"Oh no. Vanessa’s back."
Priya shifted on the log bench beside me, narrowing her eyes as she took in the trio. "Who is the designer-clad barbie?"
"Vanessa Orwell," Bear muttered back, keeping his voice down as the music thudded around us. "Harold Orwell’s daughter. Her family owns the largest development firm in the state. She’s basically royalty to the athletic department."
Vanessa walked toward us, her expensive boots clicking softly on the frozen ground. She stopped a few feet away, looking past Bear and Priya to stare straight at me.
"So," Vanessa said in a smooth, polished voice, dripping with money. "You’re the famous girlfriend."
I stood up slowly, brushing the loose wood shavings off my jeans. Even in my boots, she had a couple of inches on me, but I met her gaze with a flat, calm expression. "Nora Bennett."
"Nora," Vanessa repeated with a practiced, elegant smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
"Right. The tutor. I heard there was a bit of drama in the administrative building this morning. I must admit, I was curious. It’s not every day Knox makes a scene in the middle of a lecture hall."
"We had some coordination details to work out," I replied, keeping my voice level.
"I’m sure," Vanessa said, her smile widening just a fraction.
She took a step closer, her eyes doing a slow sweep of my outfit, landing on the cream oversized sweater and the black boots. "Knox has always been... impulsive. He gets these little ideas in his head. Last summer in Paris, his father and I were just talking about how Knox needs someone to keep him grounded. Garrison is very protective of his son’s future. He has such specific ideas about what kind of girl belongs in the Sheridan circle."
Priya scoffed beside me, crossing her arms. "And I suppose that circle only includes girls who wear cashmere to a muddy bonfire?"
Vanessa’s eyes flicked to Priya in a dismissive and cold look, before returning to me. "It includes people who belong here. I’m just surprised, Nora. Knox has a reputation on this campus. I’m sure you’re aware he doesn’t date girls who work diner shifts and study in the library. Garrison wants what’s best for the family brand. A scholarship girl... well, it’s a very temporary arrangement, isn’t it?"
The passive-aggressive insult hit its mark perfectly. It was meant to make me feel small, to remind me of the sixty-thousand-dollar check I had turned down and making me feel like an intruder in a world I didn’t belong in.
But I didn’t look down.
"You’re right, Vanessa," I said smoothly, my voice carrying clearly over the crackle of the wood. "I don’t come from money, and I don’t summer in Paris. I work shifts at the diner and I tutor athletes. But I earned my spot at Briar University with a cumulative 4.0 GPA and a full academic scholarship. Nobody’s daddy had to donate a building to get me through the doors."
Vanessa’s elegant smile cracked. Her cheeks flushed a light pink, and her eyes hardened.
"And as for Garrison Sheridan’s ’specific ideas’ about what kind of girl Knox belongs with," I continued, taking a step forward, "maybe he should ask his son. Because last I checked, Knox chose me."
A few students nearby went quiet, sidelong glances shifting between us.
Before Vanessa could recover her composure and fire back, a low, familiar voice cut through the tension from the shadows behind her.
"Vanessa."
We all turned.
Knox stepped out of the shadows; his varsity jacket was open and his phone was already tucked away. His expression was stern, and his dark eyes fixed on the blonde.
Vanessa’s expression shifted instantly from disgust and irritation to a plastic smile that looked forced in a heartbeat. "Knox! There you are. I was just introducing myself to your... girlfriend. We were having a lovely chat."
Knox didn’t smile.
He walked straight up to me, slid his hand around my waist and pulled me flush against his side possessively. The solid weight of his arm sent a strange, steadying warmth through me.
He looked at Vanessa. "We’re leaving, Vanessa. If you have something to say, say it to me. Otherwise, leave Nora alone."
Vanessa raised her eyebrows, her eyes darting to Knox’s arm around my waist, then back to his face. "No need to be defensive, Knox. I was just saying hello. Your father sends his regards, by the way. I’ll see you around."
She gave us a final, ice-cold nod, turned on her heel, and walked away, her two friends trailing behind her as their designer boots clicked toward the parking lot.
Once they were out of sight, the tension in the air slowly dissipated.
I looked up at Knox, my hand coming up to push against his chest. "You can let go now, Sheridan. She’s gone."
Knox didn’t drop his arm. His eyes looked down at me, reflecting the flames of the bonfire in them, his face entirely too close to mine.
"Rule number two, Bennett," Knox murmured, his thumb drawing a slow line along my hip through the wool of my sweater. The touch was warm and steady, making my heart skip a beat. "People are still watching. We have to make it look real."
"Priya and Bear are the only ones looking," I muttered, though I didn’t pull away.
"Vanessa is connected," Knox replied. The cocky jock facade was gone, replaced by a quiet warning. "She’s like my father; she operates through compliance and board reports. Be careful around her."
"I can handle her," I said, meeting his gaze.
Knox’s mouth curved into a faint, dry line. "I know you can. That’s what worries me."
He held my gaze for one beat too long, his hand warm against my hip, before he slowly let his arm drop and stepped back.
"I’ll drive you home," he said, turning toward the parking lot.
Before I could take a step, Priya gasped beside me. She tapped my shoulder frantically, looking pale in the firelight as she pulled me away a few steps and held up her phone screen.
"Nora. Look at the forum. Now."
My heart did a sudden, uneasy dip. I looked down at her screen, and my breath caught in my throat.
At the top of the trending feed on the Briar University gossip page was a high-resolution photo of the bonfire from less than an hour ago. It was a shot of me sitting on Knox’s lap, his arm wrapped around my waist, his thumb pressed against my hip, and our faces inches apart.
The caption below it was printed in bold:
COMPLIANCE OR HOOKUP? Star Forward Knox Sheridan’s new ’girlfriend’ is his official work-study tutor. Is she grading his curves, or is he grading hers?
I stared at the screen, the text blurring as the realization hit me like a slap to the face.
The 4.0 GPA, the academic scholarship, the reputation I had spent years building... it was all being dragged into the mud before the entire campus.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," I whispered to the dark.