Page 12 of You Owe Me

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Carter’s gaze sharpens. “Really? I would’ve expected more awareness. Given your... proximity.”

I blink. Slow. Measured. Because I know exactly what he’s implying. But I’m not confirming anything. Not for him.

“My relationship with Maverick has nothing to do with whatever theory you’re trying to build,” I say. “If you’ve got questions, ask him.”

“I intend to, but I like to understand the full picture. And you, Ainsley, are a surprisingly important part of his.”

Beside me, Eliza shifts. Her posture’s changed—alert, tense. I don’t blame her. Carter’s words might sound polite, but everything underneath feels off. Like a warning disguised as small talk.

“I think you’re mistaken,” I say. “I’m not a player in any of this.”

“But you are, you just don’t realize it yet.”

Something about the way he says it sticks under my skin. Calm, sure, like he’s already factored me into some equation and decided exactly how useful I’ll be.

“What exactly are you getting at?”

“Nothing specific.” He shrugs. “Just an observation. Power left unchecked tends to attract attention. And eventually, opposition.”

Oh, good. Thinly veiled threats. My favorite.

“Let me guess,” I say. “You’re the opposition?”

“I’m an opportunist. I see imbalance, I act. Simple as that.” He pulls a business card from his pocket and places it on my notebook. “Should you ever want to continue the conversation.”

I don’t touch it.

He adjusts his watch, glancing at the time. “I have a meeting with the dean in twenty minutes.”

And there it is. He waits a beat, then adds, “My father.”

I don’t respond. Neither does Eliza.

Because we get it now.

Carter Mills isn’t just some ambitious student with a perfectly tucked shirt. He’s the dean’s son. He’s connected, calculating, and clearly playing a longer game.

“It was a pleasure. I look forward to speaking again, Ainsley. Hopefully under... different circumstances.”

And then he walks off.

We sit in silence for a few seconds after he’s gone.

“What the actual hell?” Eliza mutters.

I finally pick up the card and glance at it.

Carter Mills

Student Government Vice President

Excellence is not a skill. It’s an attitude.

Of course, it is.

I slide it into my bag. Not because I want to keep it. But because I don’t like leaving loaded weapons lying around in public.

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