The scholarship revocation notice hit Lena's inbox at exactly 9:03 AM.
I sipped my latte, watching from my usual corner table in the cafeteria as she opened the email. Her fingers trembled around her phone. The color drained from her face like someone had pulled a plug.
Kieran, ever the knight in shining armor, noticed immediately.
*"Lena? What's wrong?"*
She turned the screen toward him, her lips moving soundlessly. His brows furrowed, then—*there it was*—the flash of helplessness in his eyes.
I smiled into my coffee.
---
**Step Two** required precision.
The dean received the photos at 12:47 PM—just in time for his post-lunch review. Lena, red plastic cup in hand, laughing on some frat boy's lap. Lena, eyes glassy, stumbling into a dark bedroom. Lena, her shirt slipping off one shoulder, caught in a moment that *could* be innocent.
*If you squinted.*
But context was everything.
The accompanying anonymous email was artfully vague:
*"Concerned student here. Not sure if this violates campus conduct policies, but given her recent scholarship revocation, I thought you should know the type of person we're dealing with."*
I hit *send* and leaned back in my chair, stretching like a satisfied cat.
---
By 3 PM, rumors slithered through the halls.
*"Did you hear? Lena lost her scholarship because she failed a drug test."*
*"No, I heard she was sleeping with Professor Hayes for grades."*
*"I saw the pics—total trainwreck."*
I let the whispers curl around me, savoring the way Kieran's shoulders tensed every time Lena's name hissed past.
He texted me during fourth period:
*"Can we talk tonight?"*
I waited seventeen minutes before responding:
*"My place. 8 PM."*
---
He arrived early, his knuckles white around a six-pack of that awful light beer he used to love.
I took the bottles from him, my fingers lingering just a second too long. *"Let's open something better."*
The wine was expensive—smooth enough to erase his resistance, dry enough to make his lips purse in that adorable way.
He drank too fast.
*Good.*
"I don't know what to believe anymore," he muttered, staring into his glass.
I curled beside him on the couch, close enough that our thighs touched. *"About Lena?"*
He flinched. *"She's just… not who I thought she was."*
I hid my smile in my wine.
*Perfect.*
---
The tears came around the third glass.
*"We've been friends since we were kids,"* he choked out. *"How could she lie to me?"*
I stroked his hair, letting him bury his face in my neck. His breath was hot against my skin, his body heavy with the weight of betrayal.
*My weight now.*
*"People change,"* I whispered, tilting his chin up. *"But I never will."*
His lips tasted like salt and Cabernet.
When he pulled away, his eyes were dark with something new—something desperate.
*"Stay,"* I murmured against his mouth.
He did.