“Tyler, you’re not just messing with us, right? I mean, look at Fiona—she’s all skin and bones. Is she really that tough?”
“If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—if you can’t get out of bed for a week, that’s on you.”
The room went quiet. Everyone remembered that news story—Fiona had stabbed a creep’s hand with a toothpick, quick and precise. Nobody wanted to risk ending up on the wrong side of her.
“We’re a bunch of guys. Are we really going to pick on one girl? That’s a bad look. If people find out, our reputations are done for.”
Tyler just grinned and shook his head. “Honestly, you don’t have to treat her like ‘just a girl.’”
Fiona was way more intimidating than anyone thought.
But at the same time, if you were good to her, she’d have your back—no questions asked.
Hearing Tyler talk like that, all the guys changed their minds about Fiona. They realized judging someone by their looks was just wrong. Wherever you are, everyone deserves respect.
After the sparring, even though they couldn’t join Fiona’s self-defense classes, Tyler agreed to train with them once a week. But they had to do it his way, no arguments. Honestly, it was a pretty good deal.
Back at the dorm, Jane linked arms with Fiona. As they walked, a bunch of students shot them dirty looks. All because the freshmen girls liked to make a scene, block the gym doors, and ruin everyone’s chance to watch the guys play basketball after lunch.
The minute they walked in, they saw Amy sitting at the vanity, taking off her makeup. A couple of girls hovered around her, gushing over her perfect skin and expensive beauty products, acting like they owned the place.
Jane wasn’t about to play nice. She wasn’t scared of Amy anymore, either. She didn’t believe for a second that Amy could ruin her family.
After sticking with Fiona, Jane figured out how things really worked: in the world of the rich, everything was about mutual benefit. The Kidd family might not be the biggest name, but the old-money families all needed something from them. Nobody was going to mess up their own interests just to help Amy out. So, honestly? Amy was nothing.
She really thought she was something special. Jane wasn’t scared of her at all.
“Move. That’s my spot,” Jane said, her voice icy. She didn’t bother being polite. With a cold snort, she added, “If people didn’t know better, they’d think you were squatters—always here, always mooching.”

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