My dad is a tech mogul. My mom is an heiress. Together, they’re the Sterlings, a name you’ve probably seen in headlines. And me? I was just a straight-A student, plain and simple. Everyone says a good girl’s biggest weakness is a bad boy. So when Liam Ryder crooked a finger in my direction, I fell right in. I skipped class with him, got into fights with him, raced cars with him. I even deleted my applications to the Ivy Leagues and applied to the same community college he was going to. On graduation day, he stood beaming in front of the whole class, declaring victory. “See? Told you six months ago. Good girls are the easiest challenge there is.” I looked down at the acceptance letter from NYU in my hands, and I smiled, too. My mom always said that with my family and my grades, my future was destined to be blindingly bright. So I figured, if I was going to cause a little trouble, I’d better get it out of my system early. 1 I got back from the state academic decathlon to the sound of chatter spilling out of my homeroom. “Ugh, the mouse is back from another competition. I bet the principal gives her another damn award at the Monday assembly.” “I’m so sick of it. It’s always her, showing off. Can’t stand the sight of her.” “Seriously. That whole holier-than-thou act is disgusting. What can she even do besides ace every test?” “She can be born. Got the right parents, didn’t she? Hahaha…” My name is Claire Sterling. To my face, my classmates called me Claire. Behind my back, they called me “the mouse.” I leaned against the cool cinderblock wall in the hallway, waiting for the noise to die down. Just as I thought it was safe, my hand on the doorknob, I heard my name again. “Hey, who do you guys think a girl like Claire Sterling, a total bore, would even be into?” “What, you interested?” someone jeered. The guy laughed, a sly, mean edge to his voice. “Come on, wouldn’t you love to see the ice queen finally melt? I refuse to believe that if Claire Sterling actually got a boyfriend, she’d still be the perfect, untouchable saint the teachers are always gushing about.” “You’re not wrong. A good girl like her has probably never even held a guy’s hand. She wouldn’t go for someone sweet. It’d have to be someone with experience, someone who comes on strong. You know… like Liam Ryder?” “Oh my god. The delinquent and the valedictorian. That’s straight out of a novel.” The name Liam Ryder traced a line over my heart, leaving a tingling numbness in its wake. A long silence followed. Just when I thought the topic was over, Liam’s low voice drifted through the crack in the door. “Get lost. Girls like that are boring. I’d rather date a block of wood.” The room erupted in jeers. “Come on, Liam! Do it for all of us! You’ve gotta be the one!” “Yeah, man, if you can get Claire Sterling to fall for you, we’ll all chip in and get you a gift on graduation day. Whatever you want.” Liam laughed, a lazy, confident sound. “Alright. But a simple bet is no fun. Let’s make it interesting. If I can get her to go to community college with me, you guys can buy me that new carbon fiber helmet I’ve been eyeing.” Someone gasped. “No way. That’s impossible. Claire’s a shoo-in for the Ivy League. No matter how much she likes you, she’d never throw away her future for a guy.” Liam just chuckled again, sure of himself. “You guys just get the gift ready. And watch.” Everyone thought it was an impossible bet. Until I started skipping class, street racing, and even getting into fights right alongside Liam. Whatever Liam asked, I never said no. I earned a new nickname. They started calling me “the puppy.” A loyal little lap dog, trailing at Liam Ryder’s heels. 2 My parents’ status meant my life had to be a meticulously curated performance, one that could withstand the scrutiny of a magnifying glass. I had to be brilliant, but not so brilliant that people would whisper about my family pulling strings. I couldn’t be too quiet, or they’d call me the family’s great disappointment. My mother gave me the strategy: just be the perfect good girl who only knows how to get A’s. So, from my first day of school, wherever I went, I was number one. The first time I really saw Liam Ryder was at the freshman orientation assembly. He was so ridiculously good-looking that they’d made an exception and put him on stage as a student speaker. Nobody expected him to toss the prepared speech aside and lean into the microphone. “I’m Liam Ryder,” he’d said, his voice echoing through the auditorium. “If you’ve got a problem with that, find me after school.” From that day on, he was the school’s resident troublemaker, with a disciplinary record a mile long. I’d seen him once, decked out in a leather jacket, his long legs encased in tight black jeans as he swung one of them over a motorcycle and roared away. Sharp. Dangerous. Beautiful. I was jealous of every girl who had ever ridden on the back of that bike. They’d wrap their arms around his lean waist, shouting with joy into the wind as they sped off into a world of freedom. That evening, during last period study hall, I flipped through a calculus textbook to distract myself. I didn’t dare look up. I could feel Liam’s eyes on me, and they hadn’t moved for half the class. I knew he was about to make his move. The bet was on. When the final bell rang, I deliberately told my driver, Andrew, that he could go home without me. I had to give Liam his chance. A few minutes later, the roar of an engine grew closer. Liam cornered me in a narrow alleyway behind the gym, like a predator trapping its prey. “Be my girl.” He tilted his chin up, his eyes intense. “You only have one answer: yes.” His impossibly handsome lips were spouting the cheesiest lines I’d ever heard. If I wasn’t so captivated by his face, I might have laughed out loud. He moved closer, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. My mom always said a girl should be demure. I planned on playing hard to get, to draw it out for a few rounds. But I quickly discovered that his patience was shockingly thin. The very next day, I saw him tearing out of the school parking lot with a girl in a micro-mini skirt perched on the back of his bike, her arms wrapped tightly around him. That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, a pang of regret twisting in my stomach. Maybe… maybe I should have been more direct? Bolder? Suddenly, my phone rang, shattering the silence. It was him. His voice was a low, rough pant, like a brush scraping back and forth across my heart. “…Claire… hah… Claire…” “Come be with me. Be my girlfriend.” Clutching my bedsheets, I nodded silently into the phone. 3 My first time on the back of Liam’s motorcycle was on an afternoon we skipped school. It was my first time ever cutting class, but even more thrilling was the feeling of the wind rushing past my face. At first, I only dared to cling to the hem of his jacket. He must have felt how tense I was. At an intersection, he deliberately gunned the engine, and I slammed into his back. His hand, large and warm, covered mine and guided it to his waist. Beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, I could feel the hard ridges of his abs. It was a very nice feeling. I suddenly understood why our teachers were so adamant about us not dating. It really does mess with your studies. I was so busy reliving that sensation during my English exam that I completely missed an audio question. I still got first place, though. On Friday night, the principal called me in to discuss the upcoming decathlon. He had to step out for an emergency, so he told me to head back to class. As I stood at the classroom door, I heard my name again. It was Mark, the class president, leading the charge. “What’s up, Liam? You’re losing your touch. The mouse is dating you and her grades haven’t dropped one bit. Guess she doesn’t care about you that much, huh?” Mark was number two in our class, and number two in our grade. There’s nothing a teenage boy hates more than a challenge to his pride. Liam let out a cold laugh. “Just you wait. She’s so into me, she’ll do anything I say. Next month’s exams? I guarantee you, she’ll slip up.” Mark was practically vibrating with excitement. Three years. He’d been number two for three years. Was this finally his chance to take the top spot? During the next break, Liam found me. He leaned against my desk, a hint of a pout in his voice that was almost like a spoiled complaint. “Every time we have a test, you’re ranked so far ahead of me. It makes me feel like we’re not even in the same world.” I rushed to reassure him. “How can you say that? I’m with you now. We’re in the same world.” “You really like me? Then prove it.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth, deliberately missing their target. It was more like a cat’s scratch, leaving you itching for more. I’d never seen any of those old Hong Kong gangster movies, but I felt like the phrase “young and dangerous” fit him perfectly. He was intoxicating. On the last exam of the midterms—physics—I turned in a blank paper. Liam was leaning against the wall outside the testing center, waiting for me. I ran out, practically skipping, eager to show off. “Well? I didn’t write a single word.” A satisfied smile spread across his face, a smile warmer than the spring breeze and brighter than the stars. His beautiful face filled my vision as he leaned in and pressed a firm, rewarding kiss to my lips. I savored it for a moment. A fair trade. After that midterm, I was still ranked number one in our grade. The math and physics exams had been unusually difficult, and scores were low across the board. Even with a zero in physics, my near-perfect score in math put me on top. Mark, a six-foot-tall varsity basketball player, burst into tears right there in the hallway. Afterward, Liam was furious, his teeth clenched. He gripped my chin, his voice low and tight. “You played me.” I just blinked at him, an innocent smile on my face. “What are you talking about? It was just a coincidence.” We were arguing on the side of the road when a car horn blared behind us. Liam glanced back and reluctantly pushed me and the bike out of the way. From my seat on the motorcycle, I looked over and saw a Maybach. The license plate seemed familiar. “Claire?” A guy in a perfectly tailored suit stepped out of the car, calling my name uncertainly. I looked up. Of course it was him. Ethan Hayes was my oldest friend. We’d gone to private school together since we were kids, before I transferred to a public high school. Ethan walked closer, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. He didn’t say anything, but a sly, knowing smile played on his lips. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, revealing a matching, custom-made vest, and slid his hands into his pockets. “Doing well?” he asked. “Well enough,” I replied. The conversation was brief, but he shot a long, meaningful look at Liam before getting back in his car and driving away. Ethan was just… so much more mature. Compared to his polished, sophisticated presence, Liam suddenly looked young, almost clumsy. In a strange way, I was grateful to Ethan. I had fallen for Liam’s siege too quickly. Aside from the times he was actively trying to distract me from my studies, he didn't pay much attention to me, often taking that devastatingly handsome face of his and flirting with anyone who looked his way. Ethan’s appearance was the first time Liam had ever felt a sense of crisis. Because Ethan was a type of man he could never surpass, never beat. 4 For the first time, he turned down the bombshell with a chest that entered the room before she did. And I, for the first time in my life, was challenged to a fight. The bombshell, dressed head-to-toe in leopard print, cornered me at the school gate. Behind her stood five cronies, their hair dyed a rainbow of six different colors. “So you’re the little bookworm who won’t let go of Liam?” “You don’t actually think he’s serious about you, do you?” “He’s just having fun with you. Once the novelty wears off, you’ll be nothing. I suggest you go back to being a nerd and stop trying to steal my man.” I found the whole thing fascinating. I watched, amused, as she and her little gang tried to intimidate me. Her long, acrylic nail poked me in the forehead. “You dare steal my man? Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Tonight, after school, the parking lot across the street. Bring as many people as you can. We’ll see who’s left standing.” She spun on her heel and strutted away, the picture of cool confidence. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911, giving them an anonymous tip about a potential public disturbance. That night, Liam showed up at my door, looking frantic, his eyes blazing with fury. “Claire, was it you? Did you call the cops?” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, demanding answers on behalf of another woman. I slowly brought my hands up, wrapping them around his neck, my fingers playing lightly around his Adam’s apple. “Liam, do you remember whose boyfriend you are?” His expression soured. “What, you think you can control me?” “Let me tell you something. Even if you are my girlfriend, you don’t get to meddle in my business.” I flicked my finger hard against his throat. He yelped in pain, letting go of me and stumbling back, clutching his neck. I smiled at him sweetly. “Think about it carefully before you answer.” He stared at me, surprised. Something was different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He hadn’t understood one simple thing. He wanted to conquer a girl, win a bet, claim a prize. The key to all of it was me. I was the one who could walk away at any moment and leave him with nothing. 5 Liam didn’t even realize it was happening, but he started spending more and more time with me. I never asked anything of him, yet he began to proactively check in, telling me where he was going. And for every step he took closer, my grade on the next test would drop by five points. In the hallways, his friends would give him discreet thumbs-ups, whispering, “Liam, you’re the man!” Mark, the class president, started treating him like a king, buying him sodas and snacks every few days. Fueled by their admiration, he redoubled his efforts, becoming even more attached. And then, it was the day to submit our college choices. My SAT scores were solid. I could have my pick of any top-tier university. The cursor blinked on the college application portal. I was waiting for someone. A light rain began to fall as night settled in. Liam climbed through my open window, completely soaked, rainwater dripping from his hair onto my white carpet. The sight of him, so vulnerable and tragically beautiful, was a stark contrast to his usual swagger. It was enough to soften anyone’s heart. He glanced at my computer screen, and his eyes instantly reddened. “I heard you did really well on your finals… Where are you going to apply?” I dabbed at his wet hair with a towel, answering casually, “Probably somewhere in New York.” He suddenly pulled me into a fierce hug, his voice tight. “I don’t want to be without you. Don’t go to New York. Let’s go to the same school, okay?” My hand froze. I looked at this boy, who was suddenly showing me such weakness. He really, really wanted that new helmet. If my cousin, who was hopelessly addicted to K-dramas, were here, she would have been screaming like a banshee. “Someone who truly loves you wants you to be better! They don’t drag you down to hell with them!” But for me, seeing his need so clearly just meant it was time to negotiate my payment. With his arms still wrapped around me, Liam used the mouse to delete every single one of my Ivy League choices, replacing them with the local community college he was applying to. The moment he clicked “submit,” he let out a long, satisfied sigh. Since I had paid his price, it was time for me to collect my reward. I slid my hand under his shirt, slowly moving it upward. His eyes shot open. He looked around nervously, sputtering, “…Let’s get a room.” “No one’s home…” I silenced his protests with a kiss. Who wanted to go to some small, dirty motel room? My room was warm and spacious, my bed soft and strong. This was where I would enjoy my prize. After that night, we didn’t speak again. Not until the first round of acceptance letters came out, and the school called us back to campus. The classroom, now without me, was as boisterous as ever. A crowd had formed around Liam, everyone talking at once. “So, how’s it feel, man? You put up with that good girl for a whole semester. You must be so ready to be done with her!” “No kidding. If it wasn’t for the bet, you think our boy Liam would’ve put himself through that?” “So what’s next? Are you gonna dump the mouse? I call dibs on a front-row seat. I can’t wait to see her pathetic, tear-streaked face, hahaha…” One by one, they presented their gifts to Liam. He accepted them all, grinning from ear to ear. The entire class was celebrating, genuinely celebrating the fact that one of their classmates, because of a stupid bet, had just thrown her entire future away. I turned and looked down into the school’s main courtyard. The principal was walking toward the entrance, greeting a reporter from the local news station. I covered my face with my hand and laughed. Oh, Liam. I’m so sorry, but the party’s over. 6 When I first transferred to this public high school, I genuinely wanted to get along with everyone. After all, I’d understood the importance of networking from a very young age. But I quickly realized it wasn’t going to work. Problems that I could solve with a single glance, they would ask the teacher to explain over and over again. I was actually very patient. I had simpler ways of solving them, methods that were easier to understand than the teacher’s. I waited for someone, anyone, to ask me. But they would just glance at my perfect test paper and mutter disdainfully. “So she got them all right. What’s the big deal?” I thought maybe I wasn’t being friendly enough. Sharing is a basic social courtesy. So I brought in some imported chocolates my uncle had given me and passed them around to my classmates. They raved about them. “Whoa, you can tell these are imported. They’re amazing!” “I looked it up online. A box like this costs hundreds of dollars. Claire must have brought in like, seven or eight boxes, right?” I smiled, thinking I was finally making a connection. But then someone threw one of the empty boxes on the floor. Our class lost points during the daily cleanliness inspection, and our homeroom teacher flew into a rage. Every finger in the room pointed at me. “It was Claire. She brought the chocolates. Her family has a little money and she doesn’t know how to act.” “Yeah, so what if they’re imported? Does she have to show them off at school?” After class, Mrs. Davison, my homeroom teacher, called me into her office and, in front of all the other teachers, chewed me out. “I know your family is influential, Claire, but as your teacher, it is my duty to educate you, and I’m not afraid of you running home and telling your parents!” “From now on, do not bring your rich-girl attitude to this school. This is a place for learning, not a place for you to make friends!” In that moment, I finally understood what my father had been trying to teach me. Private school and public school were two entirely different ecosystems. The rules I had learned before no longer applied. I abandoned any hope of making friends. I stopped holding back, stopped hiding my abilities. I locked down the number one rank in our grade, leaving second place dozens of points behind. I started representing the school in academic competitions, competitions our school had never even qualified for before. The teachers and the principal treated me like a precious treasure, their faces beaming whenever they saw me. Meanwhile, my classmates’ resentment only grew. It was as if their own mediocrity was somehow my fault. They started hiding my textbooks, tearing up my assignments, stealing my chair. When I was looking for my things, they would trip me as a “joke,” and the whole class would erupt in laughter. “Oh, careful there. That’s the little princess of Sterling Tech. Wouldn’t want her big-shot CEO daddy to come after a little guy like me, would we?” They hated me, but they were too afraid to do anything serious. Just petty pranks and cruel jokes that Mrs. Davison always chose to ignore. Gossip is poison to those at the top. The first person who tormented me faced no consequences, so the others slowly grew bolder. That was the first time I truly understood why, of the seven deadly sins, one of them was something as seemingly insignificant as envy. Envy makes people ugly. 7 I pushed open the classroom door, and the room fell instantly silent. Everyone had a strange expression on their face. Liam was so nervous he started to stammer. “Wh-when did you get here? You were so quiet.” I feigned confusion, pulling an earbud out of my ear. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” The rest of them let out a collective sigh of relief. Just then, a student from another class ran in, breathless with news. “Hey! A reporter from the local news is here!” “They said they’re just getting some footage from each class. Mrs. Davison told us to look enthusiastic when they come in.” The reporter and her cameraman came into our classroom like they owned the place. “Alright everyone, no need to be nervous. I’ll just ask a few questions, and whoever I point to can just give a simple answer.” Everyone nodded obediently. The first person they interviewed was Mark, the class president. He’d done well on his finals and had gotten into a good university in California. He confidently shared his reflections on the college entrance exams and offered some words of encouragement to future students. Then, he looked over at me, his eyes glinting with malice. “The princess of Sterling Tech is in our class, too. Why don’t we let her say a few words?” Someone behind me gave me a hard shove, pushing me directly into the reporter’s surprised line of sight. The camera swung around to focus on me. “Young lady, how did you do on your exams this year? What universities did you apply to?” Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at me, dripping with ill will. I looked at the microphone and the camera lens, and suddenly, I felt the urge to put on a show. I adopted a look of distress, glancing nervously toward Liam, as if begging for help. He just shot me a single look before dropping his head, his expression cold and indifferent. The grand play they had so carefully prepared was finally reaching its climax. Even though I remained silent, my classmates were more than happy to help. They crowded around, speaking over each other into the camera. “Our Claire used to be number one in the grade. With her scores, she could have gotten into Harvard or Yale, no problem. The principal poured all of our school’s resources into her. Whichever class she was in, that’s where they put the best teachers. But it’s such a shame…” The reporter, sensing a story, pressed on. “A shame? What’s a shame?” “It’s a shame that ever since Claire got a boyfriend, she’s just gone completely downhill. It’s senior year, and she started skipping class. I heard some people from off-campus even tried to pick a fight with her. Tsk, tsk. If that were me, my dad would have broken my legs.” “I also heard that to go to the same college as her boyfriend, she deleted all her applications to top universities and only applied to a community college!” “Oh my god, is she crazy? How could she do that to her parents, her teachers, and this school?” The reporter and cameraman exchanged uneasy glances. They had planned on giving the Sterling Tech heiress a glowing feature, but this… this was something they couldn’t possibly air. Their jobs would be on the line. Noticing the reporter was about to signal for the camera to be cut, one of the students, who had already started a livestream on her phone, spoke up. By now, a crowd of online viewers had flooded in to watch the drama unfold. [Is this for real? The Sterling heiress is really this wild?] [She’s a disgrace. Wasting all the resources the school gave her. What a stupid, lovesick fool.] [How did the Sterlings raise their kid? Our city only gets a handful of kids into the Ivy Leagues each year, and she just throws it away?] [CEOs like them are too busy making money to pay attention to their own kids. Be glad she wasn’t using her family’s power to bully other students. You really expect her to care about school?] Jessica, the head of the social committee, stepped forward. She put a comforting arm around me while angling her face perfectly for the livestream camera. “Claire, maybe you should just take a gap year and reapply. Don’t waste such high scores.” She leaned in, whispering so only I could hear, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Although… I hear reapplying is really stressful. Some students do even worse the second time around. But don’t you worry. When we’re all away at college, we’ll be sure to come back and visit you!” Out of the camera’s view, she shot me a defiant, triumphant look. I understood why Mark hated me; I was always one step ahead of him. But Jessica was an arts student. What beef did she have with me? Just then, my eyes met Liam’s across the room. Jessica, noticing his gaze, tilted her head back, showing off the long, elegant line of her neck. Ah. I see. So that’s what this was about.
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