That Day I Bullied the Richest Boy in School

§PROLOGUE

The heel of my Porsche 718 Boxster—the one my father promised me for being valedictorian—was currently grinding into the shoulder of the boy who’d cost me both.

Only, this was the designer loafer version.

And the boy was Alaric Payne.

“So,” I said, applying a little more pressure. “You’re the new number one.”

The boy didn't flinch.

He was slumped against the grimy brick of the alley behind the gym, dirt smudging the sharp line of his jaw, but his eyes were cold steel.

“Do you need something?” he asked, his voice flat.

My boy Marco cracked his knuckles, a sound like snapping twigs. “He needs an introduction, Queen A.”

He puffed out his chest. “This is Avery Carmichael. You see that new science wing with the fancy solar panels? Her family’s name is on the plaque.”

Alaric’s gaze flickered to me, then away. “Okay.”

No reaction.

Nothing.

Gus, my other resident idiot, jumped in, indignant. “She’s also the person you beat for the top rank by twenty-six-point-five points.”

J.D. chimed in, always the pedant. “It was twenty-six exactly on the midterm report, Gus. The point-five was from the extra credit pop quiz in AP Physics.”

“Whatever,” Gus huffed. “The point is, her dad was going to buy her that Porsche. Now? No Porsche. She was so devastated she stress-ate five cronuts and downed two venti milkshakes.”

I sent a death glare at Gus.

“Shut up, all of you.”

The air went still.

Then, a low, almost silent chuckle from the boy on the ground.

“Ah,” Alaric Payne said, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “I think I remember you now.”

That condescending tone.

I saw red.

My leather loafer pressed down, hard.

“Let’s talk about how you’re going to fix this,” I purred.

“Your grades have nothing to do with me,” he shot back.

He was sitting in the dirt, a mess, and somehow, he still radiated an infuriating level of defiance.

“Marco,” I said, my voice dangerously sweet. “Show him how it has everything to do with him.”

Marco grinned, stepping forward. “My pleasure, Avery.”

But just as he raised his fist, something impossible happened.

Words appeared in the air.

Shimmering, electric-blue text, floating right in front of my face.

[The side character is really courting death. Just wait until the male lead gets acknowledged by his billionaire family. He has a million ways to deal with her.]

I blinked.

What the hell?

More text scrolled by, like live comments on a video stream.

[See that girl with the high ponytail watching from the end of the alley? That’s the female lead, Elodie. Next, she’s going to spend all her savings to pay his protection fee. He’ll fall for her at first sight.]

[So Avery is just the control group, huh? Thanks for being the catalyst for our couple’s love story. Eat up now, because once you mess with the male lead, you don’t have many days left. LOL.]

The world tilted.

Male lead?

Female lead?

Catalyst?

Doom?

My foot, still planted on Alaric Payne’s shoulder, began to tremble.

“How much?” Alaric’s cold voice cut through my panic.

I looked down at the boy who was apparently a secret prince of industry, the boy who was destined to destroy me.

My carefully constructed queen-bee persona was cracking at the seams.

Marco was still waiting for his order. “Yeah, Avery? How much we shaking him down for?”

I swallowed, my mind racing.

My foot wobbled.

“It’s… it’s one dollar,” I stammered out.

“A dollar for every point you beat me by.”

Wait, no, that’s twenty-six dollars. Still too much.

My brain was short-circuiting.

The shimmering blue text was still there, mocking me.

I took a deep breath.

“Exactly… one dollar!” I declared, trying to sound intimidating.

“Feeling scared now, aren’t you?”

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