Chapter 1
Solenne Marlow, who bullied me in high school, was convinced that I had stolen her spot at Northwood University. On the very first day I reported to campus, she sent her handsome childhood friend, Riven Thayer, to pursue me.
Her plan was to have him win me over, make me lose interest in my studies, and then publicly dump me in the most humiliating way once the scandal had spread. She even started a secret poll with a prize on the school forum, asking: How long will it take to make this ice-cold, bookish top student fall in love?
The person whose guess was closest to the actual time would win the entire prize pool. Some said that since I was a conservative, straight-A student, it would take at least three years to break through my defenses. Others were convinced that my cold, aloof demeanor was merely a façade—and that once I fell, I would fall completely and irreversibly.
The thread keeps blowing up, and the prize pot keeps getting bigger.
Standing unseen in the shadows, I watch it all in silence, then curl my lips into a faint smirk.
I created an anonymous account and opened the forum. In this gambling game set up to hunt me down, I threw down my own wager: three weeks.
After all, the one who would call the result—was me.
*****
I was walking past the student lounge when I overheard Riven Thayer and his wealthy group of friends talking about the betting pool.
Just then, a tuition reminder popped up on my phone from the school.
Student Accounts Office: Dear Darya Thatcher, your tuition payment is twenty days past due. Please settle the balance promptly to avoid disruption to your enrollment.
As the top state exam scorer admitted to Northwood University, most of my tuition had been waived.
But even with that, adding up housing, textbooks, and other fees, I was still three thousand dollars short.
Through the half-open door, the boy's voice carried clearly, excited and casual.
"Thayer, why don't we bump the prize up to ten thousand?"
Riven's lips curled faintly, his sharp profile lit by a half-shadow in the room.
"Ten thousand is too low. Make it a hundred thousand."
I held my breath, my pulse picking up fast.
A hundred thousand dollars was nothing more than a designer suit or a pair of limited-edition sneakers for someone like Riven Thayer.
To me? It would mean never having to scramble to survive for the next four years of college.
I stood in the quiet hallway for a full minute, thinking it through, then pulled out my phone and quietly logged into the campus forum.
The thread was pinned right at the top, blowing up with comments nonstop.
A: [A hundred thousand! Thayer really doesn't hold back!]
B: [Heard Darya's this year's top state scorer, all brains and zero personality, like she's stuck in the 1900s. I say minimum three years.]
C: [C'mon! I saw her downtown at the bar last weekend, looking way hotter than anyone expected. Bet she acts all ice-cold but is wild behind closed doors... three months, easy!]
Scrolling through the comments, I silently calculated the odds of each guess in my head: three years, three months... they were all taking too long. I had to win that prize money—and fast.
All through high school, I tutored younger kids, picked up every odd job I could find, and finally set aside enough to cover all four years.
But the night before orientation, my father came home dead drunk.
While I slept, he took every last dollar of my savings to spoil his new girlfriend.
When I left home, my backpack felt so light it might as well have been empty.
All I carried was sheer stubbornness, and exhaustion that settled deep in my bones.
I was stretched paper-thin, tutoring on weekdays, pulling shifts serving drinks at the bar every night, every shift left me completely drained.
This time, I decided to take the shortcut. This gambling game revolves around me—I ought to be the one to win it, too.
I made a new anonymous account with the username Freya, and placed my bet on the game everyone was playing, centered on me and Riven Thayer.
Rain: [I'm putting my money in three weeks.]
