Payback at Riverside

The thing about getting your heart ripped out in public is that everyone remembers it. They remember what you were wearing. They remember the look on your face. And they definitely remember the girl who did it. I was wearing my only good suit—the black one I'd bought at a thrift store and had tailored to fit. It was the Fall Gala at Riverside University, the biggest social event of the semester, and I thought I was going with my girlfriend. Turns out, I was wrong about that. "Jake, we need to talk." Those four words. Ashley Brooks grabbed my arm just as I was heading to get us drinks from the bar. The ballroom was packed with students dressed like they were attending the Oscars. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and a live band played jazz music in the corner. This was Riverside—where even student events looked like they cost more than my entire scholarship. "Can it wait?" I smiled at her, taking in how beautiful she looked in that blue dress. Her blonde hair was pulled back, showing off the diamond earrings I knew her dad had bought her for her birthday. "I was just getting your favorite—" "No, it can't wait." Her voice was cold. Different. I'd never heard her sound like that before. My stomach dropped. Something was wrong. She pulled me toward the corner of the ballroom, away from the crowd. I followed, confused, my mind racing through every conversation we'd had in the past week. Had I done something wrong? Forgotten something important? "Ashley, what's going on?" She took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eyes. No warmth there. Just ice. "I'm breaking up with you." The words hit me like a punch to the gut. "What? Why? Did I do something—" "It's not working out," she said, her voice flat. "We want different things. We're from different worlds, Jake. I think we both knew this was coming." "I didn't know that." My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "I thought we were good. I thought—" "Well, we're not." She glanced over her shoulder, and I followed her gaze. That's when I saw him. Ryan Mitchell, standing by the bar in a custom suit that probably cost more than my entire year's tuition. He was watching us, a smirk on his face. Everything clicked into place. "You're leaving me for him?" I couldn't believe it. "For Ryan Mitchell?" Ashley had the decency to look slightly uncomfortable. "His father owns half the tech companies in Silicon Valley, Jake. Ryan's going places. He can offer me things you never could." "Like what? Money?" The anger was rising now, pushing past the hurt. "I thought you weren't like that. You told me you didn't care about that stuff." "I lied." She shrugged, like she was talking about the weather. "Look, you're a nice guy. You'll find someone else. Someone more... suitable for your situation." My situation. Code for poor. "So that's it? A year together and you're just done?" "Yes." She straightened her shoulders. "I'm sorry if this hurts you, but I have to think about my future. Ryan and I are better matched. His family knows my family. It just makes sense." People were starting to notice us now. I could see heads turning, whispers starting. This was exactly what she wanted—to dump the scholarship kid in front of everyone, to show that she was moving up. "You could have done this privately," I said quietly. "Why here?" For a second—just a second—I saw something like guilt flash across her face. But it was gone as quickly as it came. "Goodbye, Jake. I hope you understand someday." She turned to walk away. "Ashley, wait—" She didn't wait. She walked straight across the ballroom to where Ryan was standing. He pulled her close, kissed her cheek, and looked directly at me over her shoulder. That smirk got wider. I stood there, frozen, as everyone stared. The music kept playing. People kept dancing. But I felt like the whole world had stopped spinning. Tyler found me five minutes later, still standing in the same spot like an i***t. "Dude." He grabbed my shoulder. "I just heard. Are you okay?" "She dumped me for Ryan Mitchell." I was still processing it. "In front of everyone." "Yeah, I saw." Tyler was my roommate and best friend, a guy I'd known since freshman orientation. He was one of the few people at Riverside who didn't care that I was on scholarship. "Ashley's a piece of work, man. You're better off without her." "It doesn't feel like it." Across the room, Ashley was laughing at something Ryan said. She looked happy. Happier than I'd seen her in weeks, maybe. Had she been planning this? How long had she been seeing him behind my back? "Come on." Tyler started pulling me toward the exit. "Let's get out of here. This party sucks anyway." "Everyone's staring." "Let them stare. Who cares?" But I could hear the anger in Tyler's voice. He cared. He knew what this meant—by Monday, everyone on campus would be talking about how Ashley Brooks traded up, left the poor kid for the rich one. We made it out to the parking lot before I completely lost it. Tyler didn't say anything, just stood there while I punched the side of his beat-up Honda and tried not to cry. "A year, TK," I said, using his nickname. "We were together for almost a year." "I know." "I told her things. About my family, about why I'm here, about—" I stopped. The rest was too pathetic to say out loud. I'd told her I loved her. Three weeks ago, right before fall break. She'd said it back. Had that been a lie too? "You know what the worst part is?" I leaned against the car. "She's right. I can't offer her anything. I'm here on scholarship. I work two jobs just to afford books. My parents drive a fifteen-year-old truck. Ryan Mitchell probably spends more on a night out than my family makes in a month." "So what?" Tyler crossed his arms. "That doesn't make you less than him." "Doesn't it though?" The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. "Look at this place, TK. Look at Riverside. Everyone here is rich. Their parents own companies, sit on boards, play golf with senators. And then there's me—the charity case." "You earned your spot here. You're smarter than half these spoiled brats." "Smart doesn't matter when you're broke." We stood in silence for a while. The night was cold, and I could hear the music from the ballroom drifting out through the open windows. Someone laughed—high and bright. It might have been Ashley. "What am I going to do?" I asked finally. Tyler thought about it. "You're going to go back to the dorm, change out of that suit, and tomorrow you're going to act like nothing happened. You're not going to give her or Ryan or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing you broken." "I am broken." "Then fake it till you make it." He pulled out his keys. "Come on. Let's go home." The drive back to campus housing was quiet. Tyler lived off-campus in an apartment his parents paid for, but he was driving me back to the dorms where I stayed. Couldn't afford anything else. When we pulled up, I didn't move right away. "Hey," Tyler said. "You know what they say, right? The best revenge is living well." "That's such garbage advice." "Maybe." He grinned. "But it's all I got." I climbed out of the car and watched him drive away. The dorm building loomed in front of me—old brick, nothing like the modern luxury apartments where students like Ashley and Ryan lived. My phone buzzed. A text from a number I didn't recognize. *Saw what happened at the gala. Sorry, man. That was rough.* Then another. *Ashley's loss. You'll bounce back.* And another. *Dude, Ryan Mitchell is such a tool. You're better off.* Great. So everyone really was talking about it already. I turned my phone off and headed inside. My roommate wasn't there—probably still at the party. The room was small, barely big enough for two beds, two desks, and a mini-fridge. I took off the suit jacket carefully and hung it up. Couldn't afford to wrinkle it. Might need it for job interviews. I caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. Same guy as this morning. Same brown hair, same average face, same everything. But somehow I felt completely different. Ashley was right about one thing—we were from different worlds. I just hadn't wanted to see it before. I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. Might as well get some work done. That was the thing about scholarships—you had to keep your grades up or lose everything. But I couldn't focus on homework. Instead, I found myself staring at my reflection in the black screen, thinking about Ryan Mitchell's smirk and Ashley's cold voice and the way everyone had stared. Tyler was wrong. Living well wasn't the best revenge. Winning was. And somehow, some way, I was going to figure out how to win. I just didn't know how yet.