Sold! To the Rebellion [SECOND BOOK TO THE SOLD! TRILOGY]

Chapter 2: The Accidental Meeting

Ahhhh! You guys are like the best. :))) thanks for adding Sold! To the Rebellion on such a short notice! I've worked realllllllly hard this finals and I plan to reward myself generously by typing a lot of the sold series as my goal for this sequel is to finish it before my little daughter's first birthday which is February 13. I am totally not sure if I can achieve this but at least I have set my goals. :) finally, my brain is now arranging a pathway for me to walk on along the sea of ideas (which is located in the right hemisphere of my brain where geysers of colorful rainbows come out of Nicole's feeding bottles).

Like old times, if you like the chapter, comment, vote and follow. :) thank you.

-Ariel:)

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|HOLLY|

My chest is pounding really hard as I stared at the tables aligned in the huge meadow where lunch is currently on its high. The sun is high up in the sky but the wind is chilly as a bítch; the grass tickled on my ankles as usual as my tennis shoes shifted on the greenery that offered little comfort to me. Lines of tables for four people dominated the area; like the training ground located just opposite the meadow here in the dining area, trees surrounded the clearing like a wall, confining everyone within it.

Hundreds of rebels in training are noisily slurping on their soup or munching on their food. Vampires are drinking from flasks of blood while comfortably seated beside lycans. The scenery is a picture of tranquility and of peace but not to me. Apparently, the night Harley Bracken carried me naked from the woods was the exact time the rumors circulated in the area. Rumors about me and him being all... intimate within the confinement of trees.

I felt blush rise in my cheeks as I shifted on my shoes again. The rumors killed any hope of me creating more friends considering that Harley Bracken has a lot of women aiming for his attention and it didn't end well that a weak newbie like me would get such attention from one of the best leaders in the rebellion.

And Harley--fùcking-- Bracken at that!

I took one step forward and two steps back. The metal tray in my hands trembled as I bit my bottom lip, contemplating what to do. I just received a good verbal beating last night; believe me, being called a whòre isn't new to me, nor the word slùt is, but I can't help but still feel affected over the small words volleyed over my head like that. Harley and I would never happen in a million years. It just can't.

Finally deciding that they can't do that much shít on me, I decided to move forward. Besides, who would even want to hurt someone over rumors like that, right?

Ah, stupid Holly.

The moment I stepped out of the crack in the tents, a flying sandwich slapped me directly in my nose. The ketchup splattered on my cheeks and mustard coated my chin. The salami inside it slipped down slowly as I forced my eyes close to protect me from the food that came crashing face on. The bread fell on my tennis shoes and I opened my eyes to the laughing crowd of people in that meadow.

Real smooth, guys, really. I shook the ketchup and the pieces of sandwich off my face and my shirt and proceeded in walking towards our table. As usual, Emile is not here, probably sleeping her ass off while Iris is probably training other weres in combat. Usually, before the Harley incident, I would head to our table peacefully without any flying sandwiches but things change, I guess.

The words flew around again as some hissed at me for taking Harley or something like that which I don't have a care in the world. I just rolled my eyes and walked towards the table and sat on the wooden bench. This set up reminds me of a usual cafeteria scene: the popular women sat on the middle table while the jocks who are the best warriors in the training grounds sat just beside them. The others are divided as is until you reach the bottom of the food chain who are the omegas like me, weak to the bones, seated either alone or with the same kind.