Chapter 3

Sure enough, on the day of the welcome party,

Hannah came up to me and set a sheer miniskirt down right next to my hand.

"Tabitha Winfield, Robin says you dance beautifully."

"Because of you, our formation came in dead last during orientation training. The least you can do is contribute something to the welcome party tonight! Put this on and dance a number, and everyone will forgive you for faking sick."

I glanced at the dress beside me.

There was pitifully little fabric, so thin it was almost transparent.

Under the stage lights, it would be practically indistinguishable from wearing nothing at all.

"Can't do it."

I pushed the skirt back toward Hannah and spoke evenly.

"You're the one who forced me into orientation training. Coming in last has nothing to do with me."

"Tabitha Winfield, what's that supposed to mean?!"

Hannah cut me off with a shrill, harsh voice.

She grabbed hold of Robin, tears welling in her eyes.

"Robin, I feel so wronged. I made Tabitha join the training for the good of the group, and to give her a complete college experience, and now she's blaming me..."

"And I only had her dance today out of kindness—because I thought she hadn't done well during training and wanted to give her a chance to show herself. But look at her..."

"Tabitha Winfield, apologize."

Robin's cold voice came down from above me.

"The freshman dance tonight was originally Hannah's. She gave up her chance to show herself off for you. How can you not know good from bad?"

I looked coldly at Robin.

I tossed the flimsy scrap of fabric into his arms.

"Does your Hannah dance in something like this too?"

The ultra-thin miniskirt, barely bigger than a palm, caught right on Robin's fingertips.

He glanced at it and froze for a second.

But at a coquettish little whine from Hannah in his arms,

Robin's expression changed at once.

"What's wrong with wearing this?! This is art!"

"Only someone with a filthy mind like yours would twist it into something dirty!"

"Fine."

I cut Robin off coldly, done wrangling with him.

"Your Hannah has such a pure heart—then let her wear this tonight and show off her art in front of the whole school, faculty and students."

With that, I stood up to leave.

But the moment I turned, a large hand clamped down hard on my wrist.

"Tabitha Winfield, don't throw a favor back in someone's face."

Robin stepped forward and planted himself right in front of me.

He shoved the short skirt into my arms, his words vicious.

"If you don't dance tonight, you can forget about a peaceful time at this university!"

"And that chef father of yours—even if you won't think of yourself, think of him. If you walk out today, your dad will never earn a single cent in the city for the rest of his life!"

A cold laugh rose up inside me.

Not go to college? Hundreds of universities at home and abroad would be fighting to take me.

My dad's job? That was even less his concern.

I threw everything into wrenching my hand free so I could leave.

He refused to let go, no matter what.

Just as the standoff was at its worst, a classmate behind me shouted,

"The Dean of Student Affairs is here!"