my waist, sliding upward. This was not in the plan. I froze, my mind going blank, panic setting in. Suddenly, Brooks pulled me behind him, shielding me, coughing heavily. The restaurant staff quickly appeared and restrained the bully. Brooks pulled me outside. "Why did you help me?" I had my lines ready: "I couldn't just stand by and watch someone get bullied." Foster told me poor, delusional guys fall hard for the "damsel in distress" savior trope. Brooks smiled. "Thank you. Can I have your Snapchat?" "Everyone else looks down on me. They just want to see me fail. You’re the only one who helped." Then he offered to walk me home. I figured Foster gave him that line. But I didn't get it. Brooks knew what Foster was like. Why was he playing along? I got my answer soon enough. I didn't go inside when we reached my house. I hid and watched. A private driver pulled up to pick Brooks up. The driver asked him: "Sir, Foster treats you like dirt. Why do you still bother?" Brooks smirked. "She has no morals, but she has ambition." "If she can use this game to ruin Christy's image in front of her parents and take the entire inheritance..." "I might actually give her a business partnership." "As for Christy, she walked right into the trap without a clue. She's stupid but kind of entertaining. Since I'm on break, I might as well play along." I scoffed silently. None of them were good people.
On the track field, Brooks was being humiliated. That’s the price of playing poor at a prep school. Someone stomped on his breakfast. His blood sugar crashed, and he collapsed on the ground, dizzy. Foster didn't start it, but she stood by, watching the show. Brooks instinctively looked at her for help. She only sneered. "Why are you looking at Foster? She's already engaged." "Her fiancé is the only son of the Russells—the richest family in Virginia. Who do you think you are?" "I heard this trash tried to give Foster a gift. How did he even dare?" Foster stayed cold. I stepped forward and helped him up. Foster's minion immediately seized the chance to mock me: "Look at that! Trash belongs with trash." "Did you guys know? Christy might be Foster's sister, but she was kidnapped and raised in some trailer park for fifteen years." "She's just as low-class as Brooks. She barely even finished middle school." "No wonder her grades are always the worst. She's a total loser..." This wasn't part of the script. I didn't need to get humiliated, and Brooks looked surprised. I ignored the laughter, pulled out a homemade bagel, and fed it to him to raise his blood sugar. The crowd laughed harder. "Foster, doesn't she live with you? Why is she eating pig food?" Foster smiled. "She just came home. She's probably not used to our lifestyle." That was a lie. She was pampered by our parents. I was missing for fifteen years. Even after I returned, my parents looked at me with disgust and resentment. Foster convinced them that I’d go bad if I had money, so they cut off my allowance. The maids only cooked for Foster. I had to make my own meals. "Try it, it's good. I've been cooking for myself since I was a kid." Brooks took a bite, then wolfed it down, slowly regaining his strength. The crowd dispersed, leaving only me. A strange look crossed his eyes. "Thanks..." Since Foster hadn't scripted this, he didn't know what to say. I wiped the dirt off his face. "Don't worry about it. Hey, could you tutor me?" I looked up at him, locking eyes. The sunlight framed his handsome face, his eyes swirling with complex emotions. After a long pause, he asked in a low, husky voice, "Are you approaching me on purpose?" I nodded. "Yes." "Actually, I'm supposed to get close to you and make you fall in love with me." "And then, once you love me, I'm supposed to dump you, ruin your grades, and destroy you." "It's a game Foster and her friends play. They forced me to join. You're the target." Brooks cleared his throat, looking away. "Then... why are you telling me this?" "Aren't you afraid of failing the game and being rejected by Foster?" I shook my head. "I don't care." "She's terrified I'll steal her inheritance and her parents' love. She'll never accept me anyway." "My parents listen to her. They won't give me money for tutoring, and without it, I can't catch up or apply to a good college." "So I need you, Brooks. Tutor me." "We are the same." "We have no one to rely on. We have to fight for our own future." Then, I saw Brooks smile. It was a genuine, appreciative smile, like he had just found a hidden treasure. "Okay. I'll tutor you. Let's do this together." I smiled back. In the future, whoever wins Brooks wins the Russell empire.
Foster was thrilled with our progress, so she stopped setting up scenes. As she wished, I spent all my free time alone with Brooks in the classroom. Brooks was brilliant. Concepts that seemed impossible to me, things the teachers explained a hundred times, he could break down in seconds. Of course, sometimes he teased me for being slow, tapping my head and joking that I was giving him a headache. I’d look up at him, pout, and see him framed by the window. The golden hour light hit his face, highlighting his perfect features. I stared. His breath hitched. We both quickly looked away, pretending nothing happened, just like the times our hands accidentally brushed. Two weeks flew by. My midterm grades skyrocketed, almost catching up to Foster's. She started getting anxious. "You nerd! I told you to seduce Brooks, not do homework with him!" "How is he going to fall in love with you if you're just studying?" "How are we going to ruin him after the breakup? Where is the fun in that?" "Take him to the mall this weekend!" "Buy him a watch or some sneakers. That's how you hook him. Got it?" I remembered overhearing Foster asking our parents to take her shopping this weekend. I realized what she was planning and agreed. Besides, Brooks’s birthday was coming up, and I wanted to get him something. When I went to find him, I overheard him on the phone with Foster. Foster’s voice was demanding: "You know what to do if you run into my parents, right?" "Act close with Christy. Make it look like you've already slept together..." After he hung up, disgust flashed in his eyes. I waited a moment before walking in to invite him to the mall. Brooks asked, "I thought you said your parents don't give you money?" I smiled. "I have my ways." That weekend, I took Brooks to a flea market first. I pulled out the gemstone necklace he had given Foster. His face darkened. "Where did you get that?" "Foster threw it in the trash. I liked it, so I kept it." "It looks expensive. Honestly, I don't want to sell it. But Brooks—" The weather was getting cold, and he was still wearing a thin, worn-out jacket. I touched his hand, my eyes filled with concern. "Your hands are always freezing. I want you to be warm." His breath hitched. I could feel something shifting in his eyes. He slowly leaned in, closer and closer. Just when I could hear his heartbeat, a hand snatched the necklace. "Looks nice. How about $300?" "You kids look poor, this probably isn't even yours. $300 is a steal." Brooks grit his teeth. "You bastard, that's my—" He stopped himself. I haggled with the customer. "$566." "$566? Why such an odd number? $400 max!" I stood firm. "$566. Not a penny less." Because the coat I wanted to buy Brooks was exactly $566. Seeing the price tag on the coat later, Brooks’s eyes turned slightly red. "Christy, you..." I cut him off, wrapping the coat around him. "Happy birthday, Brooks." Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest. I struggled weakly, then let myself melt into his embrace. The warm moment was shattered by a sharp voice behind us. "Christy! What do you think you're doing?"
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "NovelMaster" app ? search for "448994", and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster