Chapter 18~ Mission Aborted

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After five minutes of this I threw my cutlery down and leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. "Is anyone going to tell me why you're treating me like we haven't been friends for a solid four years?" I asked, staring at the three of them, but Sam especially.

Avery glanced down at the table and Tommy rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Sam sighed. "We're mad that you cheated on Noah, Issy."

I sat, fuming, and watched her for a moment, my breathing quickening. "So that's it huh." I said eventually, shoving my plate away from me noisily. "You're just going to get mad and ignore me without even talking to me about it... without even hearing my side of the story? Is that it?" I stood up angrily and Sam did the same, but of us leaning over so that we could talk but no one else in the cafeteria could hear us.

"Your side of the story? I saw the photo of you and Noah's brother, Isabelle. You don't have a side of the story! You kissed Noah's brother. How could you? You know, you are a lot of things but I never thought you were a cheater!" Sam hissed, making me recoil like she'd slapped me in the face. I stared at her for a second longer before grabbing my bag and sprinting out into the hall, needing some air.

"Hey it's the girl who slept with Nate." One hipster guy called out.

"Slutty." Another one responded.

I ran past the group of kids jeering at me and out of the front doors, sliding down the wall as soon as I was far enough away from everything. I inhaled the fresh air quickly and closed my eyes, leaning my head against the bricks.

My fight with Sam had taken all the energy I had, and I still didn't understand how my best friend could have been so quick to judge me. I made one stupid mistake, which wasn't even real, and she'd bitten my head off like I was a freaking fish stick.

All I wanted to do was go home.

The bell rang to mark the end of lunch and I waited a few more minutes to make sure there would be no one in the hallway when I went back to collect my books.

I tiptoed down the hallway and grabbed my things from my locker, almost jumping out of my skin when I saw someone appear behind me.

I groaned and tried to turn away. "Not now Sabrina."

A delicate, yet surprisingly strong, hand pushed me back until I was backed up against my locker.

"Oh yes, now." Sabrina smiled sweetly before putting her perfectly manicured hands back onto her binder. "You see, Bitchabelle, I learned something very interesting today. I know all about your little deal with Noah, and, while it was cute that you wanted to help, I don't appreciate dweebs like you meddling in my personal life." Sabrina's expression turned stone cold as her green eyes pierced into mine.

Crap. Crap crap crap crap. She knew! How did she know?

"I don't know what you're talking about." I shrugged, trying to play it off cool.

"Oh I think you do. This whole little fake girlfriend thing was a good idea too, while it lasted. Sure, a little overdone a predictable, but I actually believed it... until you went and kissed Nate of course." Sabrina smiled like a cat who got the cream, and all I wanted to do was wipe the sorry grin from her face. Before I could say anything, she continued. "But I guess overall you were pretty successful in your scheme. Noah and I are back together and you get your scholarship. Oh wait," Sabrina gasped falsely as if just remembering something, "I'm sorry, did I forget to mention? I had a little chat with Mr Jones and he decided that recommending a student who had cheated on his son was really not the type of person Princeton wanted in their school."

I felt tears sting in my eyes and I had to swallow back a sob as she went on.

"So instead, Mr Jones and I talked and we decided that I would be the perfect candidate for a scholarship to Princeton." She paused and smiled for dramatic effect, before pulling a piece of paper out of her backpack and handing it to me.

To the Dean of Admissions,

It gives me great pleasure in recommending high school leaver Sabrina Wells to you...

"So he gave me your recommendation. Hope you don't mind." With a shrug she ripped the paper from my hands and grinned smugly, waltzing off to class, leaving me standing in the hallway feeling broken.

I hid my face in my hands as tears started to pour down my cheeks, sobs wracking in my chest.

"Hey." A small, familiar voice appeared, yet I refused to look up. Warm hands encircled me and suddenly I was being pulled into Noah's arms, a place where I didn't want to admit that I felt safe.

How had I ruined everything so badly? I never should have made the stupid bet in the first place and then Sabrina and everyone in school wouldn't have hated me and I would still have my best friends.

I was such a screw up.

"No you're not." Noah shushed me, and it was only then that I realized I'd said it aloud.

"Let me take you home." Noah murmured, grabbing my hand and leading me to the parking lot and into his car. I sat and cried into my sleeves the whole way home, and I could almost feel the worry rolling off of him.

"I'm so sorry, Issy. I'm so so sorry Little Cupid." He whispered as he pulled up in front of my house. I glanced at him through my tears and found that his own dark eyes were glassy, all traces of teasing gone from his handsome face. Without warning another round of sobs exploded from me and he pulled me quickly into his chest, kissing the top of my head.

I don't know why I let him hug me, and I didn't know why I wanted him to hug me. I should've hated him, and yelled at him for forcing me into this stupid deal and for making me pretend to be his girlfriend. I should've hated him for ever talking to me two months ago in Pat's Diner with Sam.

But I couldn't. Because it was Noah, the guy who had snuck in my bedroom window and laughed at my Cabbage Patch Kids, who had pushed me in a pool fully clothed and made me verse him in Just Dance. Noah who had come to my house and watched Mamma Mia with me to make sure Sam was okay, and who had helped me go on a roller-coaster ride and taken me to a party.

It was Noah.

Suddenly, it clicked.

Because I, Isabelle Conway, had feelings for him.

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