Chapter 3

I pushed through the glass doors of the Student Life building and the scene hit me immediately. A crowd of about thirty students had formed a loose circle in the lobby. Their attention was focused on the center, where Mark was slumped in a chair, his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking with dramatic, theatrical sobs.

Standing over him, with a hand on his back, was Mr. Harrison, a well-known college counselor with a reputation for being kind and empathetic. He had a deeply concerned look on his face as he listened to Mark's choked words.

On a low table in front of them was a mountain of groceries. I saw bags of organic kale, expensive imported cheeses, several cartons of almond milk, and at least four large bags of quinoa. There was also a tub of pricey vegan protein powder. It was a health-food store haul that must have cost a fortune.

Mark lifted his head, his face blotchy and wet with what looked like real tears. He was a good actor, I had to give him that. He saw me and a fresh wave of sobs wracked his body.

"He's here!" Mark wailed, pointing a trembling finger at me. "He's the one!"

Every head in the lobby turned to look at me. I felt a hundred pairs of eyes on me, judging me. I could hear the whispers starting to ripple through the crowd.

"That's his roommate, Alex."

"What did he do? Mark looks so upset."

"I heard he made Mark buy all that food and then refused to pay."

Mr. Harrison's kind face hardened as he looked at me. His expression was one of clear disappointment and disapproval. He had been completely taken in by Mark' s performance. The crowd, feeding off the drama, had already decided I was the villain.

"You must be Alex," Mr. Harrison said, his voice laced with authority and a hint of accusation. He didn't ask. He stated it as a fact.

"I am," I said, keeping my voice steady, trying not to let the anger simmering inside me boil over.

Mark let out another heart-wrenching sob. "Mr. Harrison, he... he told me we were going to start eating healthy together. He made a whole list. I used the last of my money to buy all this for us, and... and now he says he won' t pay me back! He says it' s all my problem! I don' t have any money left for the rest of the month!"

He buried his face in his hands again, his performance timed perfectly to elicit maximum sympathy. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, more hostile.

"What a jerk."

"He looks like one of those rich kids who doesn't care about anyone."

"Poor Mark. That' s so messed up."

Mr. Harrison straightened up, his gaze fixed on me. He had already tried and convicted me in his mind. The groceries, the tears, the sympathetic crowd-it was all the evidence he needed.

"Alex," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to talk. You owe this young man an explanation. And, it would seem, an apology and a significant amount of money."

I stood there, a hundred angry rebuttals caught in my throat. I was surrounded by strangers who hated me, being lectured by an authority figure who had already made up his mind, all because of a calculated, manipulative lie. This was Mark's masterpiece of madness, and I was the unwilling star.