Author
One year ago, New York
Returning to his uncle's house after another tiresome party, the young man was indignant about having to travel two hundred miles for the sake of people whom he hated with all his heart. His cousin also infuriated him with how she behaved as soon as Norton appeared on the horizon. Mark thought she was a complete fool: she let Mike wipe his feet on her. Still, not giving a damn about his cousin, he was in no hurry to give her any advice.
Having burst into the house, Mark wanted to sneak up to his room unnoticed, but the squeaky exclamation behind his back drove his irritation to new heights.
"You should have kept your mouth shut, Mark! But no, you had to show off in front of everyone! As soon as I think I can attract Mike's attention, you fly in and spoil everything with your presence!"
"Great! It's the perfect excuse not to come here again. And you keep getting yourself in shitting situations..."
"What happened to you?" Justin Wood, Miranda's father and Mark's uncle, intervened.
"Dad," his cousin whimpered like a little girl. "Mark has quarreled with the guys again."
"Mark has quarreled with the guys again," Wood mimicked Miranda and made a grimace, wiping away imaginary tears. "Want some advice? Grow a spine and stand up for yourself. Norton will never pay attention to you as long as you act like a brat. Even if you look a hundred times better than his ex, he'll still tell you to go to hell. Do you get it?"
"Respect your cousin!" A painfully familiar female voice rang out, which made him feel sick.
Mark lazily looked around the living room, noticing that everyone was assembled, only two teenagers were missing. His parents were there too, portraying the roles of perfect spouses and telling incredible stories about what a loving and happy family they had in New York. The young man had a terrible aversion to this farce, so he always refused to take part in it, preferring to merge with the shadows.
The only person he really respected and appreciated was his uncle. Only he constantly stood up for his nephew, openly condemning the behavior of his brother and his wife. He considered the choice of bride, which they imposed on their son, especially unacceptable. But no one asked Mark. Not that he cared; he could have a lone of mistresses a mile long and his parents would not say a thing.
Without answering his mother Mark, indifferent, started up the stairs to the second floor to pack his things. He did not make it far before his mother's nagging voice stopped him in his tracks again.
"Mark, tomorrow's trip is canceled. The Davens are in Boston, and we've already scheduled dinner to meet Emilia. You will have to tie the knot, so why not start chatting right now?"
"Maybe because I'm going to school?"
"You'll miss one day, it's okay..." his mother said, waving her hand. She considered it so insignificant, she had already turned her back on her son and changed the topic of the conversation.
Fuck you, he spat quietly in his heart. Mark turned around and continued up the stairs. Once inside his room, he slammed the door with some force.
The next day, the meeting may have taken place, but without his presence. Justin offer to help, so Mark still took an early flight from Boston to New York, without his parents' knowledge.
The morning before the first day of school was just disgusting. His mother rewarded his reckless act by screaming his ear off over the phone, making sure he knew how he had let the family down by escaping this way. Then she threatened to disinherit him and deprive him of all financial support, to teach this young man a lesson. Mark simply laughed about it, urging her not to waste time, knowing she would not dare. She valued her reputation too much, and no one in the family needed a scandal of this magnitude. Wood spat on their prohibitions and reproaches, turning his back on his parents as they had done so many times before.
Mark had long since started creating his own 'buffer', in order not to depend on anyone in case of unforeseen circumstances. With his uncle's help, he had opened a bank account into which he always transferred most of his allowance from his personal card. His parents never checked their son's expenses, which played right into his hands.
The rainy weather also added fuel to Wood's terrible mood. He hated the dampness, the puddles, the drizzle that constantly got in his face. He particularly hated the far-fetched idea that romance was somehow woven into this natural phenomenon. If couples in love found something beautiful in kissing and hugging passionately in the pouring rain, Mark considered it simple idiocy and a sign of a complete lack of brains.
The showdown with his mother took up too much of his time, so Mark was late for the first lesson. At least some prick did not take his place in the school parking lot. Not that it helped a lot: realizing he had forgotten his umbrella at home infuriated him even more. Fortunately, the rain eased up, leaving him just with hair that had the 'wet' look, enhancing his sex appeal.
Entering the classroom without knocking, he silently walked to the back desk by the window. Throwing his backpack on the floor, he defiantly plopped down on his chair. Flashing a smile, Mark nodded at all his classmates of the fairer sex and looked at his friends, not quite understanding what they tried to signal with their half-hidden gestures. The teacher greeted the newcomer dryly, without saying a word about him being late, and continued with the lesson.
Wood turned away, thoughtlessly staring at the drops falling from the roof, struggling with the drowsiness the nasty cold fluorescent lamps always brought on. Suddenly, it dawned on him that someone had taken the ever-empty table to his right, and he slowly turned that way.
In front of him sat a blonde girl who, against the background of the local beauties, would do well to lose a couple of pounds. Bending her head forward, she hid her face behind her long hair, making notes of the information the teacher tried to impart to them.
"Who are you?" Mark leaned closer, attracting attention with his commanding tone, but fear so bound this stranger's body that she did not even flinch. "Are you deaf? I'm talking to you!"
"Mr. Wood, do you have a question? Ask, we'll listen," the teacher interceded calmly, as if this was not the second time he was being brazenly interrupted.
"I'd like to know: what's an outsider doing here?" The young man was still looking at the girl searchingly, assessing her appearance.
"If you'd come to class on time, Mark, you'd know she's new in class. You can get acquainted after class."
"I don't think so..." The young man straightened up and turned away again. "She's some kind of mouse..."
There were giggles throughout the class, but he did not care. The only thing that bothered him at that moment was his desire to get out of there as soon as possible. Life was so monotonous; he needed a breath of fresh air. The same faces, the parties, the same girls who always tried to get into his pants. Everyone constantly demanding something or asking for something, but giving nothing in return. Mark was tired. He wanted to leave this city the first chance he could, severing all his ties, and never return.
Or maybe it was just the weather getting on his nerves?
Noticing at the edge of his vision the new classmate had turned around, Wood looked sharply at her, but only briefly caught a ghostly trace of green eyes. Without realizing it, he froze, feeling an incomprehensible pressure in his chest. The young man stared intently at her, mentally willing her to pay attention to him, but it was all in vain.
Rumors spread quickly, and by the middle of the school day, almost the entire school knew who she was, who her parents were, and from which school she had transferred. If this calm and quiet girl, being a bit too complex and lacking communication skills, had hoped to become inconspicuous and fly under the radar until the end of the year, she made a big mistake by getting into this hive of wild wasps, that would never accept a stranger.
Mark and his friends decided not to interfere with the usual teenage bullying, preferring to just watch from the sidelines, because the school's kings were above such petty acts, preferring to occupy themselves with much more serious games. But every time Wood and Alana's eyes met, he experienced an unpleasant sensation inside, similar to that fleeting eye contact on the first day of school.
However, soon the victim attracted the attention of the guys with her pathetic existence. Hanging out at the house of a friend whose parents were out of town, they all got a little buzzed. After discussing the girl's appearance, everyone got to discussing what they liked about her and what they did not. Everyone participated in the conversation except Mark. He was just quietly bored...
"I wonder how many dates she'll go on before she spreads her legs?" Ken, Wood's best friend, asked.
"Do you think something's waiting for you?" One guy pointed a finger at him.
"What, him?" Wood chuckled. "No, of course not. Did you see his face?"
All this was said in jest, because Ken Wilmore in no way had an inferior appearance to Mark, and also enjoyed excellent success with the female sex.
"Really?" Throwing a couple of chips from the bag in his friend's face, Ken joined in the humor. "So you can show your skills?"
"Come on! Like I don't have better things to do."
"You don't have the guts, do you, Wood?" Shifting into a more comfortable position, Wilmore felt excited. He always felt second to Mark, and here was such a chance to take him down a notch or two.
"I simply don't want to. It's easy to get a gray mouse to breed." Yet, no one supported him. Instead, they all took the opposite view, jeering and cajoling him, as if teasing a wild animal with a piece of meat.
"Can we make a bet?" Ken persisted, grabbing the bull by the horns.
"I'm afraid I'll bankrupt you if you lose," Mark fixed his friend's eyes with a stare of displeasure, realizing this was done intentionally.
"Voice your wish, and then we'll see."
"A Lamborghini Huracán..."
Mark knew that Wilmore would never agree to this, so he calmly continued the dialogue, refusing other conditions in advance.
"Are you out of your mind, Wood? Do you even know how much this car costs?"
Some guys choked on their beers, then started gasping for air in ways that would put an asthma sufferer to shame.
"This bet wasn't my idea. As I see it, you're all interested in this, so you can all contribute, and divide the amount equally among yourselves."
"And what's in it for us?"
"Come up with something and keep it to yourselves. Let it be a surprise for me - I still can't refuse. I think that's even more interesting, don't you?"
"Since the stakes are so high..." Wilmore came up with an idea everyone else supported, and there was no way out. "Let's change the terms of the bet a little. You are, so to speak, a 'virgin' in terms of serious relationships, so we'll help fix this oversight! You have to be Alana Moore's boyfriend and stay that way for the rest of the year. And no sex. That will happen only at the very end, and then you will dump her. At the exit we'll have a broken heart, a cool car and a good mood."
"And no cheating!" someone chimed in from the side, which only made Mark close his eyes with displeasure. Three months of abstinence!
"Is that it?"
Looking around, Wood had no doubt that they would agree. In front of him sat six comrades from very rich families, for whom such games were like a drug. He caught the nods of approval from all the participants, and that evening, the fateful bet was made.