Chapter 1
On the night of my coming-of-age ceremony, I was locked in the school bathroom by my childhood friend.
“Celeste’s family isn’t well-off, she’s just a little envious that you can have such a luxurious ceremony. Did you really need to accuse her of being jealous of the rich?”
“Just let her have tonight’s banquet, consider it your apology.”
After delivering this ultimatum, he turned and walked away with his arm around Celeste.
Wait, who does he think he is?!
What gave him the audacity to just give away my things to someone else?!
I immediately called the restaurant manager.
“Cancel my reserved private room for tonight. Any consumption incurred has nothing to do with me!”
You love luxury so much?
Fine, let me give you a taste of it.
But… that private room has a minimum charge starting at $50,000.
A financial aid student and an unwanted bastard – I’d love to see what you two plan to pay with!
…
One second before the Friday dismissal bell rang, the new transfer student, Celeste Hartwell, drifted over to my desk like some evil spirit.
She gripped a worn-out water bottle tightly in both hands, and stammered out her opening line.
“Daphne Ashworth… I heard… I heard you booked a private room at ‘Crystal Lounge’ for your eighteenth birthday party tonight?”
I was packing up my stuff and didn’t even bother looking up, just let out a barely audible “Mmm” from my throat.
But apparently, my attitude struck a nerve.
SLAM!
She smashed her water bottle down on my desk so hard it made my pencil case jump.
The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes locked onto us.
“Daphne, don’t you think you’re being ridiculously wasteful?”
Her voice shot up an octave, trembling with that performative, champion-of-the-people vibe.
“You’re just a high school student! Even if you’re turning eighteen today, throwing a party at a place like that—seriously? I heard Crystal Lounge has a minimum spend of fifty grand! Do you have any idea what that kind of money means to some people?!”
She was practically vibrating with righteous indignation, her eyes turning red on cue, like I wasn’t planning a birthday party but preparing for some kind of massacre.
Whispers started rippling through the classroom.
“Jesus, here she goes again. Total moral police.”
“Remember when Tyler wore those limited edition sneakers? She went off on him too, saying the money could’ve fed her family for a year…”
Listening to these discussions, I slowly and deliberately looked over the person in front of me—from her canvas shoes that were worn almost beyond recognition, to her faded tracksuit, all the way up, finally stopping at her face that was flushed red with indignation.
Then I let out one word, drawing it out nice and slow:
“So?”
That single “so” was light as air, but it hit like an invisible slap.
Celeste’s face went from red to white in an instant. She looked like she’d been mortally insulted, her lips trembling, unable to get a single word out. Finally, she covered her face and ran out of the room sobbing.
The moment she bolted, my childhood friend Archer Sterling made his grand entrance.
He walked over with his brows furrowed, tapping my desk twice—tap tap—like a warning.
“Daphne, that was way out of line.”
His voice carried that disappointed, lecturing tone.
“You know Celeste’s family doesn’t have money, and she’s sensitive about it. Why’d you have to look at her like that? What’s the point of showing off in front of her?”
I felt my blood pressure spike. These two idiots and their pathetic little soap opera were seriously testing my patience.
“Archer, which eye saw me showing off? She’s the one who inexplicably came over to question me—how did it become my fault?”
“And another thing, that’s not being ‘sensitive’—she’s just a jealous bitch who can’t stand seeing rich people exist!”
Archer’s frown deepened into a full scowl, like he was completely fed up with my “unreasonable” behavior.
“I can’t even talk to you anymore!”
Without another glance my way, he spun around and chased after his precious little victim.
I watched his retreating figure with cold amusement.
What a fucking joke. Both of them.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall, not wanting to deal with any more of their drama.
But when I finished up and tried to push the door open—
The bathroom door was locked from the outside.
