Letting that cheater walk away scot-free felt wrong on every level. At the very least, I needed to get back the money he'd "borrowed."

Having overheard the restaurant name from Cecilia's not-so-subtle bragging, I decided to crash their little date the next day.


When I pushed through the doors, the restaurant was buzzing with energy.

Through the crowd, I spotted Simon—holding a bouquet of champagne roses in one hand and a small velvet box in the other—gazing adoringly at Cecilia across their table.

"The meaning of champagne roses is 'loving you is my life's greatest happiness,'" he was saying, his voice carrying across the room. "Which perfectly captures how I feel about you, Cece..."


"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Those words—those exact words—hit me like a punch to the gut. I nearly gagged.


Same script, different flowers. Guess the price tag on the bouquet showed exactly how he valued each of us.

People at nearby tables started cheering and clapping. Cecilia's face showed perfectly rehearsed surprise as she opened her mouth to accept.

"WAIT!"

I shoved through the crowd and marched straight to their table.

Their heads snapped toward me in unison. Cecilia looked annoyed, but Simon—Simon looked like he'd seen a ghost.

I fixed him with an icy stare. "Well, Simon," I said loudly enough for nearby tables to hear, "now that you've found yourself an heiress to leech off, how about returning the ten grand you borrowed from me?"

Simon attempted to look composed, though his eyes darted everywhere but my face. "Excuse me," he said with exaggerated disgust, "but take a look at yourself. How could I possibly know someone like you?"

Without another word, I pulled out my phone and dialed. Instantly, his pocket lit up and "Beyond My Years" by The Weeknd—his favorite song—blared from his phone.

The color drained from Simon's face. I hung up and cocked an eyebrow. "Still want to play dumb?"

Simon stared at the floor, his face cycling between embarrassed red and sickly white.

Cecilia, finally catching on, shot me a venomous glare before grabbing her designer purse and storming out.

Simon tried to chase after her, but I grabbed his arm. "Either admit you're a spineless coward and I'll write off this money as charity to strays, or pay up. Your choice."

He clenched his fist, his eyes flashing with hatred, before he finally muttered, "I don't have that kind of cash right now. Can I pay in installments?"

"Fine. You've got two weeks. Miss a payment, and I'm going straight to the police. Then you can kiss your precious student council presidency goodbye."