In Between The Lines| BOOK #2 IN THE PSU SERIES

nine

"You break the contract, your ass is grass." She rolled her eyes. "You have to drop out," I made sure she understood my point loud and clear. Her eyes narrowed, arms crossing around her chest. "That's a funny joke," I walked to my desk, sitting in the chair and clicking onto my Emails.

We had three minutes until showtime.

"Read the contract, Barbie." My eyes skimmed over the most recent mail sent. It was advising me of the schedule. My dad would be allowing me to go back to football practice, without any interruptions.

Good. Asshole.

"Quit fucking calling me that or I swear to god—" I cut her off with a head tilt and a smile. She was fuming. "You'll do what, Barbie? We have two minutes until showtime. Maybe go clean yourself up in the bathroom before we do this." I watched as her face fell from my words.

"I don't look bad. Quit making me feel like I look bad. I wasn't told that I had to dress up and you aren't even wearing a fucking shirt!" She outbursts as I looked at her as if she had gone mad.

"Don't yell at me, love bug!" I yelled at her as she gave me an exasperated stare. "You know what, fuck you. I'm not doing this interview." She spun on her feet. "Give me the key," She ordered me.

Sixty seconds.

"No, now sit your pretty ass down on my lap. It will last five to ten minutes." She let out a loud groan, stomping her left foot.

What a spoilt brat. She had everything, she could do one thing for me.

Fifty Seconds.

Instead of her talking back, or making a reply at all she walked over to my conference table. She dropped her journal to the side, picking up a chair and carrying it over next to me. She sat down in it, tucking her knees to her chest. Immediately, she started to bite her nails, at least the uninjured ones.

Maybe she was a bad idea. Her looks don't make exceptions for her attitude.

"Sloane—" She cut me off.

"Don't talk to me," She ordered me as I raised my eyebrows.

Thirty seconds.

"Sloane, you look fine," I assured her. I watched as her lip quivered and she looked towards her cuticles. I never meant to make her doubt the way she looked, however—I just discovered a new detail about Sloane Beck.

She was more insecure than a prepubescent boy.

Twenty Seconds.

I huffed out a breath, this was going to go awkwardly. I just meant, maybe she should go wipe the leftover mascara from underneath her eyes. Maybe she should fix the bun her hair was in.

I didn't mean to make her already tiny body image of herself even smaller.

And deep down, she would never admit to me that I hurt her feelings. Her being quiet, making her cuticles bleed, and not paying attention to me was just a way of her telling me that if she stayed silent, she wasn't weak. She was ignoring me because she was 'strong'.

"Okay, I'm going to click the link," I announced as she mumbled something. I sighed, clicking on the loading link. Waiting for someone to pop up.

"You know, I'm surprised you don't hate the person you've become." My face hardened at her words. Before I could respond, multiple people joined the call. I heard her suck in a deep breath.

She was such a bitch.

I wasn't nervous, I was used to this by now.

"Blake," I smiled at my father.