Chapter 1

We'd barely moved back into the dorm for the new term when my roommate Cyril Delgado shoved his phone screen in front of me.

"Look at this, Godfather. Helicopter skydiving, only three grand a head. I've been counting on you to take me the second school started."

A year ago I'd already be dragging him out the door.

But now my face went a little stiff. "I can't treat you to stuff anymore. My family went bankrupt."

I figured, with everything between us, he'd at least say something to make me feel better.

Instead he just frowned. "You can't even scrape together a few thousand?"

I stared at him, stunned. There wasn't a shred of sympathy in his eyes, only irritation.

"God, so annoying. You should've said something sooner about going broke. I already had the caption for my post picked out."

I froze where I stood. He turned and walked off.

That night, when he collected the electricity money in the group chat, my share was fifty more than everyone else's.

I called him on it straight out, and all he said was, "You always paid the electric bill before. All I'm doing now is making you cover an extra fifty, not the whole thing. That's already me being generous."

Then he accidentally posted a screenshot in the group: "Kissed up to him all this time just to land a spot at his family's company, and now they've gone bankrupt!"

I didn't say anything. I just opened my phone and messaged my mom: "Mom, faking bankruptcy really does show you what people are made of."

1.

When Cyril realized he'd sent the message to the wrong place, our other roommate, Dirk Joyce, cleared his throat, hinting for him to delete it.

Cyril glanced at his phone, rolled his eyes, and muttered, annoyed, "What's there to delete? He can't even afford a three-grand helicopter skydive anymore. I'm not obligated to be his little source of emotional support."

Dirk's page-turning stopped. He ducked his head, awkward, and buried his face in the book.

I rolled over in bed with my back to them, but my eyes slowly went red at the rims.

For more than a year, I won't say I gave them my whole heart, but I never once shortchanged them.

Dropping a few thousand on a single meal was nothing unusual.

Game consoles, cartridges, anything from a few thousand to over ten grand, I handed over without a second thought.

Back then Cyril would clutch whatever console or pair of sneakers I'd given him and squeal, "Thank you, Godfather. So young and I already own a PS5 and a Switch. I could cry."

Dirk was a little different. I'd take him out to eat, drink, have fun.

He always insisted on splitting the meal with me, only ever throwing in a few dollars, but I never made an issue of it.

When I gave him electronics, he'd transfer me ten bucks.

He'd say, "Just say I bought it."

Even when the money he handed over wouldn't have covered a single key on the keyboard, I only smiled and took it.

Because he was a scholarship student with top grades, I chalked it up to a top student's pride, a refusal to take charity.

But today it slowly came clear to me.

Maybe it wasn't that he didn't know the price. Maybe paying his little share was his way of settling up, of owing me nothing.

He wanted my things and he wanted to stay my equal.

It wasn't backbone. It was wanting it both ways.

The thought left me feeling nothing but cold contempt.

I slowly got my emotions back under control, opened my tablet, and started building a slideshow.

I typed out the first slide: "Fake Bankruptcy Plan, Day One."

I filled the slideshow with the chat messages and the way each of them had acted.

And just as I was about to turn out the light and sleep, Cyril knocked on the rail of my bunk.

I leaned my head out, my face still dark.

He looked briefly taken aback, then said something that turned my heart colder still.

"My birthday's next month. Can you still get me a gift?"

I stared at him blankly, my mouth opening but no words coming out.

Seeing me like that, he knit his brows. "You promised me last year you'd get me a twelve-hundred-dollar Alienware laptop for my birthday this year…"

Looking at that entitled face, I was so angry my hands were shaking.

I wanted to slam the tablet into his head and tell him the bankruptcy was fake.

But thinking of what my mom had said, I forced the anger back down.

Seeing me still speechless, he clicked his tongue in disgust. "If I'd known, I'd have made you buy it for me before break."

His tone was matter-of-fact, and the way he looked at me, you'd think I owed him a thousand dollars.

My voice came out hoarse. "I don't owe you anything, Cyril."

"Then you shouldn't have said yes. Did I force you to give me anything? You promise and then can't follow through, and I'm not even allowed to be upset?"

With that he spun around and climbed back into his own bunk.

Cyril lay there typing fast on his phone, and I didn't have to guess to know he was trashing me to someone again.

I stopped paying him any attention, switched off my reading light, and went to sleep.

The next morning, before the sky was even light, the dorm erupted with clattering and banging, and Cyril slapped every light on with a snap.

Frowning, I grabbed my phone and looked. It was only five in the morning.

I leaned out and asked him irritably, "Can you keep it down?"

He dropped his shower basin on the floor with a bang.

"Still think you're some rich young master? Your family's broke. Can you quit the act? I'm just getting up early to wash up like normal. How is that bothering you?"

I came fully awake and looked at him coldly.

Dirk, already up, only slowly opened his eyes, glanced at us, then rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head, saying nothing.

Cyril didn't say anything more. He scooped his basket up off the floor and strode toward the bathroom, chin high.

He slammed the door hard enough to shake the room and blasted music inside.

I wasn't angry anymore. I quietly opened the slideshow and logged the second slide.

They used to be so careful getting up and washing in the mornings, terrified of waking me.

Cyril liked to shower first thing. Sometimes he'd rather feel his way to the bathroom in the dark than use a flashlight.

Because he knew I was a light sleeper. Once he stubbed his toe on the table leg and yelped.

The moment he saw I was awake, he apologized over and over, wracked with guilt.

I'd thought I was just lucky, that I'd landed two saintly roommates who understood boundaries.

But it turned out their boundaries were built on the fact that I had money.

When it was finally time to get up, I sat up, and my whole body went rigid.