Chapter 3: Tap Water and Small Mercies

Cassidy probably hadn’t expected that and was stunned. Finally, sitting on the desk, she burst out laughing and exclaimed, “Oh my god, Mason, you really are something. I thought you’d throw the money in my face and tell me to get lost, but why should I give you such a big cut?”

Her laughter echoed down the hallway, drawing more curious stares. It was the first time I’d seen her genuinely caught off guard.

He answered calmly, “Because only if I agree to cooperate can you both win money and save face. Either way you look at it, it’s a good deal, right?”

He shrugged, cool as ever, as if he were just negotiating a group project.

Cassidy was delighted, reached out for a high five, and said, “Deal.”

She slapped his hand, grinning, the kind of grin that meant she’d found someone who could keep up with her.

The corners of Mason’s mouth lifted slightly. The late summer sunlight poured through the window, gilding his profile with a golden glow—so bright and intense, yet his eyes stayed cold.

For a second, I thought he looked almost untouchable, like he belonged to another world. The sunlight made the dust motes swirl around him, and I felt something stir in my chest.

Until he turned his head and met my gaze through the window.

His eyes met mine—steady, questioning—and I felt a jolt of embarrassment, like I’d been caught eavesdropping on a secret. My cheeks flushed, and I ducked my head.

He paused, a little surprised. I quickly looked away, walked into the classroom, grabbed my physics workbook, and left as if nothing had happened.

I kept my stride steady, pretending not to notice the hush behind me, the way their eyes followed me out.

Cassidy called after me, “Hey, Lauren, keep it a secret, don’t tell anyone about my deal with Mason, or I’ll be a laughingstock.”

I paused at the door, glancing back with a raised eyebrow, letting her know I’d heard but giving nothing away. Secrets in our school were currency, and I’d learned to keep my cards close.

I turned back and looked at them indifferently, saying nothing.

Cassidy muttered, “Seriously, what’s with the attitude? Without Evan, who are you?”

Her words stung more than I let on, but I kept my face neutral, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She said to Mason, not bothering to lower her voice, “I’m really sick of these old-money families, always looking down on people. The bluebloods look down on us nouveau riche, and we nouveau riche look down on you scholarship kids. The pecking order here is so strict, you’d think we’re stuck in a mean girls movie. It’s so boring.”

She rolled her eyes, and for a moment, I almost agreed with her. The school was a microcosm of everything wrong with the world—money, power, and the endless game of who’s better than who.

I didn’t hear Mason reply.

His silence said more than words ever could. Some things didn’t need to be dignified with a response.