Reason 3:

I intended to just ignore him.
And I really did try.

But he spends an inordinate amount of time ensuring that’s

IMPOSSIBLE.

After my regular lunch of carrot sticks and an avocado sandwich, I filed into physics early. Eating was far more efficient without the added burden of dividing my energy between food and conversation. That’s why it didn’t bother me that I always ate alone.

Since I had time to spare, I pulled out a blank index card and started listing all the money Cole and I could access. Per Rule 15, I was thorough. I’d saved money to buy new books for my second graders, but I’d give it to Cole instead and find a way to get by with what the classroom and library already had. Ultimately, those kids needed attention more than anything else. Yet no matter how I racked my brain, Cole and I were still four thousand dollars short.

I needed to be broader in my thinking instead of just scrambling to scrape together small sums. But how? Cole needed an anonymous benefactor, or else a way to host another fund-raiser without letting the team know why.

Something slammed into my chair. Like an earthquake. Or like a shark taking an exploratory nibble.

Ink streaked across my note card, ruining my list.

I turned.

Sterling Lane sat in the chair behind me. Examining me with lazy brown eyes that reminded me of the cocker spaniel I’d had as a kid. In all my worry about Cole, I’d completely forgotten Sterling Lane existed. And now more than ever, I did not have time for his shenanigans. I would not be taking notes or typing papers or whatever other acts of servitude he envisioned. I set my pen down and prepared to set that Rulebreaker straight.

“Harper Campbell,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to actually meeting you. Didn’t mean to catch you off guard in history. Cole and I tried to find you at breakfast.” He looked so benign in that moment that I had to conjure the image of Mrs. Stevens’s stricken face in order to summon the rage I needed to put him in his place.

“Save that slippery smile for the day you run for office,” I told him. “Your antics in history class spoke volumes about what lurks behind it.” Sterling’s eyebrows rose. He glanced around as if wary of having an audience, then shifted closer, until our faces were barely two feet apart. My first instinct was to recoil, but I couldn’t risk anything that would be perceived as backing down. Unfortunately, at that proximity, I couldn’t help but notice the rich brown of his eyes, or how they were framed by ridiculously long eyelashes. They’d almost look feminine if the line of his jaw and the rest of his features weren’t such a clichéd version of handsome. Not that it mattered.

“Easy there, tiger,” he said. “Did I do something to offend?”

“I’m not offended, just incredibly busy.”

“Right. You look like you’re about to disembowel me. Look, the last thing I want to do is alienate Cole’s sister, so whatever I did, I apologize.”

“Whatever you did?” I repeated, incredulous. As if he’d already forgotten about his behavior in history class. “No need to pretend to be friendly for Cole’s sake,” I said. “I know you all laugh at me behind his back, and now you expect me play your little secretary? No thank you. But I have no doubt you’ll bulldoze someone else into it. Until that time, I ask that you refrain from interrupting class with ridiculous fictional illnesses.” I turned back to face the front of the room, but not fast enough to miss the way those hazy eyes perked up with interest. A new wave of exasperation washed over me as I stared at the card. Not only had he ruined my note card by knocking into me, he’d made me lose my train of thought.

“Interrupting class? Is that all it takes to get you this heated up?” he asked.

“No,” I said, turning just enough that he could see the scorn on my face. “It was how you did it. You enjoy tormenting others. Lording your power over Mrs. Stevens, and now trying to manipulate me. Cole told me all about you—how you got expelled. And if you step out of line here, rest assured the headmaster will throw the book at you.”

“Cole told you about that?”

I nodded. Even though I suddenly wasn’t certain what we were talking about.

“Well, that’s a first.” His eyes narrowed as he surveyed me. “Most people give me a standing ovation for putting that asshole in his place. You’re an odd one, Harper Campbell.”

I had no idea what he was talking about—Cole had never given me any specific details about Sterling’s past. But expulsion was expulsion, and Sterling had most likely deserved it.

“I’m glad you found someone to stroke your already sizable ego. But I think you’ll find I’m not susceptible to your games.”

“You know, that almost sounds like a challenge.” There was a quiet menace in his voice that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I pulled out my notebook and pretended to be too engrossed in my studies to hear him.

“Harper, Harper, Harper.” He sounded almost regretful as he repeated my name. Like he lamented my fate. “It’s a strange name for a girl. It almost sounds like a boy’s name. Is that why you did that?”

I didn’t need to turn around to know what he meant. Someone like Sterling would have no trouble intuiting that I’d gone too far the week before when I’d ordered my dad’s barber to cut my hair off, until it was shorter than Cole’s. It had been an impulse born of practicality. I resented the time I wasted drying it almost as much as I hated going out in the winter with damp hair.

“Lemme guess.” An edge crept into his voice, sharpening itself on each and every syllable. “Your parents wished both twins were boys. Decided to pretend you were one anyway. Something you took up a little too willingly. It’s a shame. Minus the prune expression, you might make a pretty girl.”

I stared at my notes, refusing to subject myself to his mocking scrutiny. But try as I might, I couldn’t regain my focus.

“Maybe you should smile more,” Sterling prompted. “Like Cole.”

Those words were a Molotov cocktail, setting my whole psyche on fire.

Sterling Lane might as well have trespassed in my father’s thoughts and brought a few choice arrows to fling at my unsuspecting back. I had to work twice as hard as Cole to get a fraction of the recognition. I was constantly harangued to smile, to be gracious and gentle, instead of being a “spiny, sharp little sea urchin.”

I didn’t have time for Sterling Lane and his sadistic games.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said, turning to face him. He watched my every move with the careful, calculating gaze of a chess master. My fingers strangled the edges of my desk. Rearranging his perfect face would violate at least five different Rules.

“I know enough. The rest I can infer.” His mouth curved up a little as he poured coffee into the little cup of a sleek silver Thermos.

“You flushed when I called you pretty.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “You liked that.”

“I. Did. Not.”

“Fine,” he said. “I take it back. I was just being polite.”

For some reason that stung more than anything else he’d said that day. “That’s not what I meant…” I started to say, but the way he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his seat was so malevolently self-satisfied that I swallowed the rest of my words. “Leave me alone.” It came out like a plea. One that Sterling gleefully ignored. His arm shot out.

I tried to block him as he reached around my shoulder to grab my notebook off my desk, but he was fast—reflexes that had to have all the coaches adjusting their starting rosters. We scuffled for a moment, both tugging on the pages and collecting the curious stares of our classmates as they wandered in for the start of class. Which distracted me into giving Sterling the upper hand.

He sat back, holding my notes aloft. The pages wrinkled under his careless fingers as he shuffled through them.

“Pre-made notes and an outline?” He smiled like he’d crafted them himself. “I had a feeling you were just the girl I was looking for. Knew it from the way you’re perched there all uptight, like you’d just sat on a telephone pole.”

“Give me my notes.” I managed to keep my tone polite, even if he hardly deserved it.

He released them into my waiting fingers and watched as I smoothed the wrinkles from the pages. He took another sip of his coffee, savoring it.

“If you’ll consult section 1.3 of the student handbook, you’ll discover that food and beverage are not allowed in class unless specifically provided by the teacher for educational purposes,” I informed him. Because he really ought to know. “I have no intention of associating with a Rulebreaker. You can’t have my notes. And you can’t sit here.”

One eyebrow shot up, a solitary sign of life in an otherwise impassive face. “Rulebreaker? Are we in kindergarten?” Then he winked. “Don’t look so uptight. I’m not staying. I fly business class.” He motioned toward the far corner, to a solitary seat under the open window with an unobstructed view of the football field. Outside, a group of girls were prancing around, rehearsing some sort of gymnastics routine.

Then he produced a money clip with a fat wad of cash. He pulled it right out of the tiny square shirt pocket that was intended for decoration only. He was carrying roughly a grand around like it was change for the parking meter. Money that would make a sizable dent in Cole’s problem.

I stared as Sterling peeled off one crisp green bill after another, until I had to look away. Right down at the flash of his yellow shorts. He was dressed like he’d just blown in from a beach in Bermuda.

“Yellow shorts don’t comply with the dress code,” I pointed out. “And boat shoes are definitely not dress shoes. Either way, shoes require socks.” I paused. “And you need a haircut.”

He let his eyes search all over me in imitation. “Checking me out?”

“Your infractions are impossible to miss.” I hated the flush creeping up my cheeks. “And I think you spend a lot of time making sure of that.”

He laughed like I was making a joke. And a good one, at that. He even tipped back all the way in his chair, momentarily off-balance. Then he folded five crisp twenties in half and set them on my desk. They formed a little green pup tent pitched in the middle of the chipped faux-wood surface.

“That should cover it,” he said.

I stared at the bills—at this offering from the gods presented by the devil himself. “Cover what?”

“Your time.” He was already rising out of his seat. “There’s a monthly bonus based on performance. Sliding scale. Double for an A—you can extrapolate the rest. Just learned I’ve got a literature paper due next week, apologies for the late notice, but I’m sure you’re up for the challenge.”

Cheat? Me? He assumed I’d jeopardize my entire future for a few paltry pennies, so that he didn’t have to work?

Every muscle in my body convulsed in conflicted horror. All at once. I had a Sterling Lane–induced seizure.

I crumpled the bills and shoved them back into his hand.

His mouth curled into a wicked grin that should have warned me this wasn’t over yet. “And to think I heard you were an absolute hag. I accept your generous offer of complimentary assistance.”

“I’m not offering you anything,” I replied. “Except the chance to leave. Right now. Before I take this to the headmaster.” I turned, exiting that conversation before things got even worse. But an unmistakable odor demanded all of my attention.

“Is that—that’s not just coffee,” I stammered, pointing to the Thermos. While I could definitely detect the rich aroma of an expensive Italian roast, there was an undercurrent of something else. Something that had no business being anywhere but the crystal decanter in my father’s study.

He looked at the steaming liquid, appraising it. “I take my coffee Irish on a morning like this.”

Shock rendered me momentarily speechless. I needed to shift my focus away from this black hole of vice and back to my notes, but he was such a train wreck I couldn’t turn away.

“A morning like what? A morning with classes?” The last word turned into a shriek. Curious eyes flickered my way, so I slid lower in my seat.

“How rude of me.” He switched back into charming mode. “I’m not the only one who has to sit through this BS. Allow me.” He pulled a second insulated silver coffee mug out of his bag and actually started filling it.

All I could manage was a slight shake of the head. There were no words. No words to convey the shock and horror building inside me.

“Oh, right,” he said, winking. “You should stay sharp. Knew my grades were safe in your hands. Four-point-oh and all that. I look forward to doing business with you.”

“I think I’ve been more than clear. I want nothing to do with you. I will not help you cheat—now or ever.”

Sterling circled me until he stood directly in front of me, then he placed his palms flat on the surface of my desk, leaning down so that he was practically at eye level. “We’ll see about that,” he said.

“No, we won’t. I’m not susceptible to your little games.”

“Challenge accepted.” He gave me a condescending little smirk that made my temper flare.

“This isn’t a challenge,” I said. “It’s a non-negotiable, unilateral decree.”

“Everything is negotiable.” He slipped the words out as he strolled away—the exact second class started, like he had it on good authority I never left my chair once class started. It was that important to him to secure the last word.

I took out my notebook and documented every detail of Sterling Lane’s depravity, even though I’d never forget even the tiniest little tidbit. Not as long as I lived.

Sterling Lane wasn’t just an annoyance—he was a public menace. And I had every intention of staying as far away from him as our tiny campus would allow.