She slammed her red pen onto the desk.

“It takes two to start a fight, Mason. Maybe you should reflect on yourself and consider what you did to provoke them.”

I lowered my head slowly.

Then I went back to the classroom.

By the time school let out, rain was pounding against the streets.

I had not brought an umbrella.

I ran to the trash bin outside and dug through it until I found my ruined binder.

The pages were swollen from the filthy water.

Most of the words had blurred into nothing.

Then the old flip phone in my pocket began to buzz.

It was chipped and outdated, the phone I kept only so my family could reach me.

A text from Claire lit up the screen.

*'Mason, I’m out of town on business. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning.*

*Don’t worry. Anyone who bullies you or spreads rumors about you will regret it.'*

I looked down at the dark ink running across the pavement and the foul-smelling bundle of wet paper in my hands.

Then I typed back carefully.

*'Claire, it was just a misunderstanding. They were only joking.'*

She did not reply.

I stopped breathing for a second.

I was scared she might really go after them.

Then none of my classmates would be able to come back to school.

I was still trying to figure out how to calm her down when I turned around.

Lucas was standing behind me.

Before I could react, he snatched my battered flip phone from my hand and smashed it against the concrete.

It broke apart instantly.

“Idiot,” he sneered. “Your rich backer is supposedly so generous. Why can’t she even buy you a decent phone?”

He pulled out the newest smartphone from his pocket and waved it in front of me.

The wallpaper showed him with his arm slung around a middle-aged man.

I stared at the man for two seconds.

A few days earlier, he had been kneeling in my living room, begging my sister to give him a chance to work with her.

Claire had called him Mr. Hale.

I looked up at Lucas honestly.

“The man in that picture was kneeling in my house a few days ago, asking my sister for a meeting.”

Lucas’s face twisted.

He thought I was trying to humiliate him.

“You useless freak!”

He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.

“You’re a nobody whose own parents didn’t even want him. Who are you to talk about my dad?”

My ears rang.

The world spun.

But I barely felt the pain in my face.

Only one thought kept circling through my mind.

He had insulted my mom.

Before she died, Mom had spent every day trying to teach her son how to understand people.

She endured the whispers and the mockery from everyone around us.

In the end, the strain had worn her down completely.

He should not have talked about my mom that way.

Guilt and panic swallowed me whole.

My hand shook as I reached for my watch.

Hidden inside was a tiny emergency transmitter.

Claire had given it to me.

I had never used it before.

Without hesitation, I pressed the red button.

Three days later, the school auditorium was packed.

Today was the official public announcement for the guaranteed-admission offer.

Lucas had replaced me as the new recipient.

He stood in the center of the auditorium, surrounded by my classmates.

He wore an expensive tailored suit, his hair perfectly styled, as though he were about to accept some major award.

A few students crowded around him, their voices dripping with flattery.

“Lucas, I heard the Harrison Group gala is tonight. Your dad got an invitation, right?”

“Can you take us too? That’s the Harrison Group gala. We’d love to see how people like that live.

“Seriously. I heard Ms. Harrison is fiercely protective of her own. If we can get on her good side, we’ll never have to worry after college.”

Lucas lifted his chin, looking pleased with himself.

“Obviously. My dad is one of Ms. Harrison’s most valued business partners.

“Once my direct-admission offer is finalized, I’ll pick a few of you to come with me tonight.”

I stood from the corner of the auditorium.

A few minutes earlier, Ms. Turner had said I was in the way near the front. She kicked over my chair and told me to go crouch by the trash can in the back.

I brushed the dust from my uniform pants and started toward the principal’s office.

Lucas stepped sideways and blocked my path.

He looked me up and down, taking in my faded old uniform, then let out a sharp laugh.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mason?

“To see the principal.

“Your grades don’t qualify you for direct admission. The spot was supposed to be mine.”

Lucas sneered.

“Wow. An idiot has one good dream and suddenly thinks he’s a genius.”

Laughter rippled through the auditorium.

I stopped and looked at him seriously.

“I’m not dreaming.

“I am a genius.”

The laughter died instantly.

Everyone stared at me.

Lucas’s face went red, the vein in his forehead jumping.

That one sentence completely set him off.

He shoved me hard in the shoulder.

“Who the hell do you think you are?

“You’re some unwanted bastard who doesn’t even know who his father is!

“Your mom had a freak like you and got what was coming to her!”

For one moment, I stopped breathing.

Guilt and pain tore through me all over again.

I did not hit him back.

I did not even look at him.

Lucas blinked, then laughed even louder.

“What’s with the act? Your rich backer probably ditched you already.”

Just then, the auditorium speakers crackled to life.

Lucas started to turn toward the stage.

Then the heavy double doors burst open.

The principal rushed onto the stage.

He was drenched in sweat. He grabbed the microphone, his voice trembling with panic.

“Emergency announcement!

“Harrison Group has withdrawn every dollar of funding from this school!

“Ms. Claire Harrison herself is on campus to investigate a bullying incident!”

The auditorium fell utterly silent.

Lucas’s speech slipped from his hand and fluttered to the floor.

The confidence on his face shattered piece by piece, replaced by naked fear.

“C-Claire Harrison?”

He could barely get the name out.

Before anyone could react, a rush of heavy footsteps sounded outside.

A commanding woman strode into the auditorium, flanked by a line of black-suited security guards.

She shoved past the crowd without slowing down.

Her eyes were red, and sweat clung to her hair.

The moment she entered, she scanned the room and shouted:

“Who the hell is Lucas Hale? Senior Class A, student number 202607?

“You bullied my brother?

“Get out here.”