Chapter 3

Mason stared in shock as I stuffed the money into his pocket.

“You?”

I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing with my smile.

“My name is Ava Carter. I’m your new deskmate. Please keep helping me from now on.”

Mason’s expression darkened as he looked out the window.

We sat in the last row, where no one could see us clearly.

And thanks to Mason’s reputation, hardly anyone ever looked in our direction.

I glanced around, then cautiously touched his wrist.

“Can I hold your hand?”

“I’ll pay you. I don’t have any cash on me right now, but I can bring it this afternoon.”

Mason shot to his feet.

The legs of his chair screeched loudly against the floor.

His face and neck turned bright red as he hid his hand behind his back.

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

By that afternoon, the gossip that I was dating two guys had spread through the entire school.

I had toyed with the feelings of the school heartthrob, Ethan Cole, and now I was pursuing the school bully, Mason Reed.

Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of fearless warrior.

I calmly gathered information about Mason.

Having people avoid me out of fear was still better than having them avoid me out of disgust.

Mason really was short on money. His parents didn’t care about him, and he survived on government assistance.

The school turned a blind eye to his protection racket.

For one thing, high school students didn’t have much money.

For another, Mason’s reputation kept Westbrook High safe. No street punks dared hang around the school.

So, to sum it up:

A weak mother.

A sinister stepfather.

And a fierce, broken boy.

I nodded in satisfaction.

He needed money, and I had money.

No one took care of him, and no one took care of me either.

My parents were always traveling for work and sometimes didn’t come home for months.

I immediately paid a lawyer to draft a contract and prepared a suitcase stuffed with cash.

Everything was ready.

All I needed was Mason.

Mason covered his stomach with one hand and leaned quietly against his chair with his eyes closed.

I deliberately opened the lid of the insulated container.

The classroom instantly filled with the mouthwatering scent of food.

Mason frowned with difficulty. His nose twitched almost imperceptibly.

Then he lay facedown on his desk and buried his head in his arms.

I poked his shoulder.

“Mason, time to eat.”

Mason clenched his teeth. His eyes were complicated.

“Why?”

I resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks and answered seriously,

“I’m trying to win you over. I need your help with something important.”

Mason relaxed slightly.

“What is it?”

I set the lunchbox in front of him and propped my chin on my hand.

“Eat first.”

Mason ate in large mouthfuls, but he wasn’t rude about it.

He treated the food with a kind of respect and gratitude that made him strangely appetizing to watch.

Because I kept staring, every joint in his body gradually turned pink.

The tips of his ears grew so red they looked ready to drip blood.