Aria POV
My laptop makes a soft humming sound as I save my scholarship essay for the tenth time in the coffee shop.
Three months of research. Fifty pages of financial analysis. This essay is my ticket to the Chen Foundation Scholarship—fifty thousand dollars that will change my life. No more working three jobs. No more staying up until 3 AM studying in the dorm bathroom because my roommate needs the lights off.
I take a sip of my cheap black coffee and smile. Today was strange but good. Marcus Chen apologized to me. Actually apologized. The popular boy who never noticed me in high school suddenly sees me.
I shouldn't trust it. People don't change overnight.
But the way he looked at me during the study group... like I was important. Like I mattered.
Stop it, Aria. Don't be stupid. Don't fall for a pretty face again.
I shake my head and refocus on my essay. The scholarship deadline is in two days. I need to proofread one more time, then I'll submit it and—
"Oh my god, I'm SO sorry!"
Ice-cold liquid splashes across my keyboard.
Coffee. Everywhere. Dripping between the keys, pooling on my screen, soaking into my laptop.
I jump up, but it's too late. My laptop makes a terrible crackling sound. The screen flickers. Goes black.
No. No no no no.
"I'm such a klutz!" A beautiful girl with perfect makeup stands there holding an empty coffee cup. Her face looks apologetic, but her eyes are cold. "Let me help you clean that up!"
She reaches for my laptop.
"Don't touch it!" I grab it away, but my hands are shaking. Coffee drips from the keyboard. The screen won't turn on.
Three months of work. Gone.
"I'll pay for repairs," the girl says, but she's already backing away. "Just send me the bill, okay? I have to run. So sorry!"
She practically runs out of the coffee shop before I can even respond.
An older woman who was sitting with her—her mother, maybe—gives me a pitying look and follows her out.
I stand there holding my dead laptop, and I can't breathe.
The scholarship essay. My research. All my notes for next semester's classes. Everything was on this computer. I couldn't afford cloud storage. Couldn't afford an external hard drive.
Tears burn my eyes. I won't cry in public. I won't.
But three months of work. Fifty thousand dollars. My future. All destroyed by some clumsy rich girl who can probably buy ten new laptops without thinking twice.
"Aria!"
I look up. Marcus Chen bursts through the coffee shop door, breathing hard like he just ran a marathon. His eyes scan the room frantically until they land on me.
On my dead laptop.
On the tears I'm trying not to cry.
His face goes pale. "No. I'm too late."
Too late? What does that mean?
He rushes over to me. "Your laptop. The coffee. When did it happen?"
"Just now. Like thirty seconds ago." I stare at him. "How did you know? Were you following me?"
"I—" He stops. His face is panicked, guilty. "I saw her. The girl with the coffee. She was walking this direction really fast. She looked angry. I just had a bad feeling."
That doesn't make any sense. The coffee shop is three blocks from the library. How could he have seen her and gotten here so fast?
"You ran three blocks because you had a bad feeling?" I ask slowly.
Marcus opens his mouth. Closes it. He looks like he's trying to figure out what to say.
"You're lying," I say flatly. The tears dry up. Now I'm just angry. "You knew something was going to happen. How?"
"I can explain—"
"Then explain!" My voice is too loud. Other customers are staring. I don't care. "That girl destroyed three months of my work. My scholarship essay is gone. And you somehow knew it was going to happen but didn't warn me in time. So explain, Marcus. Right now."
He looks around at all the watching faces. Lowers his voice. "Not here. Please. Can we talk outside?"
"Why should I trust you? I don't even know you!"
"Because I'm trying to help you!" His voice is desperate. "That girl—her name is Rebecca Zhang. She did this on purpose. It wasn't an accident. And I know that sounds crazy, but I can prove it. Just... please. Give me five minutes."
Rebecca Zhang. I recognize that name from the high school gossip circles. The beautiful girl who dated half the football team. The one all the boys wanted.
Including Marcus, probably.
"Did she do this because of you?" I ask coldly. "Because she saw us together at the study group? Is this some kind of jealous girlfriend revenge?"
"She's not my girlfriend. She's never been my girlfriend. And yes, she did this because she saw us together, but not for the reason you think." Marcus runs his hand through his hair. "Look, I know how this sounds. But Rebecca is dangerous. She hurts people on purpose. And I'm trying to stop her from hurting you."
"By following me to coffee shops?"
"By trying to protect you!" He sounds frustrated now. Scared. "Your scholarship essay—do you have a backup anywhere? Email? USB drive? Anything?"
My stomach drops. "No. I couldn't afford—" My voice breaks. "It's all gone."
Marcus closes his eyes like he's in pain. "Okay. Okay. I can fix this. Do you remember what you wrote? Could you rewrite it?"
"In two days? Fifty pages of research and analysis?" I laugh bitterly. "No. It's impossible. I'm done. The scholarship is gone."
"Then I'll pay for it."
I stare at him. "What?"
"The scholarship. Fifty thousand dollars, right? I'll pay for your tuition. All of it. You can pay me back later if you want, but you're not losing your education because of Rebecca's jealous sabotage."
Now I know he's insane. "You're a scholarship student. You're broke. How are you going to pay fifty thousand dollars?"
"I have money. More than you think." His eyes are intense. "I'm serious, Aria. Let me help you."
This is too much. Too weird. Too fast.
"I don't need your charity." I grab my dead laptop. "Thanks for the concern, but I'll figure it out myself."
I try to walk past him. He gently catches my arm.
"Wait. At least let me pay for your laptop repair. That much. Please. I feel responsible—if I'd gotten here two minutes earlier, I could have stopped her."
"How?" I pull my arm away. "How could you have stopped something you didn't know was going to happen?"
He has no answer for that.
Because there is no good answer. Unless he's telling the truth and he somehow knew. But that's impossible.
Isn't it?
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, grateful for the distraction.
Unknown number. Text message:
"Marcus Chen is telling the truth. Rebecca planned this. Check the trash can near the door—Rebecca threw away a napkin with your name on it and 'destroy her laptop' written underneath. She's been planning this since she saw you with Marcus. You're in danger. He's trying to protect you. Trust him."
My blood turns to ice.
I look at Marcus. He's watching me with worried eyes.
I look at the trash can near the door.
I walk over on shaking legs and dig through coffee cups and wadded napkins.
And I find it.
A napkin with my name—ARIA SUMMERS—written in angry handwriting. And below it: "destroy her laptop, make her fail, eliminate the competition."
My hands shake so badly I almost drop it.
I turn to Marcus. "Who sent me this text? How did they know?"
His face goes white. "You got a text? From an unknown number?"
"Yes. Telling me to check the trash. And I found this." I hold up the napkin.
Marcus pulls out his own phone with shaking hands. Shows me his screen.
Unknown number: "She found the evidence. Now tell her the truth. All of it. She needs to know what's coming. Rebecca won't stop here."
We stare at each other.
"You're getting texts too," I whisper. "From the same person."
"Yes."
"How is that possible?"
"I don't know." His voice is barely audible. "But whoever's sending them knows everything before it happens. And so far, every warning has been true."
My phone buzzes again. So does his. At the exact same time.
We both look at our screens.
The message makes my heart stop:
"Rebecca is coming back. With her mother. And campus security. They're going to say Marcus attacked Aria. That he destroyed her laptop in a jealous rage. They have a fake witness ready to lie. You have 3 minutes to leave together, or Marcus goes to jail and Aria loses everything. RUN."
I look up at Marcus. His face is terrified.
"I didn't attack you," he says quickly. "I would never—"
"I know." The words surprise me. But somehow, I do know. "I believe you."
"Then we need to go. Right now."
Through the coffee shop window, I see them. Rebecca and her mother, walking fast toward the entrance. A security guard is with them.
Rebecca is crying. Acting. Pointing at the coffee shop.
"She's framing you," I breathe. "For something you didn't do."
"She's done this before," Marcus says grimly. "To other people. Destroying lives is her hobby."
"How do you know that?"
"I'll explain everything. But first, we run."
He grabs my hand.
And we run.