Chapter 3

The crack of the slap rang through the classroom. Monica stumbled back two steps, her hand flying to her cheek, her carefully styled bangs falling loose. Her eyes went wide, like she couldn't believe what had just happened. The rhinestones on her nails caught the sunlight.

"Dallas! You actually hit me!" Her shriek was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

I shook out my stinging hand. "That's for overstepping. What gave you the right to hand my things to someone else?"

The classroom exploded.

"Dallas, have you lost it?"

"It's just a game console — seriously?"

"He hit his own girlfriend!"

"Rich kids think they can do anything!"

Gerald rushed to steady Monica, then turned on me. "Dallas, Monica was just trying to do something nice for everyone. What is your problem?"

I picked my things up off the floor and calmly tucked the VIP card into my pocket. "My position is simple. Not lending it."

Monica shook Gerald off and charged at me. "Dallas! Give that card to Gerald right now and apologize to both of us, or we're done. I don't want a boyfriend who's this small-minded!"

"Give it back? It was mine to begin with. Give it back to who, exactly?"

I stepped past her reach. A small smile tugged at my lips. "If you want to break up, fine. Saves me a breakup gift."

That set her off completely. Monica was shaking. "You — you think I care about your money?"

"Don't care about it?" I glanced at the Cartier watch on her wrist. "Then hand back the birthday present I got you last week."

Her face went white. Her free hand instinctively moved to cover the watch.

The looks on everyone's faces around us turned complicated.

Class president Rafael shoved back his chair and slammed his hand on the desk. "Dallas, you're being completely selfish! Gerald is paying for everyone to go to Vegas and you can't do one thing for the group?"

"Exactly," other voices piled on. "Always acted so laid-back, but when it matters he shows his real colors."

I looked around the room. Familiar faces, but strangers to me now. These were the same people who'd stood in a courtroom in my past life and said I'd killed myself.

"Gerald's taking you to Vegas. Go ask Gerald for what you need. Why are you coming to me?"

Gerald stepped forward again. "If we use your VIP card, all our spending counts toward your points and moves you up a tier. It's a win for everyone."

Monica pressed close to Gerald's side. The pain in her cheek seemed to have disappeared entirely.

"He's so thoughtful. Even after how Dallas just acted, Gerald's still looking out for him."

"Since everyone wants to go to Vegas so badly..." I reached into my wallet and slowly pulled out a card. "Fine. Here."

Gerald's face lit up. He reached for it.

I flipped it over.

It was a campus meal card.

"Are you messing with me?" Gerald's face darkened.

"Right back at you." I flipped the card through my fingers. "Isn't that exactly what you were doing to me — trying to guilt me into it?"

Monica grabbed the box of chalk off the teacher's desk and hurled it at me. "Dallas! I must have been blind to ever get involved with you!"

I stepped aside. Chalk scattered across the floor.