Chapter 3

Just as I predicted, Brianna, with Chloe as her tearful witness, went straight to Dean Albright.

I got the summons to his office an hour later.

Dean Albright looked at me with that familiar expression of disappointment mixed with sympathy – sympathy for Brianna, of course.

"Ava," he began, his voice gentle but firm. "We need to discuss an incident with your roommate, Brianna Jones."

Brianna sat beside his desk, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, looking small and wronged. Chloe was next to her, offering silent support.

"She claims you publicly humiliated her regarding her financial situation and choice of footwear," Dean Albright continued.

"I commented on the quality of her counterfeit sneakers, Dean," I stated calmly. "And I mentioned the price of my authentic ones. Facts are facts."

"Ms. Miller," the Dean sighed, "Brianna is here on a full academic scholarship. She works hard. Perhaps a little sensitivity is in order? Not everyone has your... advantages."

He was buying her act, hook, line, and sinker. Just like before.

"Sensitivity?" I leaned forward. "Dean, Brianna has been systematically copying my clothes, my style, my social media, even my mannerisms for months. She then subtly implies I'm the one being derivative. She twists my attempts at friendship into acts of condescension. Is that sensitive?"

Brianna let out a wounded gasp. "That's not true! I admire Ava, but I have my own style!"

Dean Albright looked troubled but still leaned towards believing the "poor scholarship student."

"Ava, perception is reality for many. If Brianna feels targeted..."

I held up a hand. "Dean Albright, with all due respect, my family are rather prominent alumni of this university. And significant donors. Perhaps you recall the Miller Science Initiative?"

His posture changed almost imperceptibly.

"I'm not asking for special treatment," I said, my voice hardening. "I'm asking for you to look beyond the surface. But since my living situation is clearly causing such distress for Ms. Jones, I'll solve one problem right now."

I pulled out my phone.

"Excuse me for one moment."

I dialed my father. He answered on the second ring.

"Dad," I said, my voice clear and confident. "Remember that penthouse apartment you keep in Cambridge, the one near campus? Is it currently available?"

A pause. "Yes, Ava-bug. Why?"

"I'm moving out of the dorms. Effective immediately. The environment here has become... untenable."

"Consider it done. I'll have the keys messengered to you this afternoon. Anything else?"

"That's all for now, Dad. Thanks." I hung up.

Dean Albright was staring at me, his expression unreadable. Brianna looked stunned.

"There," I said, standing up. "Problem solved. I'll be out of the dorm by tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me, Dean, I have packing to do."

I walked out, leaving a very different atmosphere in the Dean's office.

Later that day, I heard Dean Albright received a call from the university president.

Something about the Miller family's upcoming multi-million dollar endowment for the new science wing being put on "review."

Suddenly, Brianna's complaints weren't getting quite the same sympathetic ear.

And my new off-campus penthouse was fabulous.