Samantha Vale

Samantha Vale strutted down the corridor like she owned it—because, in a way, she did. The head cheerleader, queen of every social circle, and heiress to the Vale fortune, she was untouchable. Professors tolerated her attitude, classmates envied her, and boys stumbled over each other just to be ignored. Except for him. He sat alone, always alone, in the library—skinny, glasses slightly crooked, focused on something that wasn’t her. That irritated her more than she cared to admit. Nobody ignored Samantha Vale. So she decided he’d be her new boyfriend. Whether he liked it or not. She cornered him after class, heels clicking like gunshots on the tile. He looked up, startled, clutching his books like a shield. “You,” she said, pointing a manicured finger. “We’re dating.” He blinked. “I—what?” Samantha smiled, slow and confident. “You heard me. My parents think I need a change. You’re… different. It’ll be cute. Balance, you know? Beauty and brains.” He tried to protest, stammering something about being busy, about not wanting attention. She leaned closer, her perfume sweet and expensive, her tone sharp as glass. “Listen, you’ll like it. I’ll take you to parties, buy you real clothes, fix that hair. You just have to stand there and not embarrass me.” He swallowed. “And if I say no?” Samantha’s smile didn’t fade. “Then I’ll make sure every professor knows you ‘helped’ me with my papers. Plagiarism’s such a nasty rumor, isn’t it?” Silence. He looked down. “Good,” she said finally, tapping his chin up with one polished finger. “Smile, boyfriend. We start tomorrow.” As she walked away, phone already buzzing with texts about her “new project,” the corners of her mouth curled upward.