Right before finals week, my childhood sweetheart paid someone to smash the scholarship student's hearing aid. I immediately custom-ordered a new one and gave it to him. When my childhood friend found out, he cornered me in the stairwell, his voice dripping with venom. "Why help that trash? Wouldn't it be better to watch him rot in the mud?" He leaned in to kiss me, trying to manipulate me with the face I used to love. I looked him in the eye and lied. "Fine. Let's ruin him." From that day on, I dragged the poor scholar into my world, distracting him day and night. When college acceptance letters arrived, my childhood friend got into his dream Ivy League school. Everyone thought he would finally confess his love to me. Instead, he pointed at my mediocre state school acceptance and sneered, "Love can't be forced, Blaire. Besides, we aren't on the same level anymore." I wasn't sad. Because that same day, the scholar I had supposedly "corrupted" came to find me. He held an acceptance letter from MIT in one hand, and he pulled me close with the other, kissing me with a devotion that bordered on worship. "Stay with me, okay?" "My future, and my life... they all belong to you." 1 When Carter walked into the classroom to find me, a group of students was gathered around Serena, the school’s golden girl. "Only the Valedictorian is good enough for our Serena. Carter crushed the mock exams; he’s definitely taking the top spot." "I knew Carter would lock in for Serena. Too bad about Wes, though. Hearing his hearing aid 'accidentally' broke right before the English listening portion? Tragic." "Serena, I'm so jealous. Both of them are obsessed with you. Who are you gonna pick?" "Obviously Carter. He's rich, he's connected... he and Serena are the power couple." Serena looked up from her perfectly organized notes. She tried to hide her smile, feigning modesty. "Stop it, guys. We're all just friends." "Just friends? That Patek Philippe watch on your wrist says otherwise. Didn't Carter buy that for you?" "This old thing? He told me it was just a trinket. If I knew it was expensive, I wouldn't have taken it!" "See? Carter spoils you. Look at Blaire over there. She buys Carter everything, basically pays him to hang out with her, and now she's buying hearing aids for the charity case, Wes. And for what? Carter still won't look at her." I sat at my desk, unbothered. Out in the hallway, Carter grabbed my arm. "Blaire, what the hell? You know how much I hate Wes. Why did you help him?" He was here to interrogate me. I knew exactly why he hated Wes. Since Wes transferred here on a full academic scholarship, Carter hadn't touched the number one spot in the class rankings. And conveniently, Serena—the girl Carter was obsessed with—had publicly stated she’d only date the Valedictorian. Carter glanced back into the classroom, his eyes darkening as he landed on a justification. "Are you doing this because of Serena? Blaire, you know she's just a fling. I'm just having fun." We both came from old money. We had an unspoken engagement. In our circle, people like Serena—upper middle class but not elite—were temporary distractions. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "Blaire, we’ve known each other forever. Don't let an outsider ruin us." I looked at him calmly. "The hearing aid was custom-made. I already gave it to him. I can't ask for it back." "Unless," I stepped closer, "you want me to smash the Rolex I bought you, too?" 2 Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. Wes was standing by the classroom door. He had been waiting. He was wearing the new hearing aid I gave him. It was silver, sleek, and glittered under the fluorescent lights. On him, it didn't look like a disability. It looked like jewelry. "It looks good," I said. I smiled and walked toward him. "Wes, were you looking for me?" "Yeah." Wes reached up, took the device off, and held it out to me. His voice was cold, flat. "Take it back." My fingertips brushed his palm. It was warm. Looking at his face—thin, handsome, but still boyish—my vision blurred. "Wes," I whispered. "I'm so happy to see you again." In my past life, if he hadn't sought revenge for me, his life wouldn't have ended at twenty-eight. Even in death, he had been calm. He had wiped the tears from my face in that cold, dark room. "Blaire, don't feel guilty. I didn't want to live anyway. I just couldn't leave you behind. Promise me you'll live well, okay?" He loved me simply because, years ago, I had held an umbrella over him in the rain. Even when our marriage was purely transactional, born of my desperation and his kindness, he treated me like his most precious treasure. Twenty-eight-year-old Wes had reached the end of his road. Eighteen-year-old Wes still had a chance to change everything. Husband, I thought. This time, let me protect you. 3 Wes was stubborn. He insisted on returning it. I quickly composed myself, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. I took the device and gently placed it back over his ear. "I gave it to you. It's yours. Does it fit okay?" Subconsciously, my fingers lingered on his earlobe. In our past life, I couldn't sleep unless I was touching his ear. It was soft. Grounding. Wes flinched, clearly shocked by the intimacy. A faint blush crept up his neck. He took a step back. "Thank you." Carter's posse, noticing their leader's foul mood, immediately started jeering. "Wes, look in a mirror. You think you're worthy of Blaire? You aren't fit to tie her shoes." "If Carter and Blaire weren't fighting, do you think you'd get a scrap like that? Know your place, charity case." "Ugh, he smells like hospital disinfectant. Bad luck." Wes's mother was chronically ill. He spent every moment outside of school at the hospital. At the mention of the hospital, Wes's hands clenched into fists. His eyes turned icy. "I'll find a way to pay you back for the device. I don't want to be involved in anything else." He turned and walked away fast. I wanted to chase him, but Carter grabbed my wrist. "Blaire, we need to talk." He dragged me to the emergency stairwell. As soon as he let go, he leaned down to kiss me. He was good at this. Whenever he upset me, he used physical affection as a weapon. He knew I was weak for his face. When I was fifteen, I fell for that face. Back then, he ignored me. I was the chubby rich girl, invisible next to the slender, talented girls in our prep school. Until the day the Bentley picked me up, and the driver called me "Miss Blaire." That’s when Carter sat next to me. "What's your name?" From then on, we were inseparable. I thought it was love. In my past life, I engaged myself to him, ignoring the fact that he only loved my trust fund. But when my family went bankrupt—sabotaged by his family—he showed his true colors. "Every day with you was disgusting, Blaire. Look at yourself. Who could love you?" He set me up, forced me to break the engagement, and publicly dated Serena. I became the laughingstock of high society, eventually marrying Wes, who had also been ruined by Carter's schemes. "Blaire, why are you looking at me like that?" Carter held my face, his voice trembling. "Do you hate me because of him?" His eyes filled with a familiar, terrifying rage. "I'll have him expelled tomorrow. I'll ruin him." Slap. I hit him. Hard. It felt incredibly satisfying to bite the hand that starved me. "Carter, are you insane?" He didn't seem to feel the pain. Instead, he grabbed my hand, rubbing it against his cheek. "Blaire, you know how important being Valedictorian is to me. If I don't get into the Ivy of my choice, your dad won't let us marry. Wes trusts you now. For our future... help me knock him into the mud, okay? He belongs in the dirt." Carter was possessive. Over my money, over Serena, over his status. Looking at the malice in his eyes, I formulated a plan. "Okay," I said softly. "Let's do it." 4 News of my gift to Wes spread through the school like wildfire. For a week, everyone speculated about our relationship. "Wes hit the jackpot. Being handsome really pays the bills." "If the Princess took a liking to him, he doesn't even need to take the SATs. He can just be a trophy husband." "Hey Wes, have you kissed her yet? Is the bedding in a mansion softer? Bet it feels great." "Blaire isn't exactly a supermodel, but for that kind of money, I'd close my eyes and kiss her too." There are no secrets in prep school. These nasty comments found their way to me. I thought Wes would come to me—to demand an explanation, to clear his name. He didn't. After school, I waited by his classroom. It was empty, except for him sweeping the floor. It wasn't his turn for duty. "They're bullying you again?" Wes didn't answer. He kept sweeping. I sat on a desk. "I heard what they're saying. Why don't you deny it? Or tell me. I can make them stop." He set down the broom and looked at me. His uniform was old, washed too many times, but he smelled clean, like soap. "Would denying it help?" "If it doesn't help, there's no point in wasting breath." He walked past me to grab a rag. As he reached up to erase the chalkboard, his shirt lifted, revealing a sliver of toned abs. I was surprised. He was so thin, I didn't expect muscle. "Wes, you know Carter is targeting you. But if you stick with me, no one will touch you." I walked up to him. "Let me help you. Please?" Suddenly, he turned. We were inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my face. My heart skipped a beat. I stumbled backward off the dais. Wes caught my arm, steadying me. Once I was safe, he let go immediately. His voice was cold. "I told you. I'm not interested in whatever game you and Carter are playing." Eighteen-year-old Wes. Still so stubborn. But if he were easy to sway, he wouldn't be the man I loved. "It's not for Carter," I said, stepping closer so he couldn't miss the sincerity in my eyes. "It's for you." He held my gaze for half a second, then looked away, flustered. "Walk carefully next time." 5 A week later, we met again. This time, at the hospital. I skipped last period and found the ward where his mother was staying. I paid off her outstanding bills, moved her to a private VIP room, and hired the best caretakers. When Wes arrived, I was peeling an orange for his mom, listening to her stories about his childhood. "Your classmate is an angel, Wes," she said, holding my hand. "She's been keeping me company. She says the teachers love you." I winked at Wes. "Wes, I just saved you about four hours of caretaking work today. Shouldn't you repay me for that time?" Wes, who was slicing an apple, paused. "Okay." His voice was so quiet I almost missed it. "Huh?" He looked at me, his gaze intense. "You're right. That time belongs to you now." I smirked, leaning toward his ear. "In that case, go pack a bag. Starting tomorrow, you're moving into my house." "My parents are in Europe. It's just me and the housekeeper. It gets lonely. Come keep me company."
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