But our most dangerous enemies, are the ones we never knew we had.
+++++
"I can't wait," I smile, scrolling through gowns on my iPad. There's a few that've caught my eye--a forest green one in particular that I absolutely have to have.
"I can tell," Holden laughs lightly beside me. "If that's the one you like, I'll buy it," he says, glancing from the Versace dress that I've been staring at for 8 minutes back to me.
I stop myself from giving him a look. Even when we were just friends he'd want to pay for things for me. Now that we've been dating for a week he offers even more often.
He's the only one that sees behind the designer clothes and handbags my aunt and uncle have paid for. Probably because I still work for him.
I feel like he sees me as dirt poor, and it's getting on my nerves. I don't need his or anyone else's handouts. I'm perfectly capable.
Plus, I'd hate to ask him or anyone else to buy the $8,000 dress, no matter how badly I can't get it out of my mind.
"Thank you," I say sweetly, holding in my rant. "But it's really okay. I get my pay check in a few days."
He opens his mouth to say something and I give him a pleading look.
He closes his mouth and narrows his eyes at me, before getting distracted by a curl that's fallen into my face.
He pulls on it gently, then lets go, letting it spring back up. I giggle and he tucks the strand behind my ear.
"I'm nervous," I say truthfully after a second, licking my lips and setting my iPad down on the coffee table.
"Don't be," he says, with a small shake of his head. "You'll win it."
I exhale and give a forced smile, nodding slightly.
I fucking hope so.
I could've jumped for joy when the mail came 2 days ago and I got a letter inviting me to the Hamilton Ball. In fact, I did jump for joy--with an obnoxious squel. I RSVP'd immediately.
Elijah's also been invited, and the girls. None of them are submitting to be chosen for the money, though. Holden doesn't even want to go.
Balls like this are exactly the kind of thing he doesn't like. If it wasn't for me and the dozens of potential investors there, he wouldn't even be going.
"Have you had any ideas?" I ask, standing up and pulling open his refrigerator, grabbing the apple juice.
He's been busy trying to think of another fundraiser. He still needed to generate 24 million dollars.
I can't even fathom that amount of money. Truly, I cant.
"I'm thinking a date auction, since it's almost Valentine's Day," he says.
I wrinkle my nose, finding it hard to be supportive of the idea.
"You know, hot girls in red dresses lined up, guys bidding to go on dates with them," he explains.
"I know what it is," I say, rolling my eyes. "It's sexist."
Auctioning girls off like a car or a painting? That's disgusting.
"Do you have another idea?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.
I think for a second. Bake sale? Car wash? Those worked when my soccer team wanted to get money for hoodies, but this is a slightly different situation.
I shake my head no.
"Would it help if I let you decorate?" He asks.
"Hmm," I think. "Yeah, I guess that would help."
Even if he hadn't asked me, I'd still be there arranging centerpieces and tying balloons. He knows this already, which is why he asked.
"That's not your job, Harper," he complained the last time when the decorater complained to him that I'd been rearranging things.
Holden smiles and opens his mouth to speak.
"But I'm still not in favor of this," I sigh dramatically, cutting him off.
"It'll be fun," he says.
"Can I pick out the dresses?"
"Whatever you want."
"Then it could be fun," I nod. The only fun part would be dressing up and socializing, though, not watching girls be auctioned off like cattle.
Holden furrows his eyebrows. "But you understand you're not participating right?"
"What do you mean?" I ask mimicking his facial expression.
"I'm not auctioning you off to date some guy. I'm not allowing you to participate."
I raise my eyebrows at him and scoff in amusement and disbelief.
"Oh you're not allowing me?"
"No," he says sternly not backing down. "I'll let you pick out the dresses. I'll let you decorate, but I'm not letting you be apart of the auction."
I scoff again and grab my phone off the counter making my way to my Uggs and coat by the front door.
Who does he think he is? I won't be with anyone that's going to try and control me.
Not that I even want to be in the stupid auction, but who is he to tell me I'm not allowed to?
"Where are you going?" He sighs as I slip my shoes on.
"I'll talk to Nathan about the dresses and decorations, so you don't have to text me," I say monotonously, ignoring his question.
"Fine," Holden spits childishly, annoyed that I'm annoyed.
I roll my eyes at his immaturity and walk out the door, hearing him lock it behind me.
He's lucky I'm even helping him. I have my own life. It may not involve being a multi millionare, but being a senior in high school with a job is just as hard.
+++++++
"This is Holden Frasier," Holden answers the phone stoically.
"Mr. Frasier, how are you?" The voice on the other line asks.
It's Nathan, the intern he recently hired to work as his assistant. This is all too much for him to handle on his own, no matter how much Harper tries to help him. Plus, he doesn't want to burden Harper, and interns work for free.
"Good, Nathan, how are you?" Holden responds, rolling his eyes.
He hates small talk, but his father informed him it's necessary in business so that no one finds you to be rude. Once you have a name for yourself, that's when you can start being rude.
"Good, good," Nathan answers. "I spoke with Harper. She sent me pictures of some dresses and decorations that I'm going to send over for your approval."
"Alright," Holden says, trying not to sound annoyed. She'd actually ignored him all day. Not that he had made an effort to text or call her. They're both too stubborn to submit first.
"But more importantly," Nathan starts, his tone changing slightly, sounding a little worried. "I just got off the phone with Jonathon."
Jonathon is the real estate agent tasked with selling the large vacant building Holden is keen on turning into a casino. Hearing that he had called Nathan unnerves him.
"About what?" Holden asks, squinting his eyes slightly and shifting in his seat.
"He said they've got an offer for the building that is significantly higher than that of the asking price, and they're prepared to buy immediately."
Holden feels his heart sink, his eyebrows furrowing as he processes the news.
What's he saying? It's over? His dreams are crushed and he's going to Duke?
"Unless you can meet the asking price within the next 2 months, they're going to sell."
Holden inhales then exhales loudly, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on his palm.
How was he going to get that much money in 2 months?
"Alright," Holden says, tapping his foot anxiously against the carpeted floor of his study. "Thank you, Nathan."
Holden hangs up immediately, not allowing Nathan to say anything else. He quickly calls Jonathon, still steadily tapping his foot as he waits for him to answer.
"This is Jonathan Barnes," À friendly voice says after the third ring.
"We had a deal. You said you'd hold off selling for at least 10 weeks," Holden says, feeling himself getting angry.
Jonathan sighs on the other end. If he wanted to deal with bratty 18 year old kids he'd have been a teacher.
"Mr. Frasier, with the amount of money they're offering, we just ca--"
"Who?" Holden cuts Jonathan off, no longer caring about not being rude. No one's going to take this away from him before he even gets the chance to try.
"I'm sorry?" Jonathan asks.
"Who is making the offer?" Holden repeats slowly.
There's a pause for a second.
"I can't really disclose that information, Mr. Frasier."
"Jonathon," Holden runs his hand through his hair. "Please."
There's a loud exhale on the other end, followed by some rustling of papers.
"Ceaser Hamilton."
++++++
Holden had Nathan schedule a meet up with Ceaser Hamilton immediately, stressing that it be as soon as possible.
To his surprise, he agreed to meet tonight.
When you call a man like Ceaser Hamilton and ask him to meet you as soon as possible to discuss business, you expect him to say he's too busy. Maybe in a week, or a month, or a year.
Not in 6 hours.
Holden swings open the door to the fancy restaurant and impatiently waits his turn at the hostesses podium.
He'd rather be planning the auction. Going over details a hundred times to make sure it's perfect. Instead he's here because some rich asshole he'd only met a few times was inconviencing him.
"Mr. Frasier," the young blonde smiles politely, immediately recognizing him. "Right this way."
She leads him through the restaurant that smells of freshly baked rolls, filled with sounds of light chattering and laughs over soft piano music.
"Holden Frasier," Ceaser greets as he stands up from the table, extending his hand.
"Mr. Hamilton," Holden shakes his hand firmly as the hostess reaches around him to set a menu down before walking off.
"Please, call me Ceaser," he smiles widely. Ceaser's hair is the grayest of gray--like Anderson Cooper gray. Holden recalls the last time he'd seen it completely black, at a Christmas party 8 years ago. His smile is cocky showing perfect white teeth--contrasting with Holden's stoic look--and his skin is pale. "You're not a kid anymore. Happy belated birthday, by the way."
"Thanks," Holden replies solemnly.
He shifts in his seat, ready to discuss the building, when Ceaser speaks first.
"I knew you'd be calling as soon as the realtor let you know," Ceaser nods his head slowly, squinting at Holden as if he can see right through him.
A waitress approaches and Holden orders his drink and meal before she even asks for it, without so much as a glance in her direction.
Surprised, her mouth gapes slightly before she scribbles it on her notepad and turns her attention to Ceaser. She nods as he orders, writing it down quickly before collecting the menus with a smile and returning to the kicthen.
"The building you plan to buy, as I'm sure you've heard by now, I plan on turning into a casino," Holden says.
"I have heard," Ceaser nods with a slight smirk.
Holden's jaw locks.
"I think its a great idea. I think it could be a success, if you are indeed your father's son," he continues. "I also noticed you've RSVP'D to my annual ball."
Holden's face twists slightly.
"So?" He says.
Ceaser chuckles lightly at the 18 year old in front of him.
"So," he stresses. "I want you to know that you've been chosen as the winner of the $500,000 endowment."
Holden's eyebrows furrow and looks at Ceaser with narrowed eyes.
"I didn't apply," he says.
The waitress returns with both plates and sets them down before the two men before scurrying off.
"I know you didn't apply, son," Ceaser says.
"I don't think I understand," Holden shakes his head, taking a bite of steak.
Ceaser folds his hands and leans in closer over the table.
"I'm prepared to back off from buying the property and give you however much you need to get started on this project, if you agree to accept the endowment at the ball."
Things were clearer suddenly. Like Holden had been standing in a fog that just lifted.
Whoever won the money spent a few days talking to the press, telling them how grateful they were to Ceaser Hamilton for his amazing ball that provided them with this amazing amount of money that gave them an amazing opportunity.
Holden scoffs in disbelief, sitting back in his chair--is he really being blackmailed right now?
"I want that money to go to Harper Caldwell," he says sternly.
"Harper Caldwell," Ceaser repeats. "The niece of Lindsey Caldwell that showed up out of nowhere and the stole the show."
"So you know her?" Holden asks.
"I know her," Ceaser answers. "Read her submission essay for the endowment just yesterday. It was great. What, are you dating her?" Ceaser asks with a grin.
Holden's jaw clenches at Ceaser's patronizing tone.
"I'm not taking that money from her."
"Are you really going to let this girl ruin your future?" Ceaser asks incredously, raising his eyebrows.
"Listen," he continues after a few seconds of Holden staring at him blankly in silence. "Your girlfriend seems nice. She's a good candidate for the money. Her grades are better than yours, her SAT scores are higher, but helping Holden Frasier follow in his father's footsteps is a much better headline than paying Harper Caldwell's Yale tuition, understand?"
"If I don't accept, would the money go to her?"
"No," Ceaser lies. "No, it wouldn't."
Holden sits looking at him hard in silence, contemplating his options, unable to call Ceaser's bluff. Prior to this Saturday's fundraiser, he still needs 24 million dollars, and this guy is prepared to give him 500 thousand more than what he'll need after Saturday.
All he has to do is walk up on stage and say thank you. If he doesn't, Ceaser will buy the building and do God knows what with it.
It's more than accepting the money or not accepting the money. It's taking everything away from Harper or not taking it from her. It's breaking the promise he made to her months ago, or keeping his word. It's getting his share of the company or letting Tyler have it. It's spending 4 years in college or being done with school.
He'd take the scholorship money and give it to Harper, then use the money from Ceaser in return for the casino.
"Fine," Holden says, though he's not pleased. He extends his hand for a handshake. "You have a deal."
++++++
"Why the hell are you in my house?" Holden questions, annoyed when he emerges from his room to let Nathan in and sees Tyler lying on his couch watching ESPN.
"Maids are cleaning my place," he responds blankly without looking away from the screen.
Holden rolls his eyes and opens the front door to let Nathan in.
Nathan follows Holden not far into the study, closing the door a little more than half way.
"So how'd it go?" Nathan asks Holden breaking the silence after a minute.
They'd been sitting at the desk going over numbers for about 10 minutes. Nathan took it that something bad occurred during the meeting with Ceaser yesterday, since Holden looks angry and frustrated.
He was staring at the papers angrily, flipping through them violently, punching numbers into the calculator harshly.
Holden exhales and sets the papers down.
"Ceaser's blackmailing me," Holden spits out the word blackmailing like it holds a bad taste in his mouth. "If I accept the endowment at the Hamilton Ball he'll back off the property and give me the rest of the money I need. If I don't, he'll buy."
Nathan nods for a second. They could be friends, the two of them, under different circumstances. You can't really be friends with the people you employ.
"You applied for the endowment?" He asks, unaware.
"No."
"Oh," Nathan says nodding slowly. "Well, what's so bad about accepting it anyway? That it's rigged?"
"Harper applied," Holden explains.
Tyler listens intently from the living room. Holden really just sets himself up--he hardly even has to do anything.
He pulls out his phone and presses record.
"So what are you going to do?" Nathan asks.
Holden licks his lips and exhales. "I'm going to accept the endowment at the Hamilton Ball. What other choice do I have? I need this, and Ceaser Hamilton needs a headline. He'd rather be helping Holden Frasier start a casino, than a 16 year old socialite with a sob story get into college," he mocks Ceaser's words from yesterday. "Everyone's getting what they want."
"Except Harper."
Tyler stops the recording and shakes his head, almost laughing aloud at how easy this is. This, on top of the recording from earlier this month, Holden wouldn't survive.
"No, Harper, too," Holden says. "I'll just give her the $500,000."
Nathans eyebrows furrow. "Will she take it? I mean, isn't the whole reason why she applied because she wants to feel like she earned it herself?"
Holden narrows his eyes, looking down at the oak desk.
"She'll understand," he nods to himself. "Or I'll just have to figure something out."
++++++
Today's the day of the auction. I tried to ignore Holden this week, but gave up after the second day when we got to school.
Today though, it's more like he's ignoring me. Not that it's his fault, I know he's busy setting up, like I've been busy decorating one of the ballrooms at The Anabelle.
Shiny heart shaped balloons floated at the top of the high ceiling, their red and white strings hanging down.
The tables have white roses in a vase as their center pieces. The stage is a cream color, peppered with red rose petals.
"Done." I say setting down the curling wand. I was putting beach waves in Becca's hair.
Holden got practically every female he knows to sign up, promising them only attractive rich men will be placing the bids.
The dress I picked out was meant to be identical for everyone, but most of the older women declined to wear it, so we all wore either one of two I chose.
Mine, like Becca's, Alejandra's and Lydia's was a short, satin wrap dress in a deep red color as rich as blood. The other option was a longer, less reveling version of a different material, but same color. Holden made it clear he wanted the dresses to be red. And sexy.
I accidentally make eye contact with Lydia, who stands across the suite Holden let us get ready in, adjusting the strap on her red stilletto. I still haven't spoken to her, and I really don't want to.
"Come on," I tell Becca and Alejandra. They set their makeup brushes down and follow me out to the ballroom.
It's starting to get crowded and I spot Holden across the room talking to some guy in a suit and shaking his hand.
He looks so good.
His hair is slicked back and he's wearing a black suit with a red tie.
Nathan appears and calls my name. I snap my head from Holden to the blonde 19 year old in front of me.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"I need all the girls on the stage," he says, placing a hand on my back and guiding me to the stage as Becca and Alejandra trail behind, complementing each others highlight.
Nathan stops suddenly just before we reach the stage, dropping his hand to his side and standing in front of me. He looks me up and down, eyebrows furrowed.
"Harper," he says slowly.
"Yeah?"
"Holden told me very specifically that you are not to participate in the auction."
"She isn't," a stern voice comes from behind me. Holden walks into my view and I roll my eyes. From the corner of my eye I see Alejandra and Becca exchange glances. I give them a pointed look and they sigh before walking off to the stage.
"I am," I argue.
Holden licks his lips and gives me a warning look which just pisses me off more. Turning on my heels, I walk to the stage.
++++++
Holden exhales through his nose and clenches his jaw as he watches Harper walk away from him and up onto the stage.
"Make sure everyone in here understands there's not to be a single bid placed on her," he says to Nathan filled with vindictiveness and frustration.
Nathans eyebrows raise slightly and he licks his lips with a nod, before walking of to spread the word to the crowd of about 100. It was more of a Valentine's Day party with am auction, since some people came only to drink and dance and be social, instead of actually bid or be bid on. However, there was a pricey entrance fee of course.
Harper eyes Holden angrily from her place in line behind him, as he thanks everyone for coming and starts up the auction.
The auctioneer starts by introducing Lydia. She smiles and saunters up beside him.
Life was lonelier than ever after New Years Eve for her. She didn't have a boyfriend, she didn't have a best friend, Holden is busier than ever, the girls still supported Harper even after the exposé, and now she doesn't even have Elijah.
The auction itself doesn't interest her, but she misses her friends. And she needed to help Holden.
"Can we start the bid at $1,500?"
$1,500 was the minimum bid set by Holden for all the girls. He expected them all to at least reach $3,000.
Hands fly up and the announcer ups the price to $2,000. When he reaches $3,500 the amount of hands in the air start to decrease.
Lydia can see Austin with his hand still raised and she almost rolls her eyes there on stage in front of everyone. She had already told him she wasn't interested at Holden's party.
Jake shifts uncomfortably as he watches people bid to take his ex girlfriend out.
At $4,600 Austin is the only one still raising his hand. Jake catches a hint of dissatisfaction on Lydia's face along with a hint of jealously within himself.
"Going once, going twice--"
Jake shoots his hand up at the last second and Lydia chokes, her eyes wide.
"$5,000," he says confidently without looking at Lydia, afraid of her reaction.
"Do we have $5,500?"
Both hands stay up.
Elijah rolls his eyes. The look on Lydia's face shows she obviously doesn't want to be with either one of them alone on a date.
He'd save her if he wasn't still mad at her. She's conceited, she's tortured Harper for no reason, and he really doesn't want to spend the money on her. Bur he should, right? And he knows Jake won't be able to top him. His parents have been on the verge of cutting him off since his midterm grades came in.
"$6,300" Elijah says, upping the previous bid by almost $1,000.
Both Jake and Austins heads snap to the new bidder.
Jake stares at Elijah, bewildered, who avoids eye contact. He's just as confused as Lydia, who shows it on her face as the auctioneer calls out, "sold!"
Holden smiles, pleased with the outcome, while Lydia walks off the stage with furrowed eyebrows, passing Elijah without making eye contact to get some wine.
Jake's jaw locks as his eyes burn holes in the back of Elijah's head.
"Turned out kind of funny, huh?" Austin chuckles, nudging Jake playfully, who in response rolls his eyes and walks off.
"Harper likes dogs and going to the beach. This past November she modeled in New York Fashion week, and she has plans to attend Yale in the fall," the auctioneer finishes introducing Harper who stands beside him, patient and smiling.
"Let's start the biding at $1,500?"
Crickets. Harper lets out whats beteeen a scoff and silent, bitter laugh when she looks around and sees no hands up.
Is this a joke?
"$1,000?" The announcer asks, confusion slightly evident in his voice as it is on Harper's face.
She expected to get more than lydia. Way more. And here the announcer is, lowering the price.
People in the audience look around at each other. It was made very clear by Nathan that Holden doesn't want anyone bidding on her.
"Do I have $800?" The auctioneer asks, and Harper hears a few snickers behind her as her cheeks heat up.
She licks her lips and looks at the ground, her eyes starting to burn from the embarrassment.
Holden grinds his teeth from where he stands, feeling bad for the hasty decision he made in frustration.
"$20,000," a strong voice calls out. Harper's head snaps up as she searches for the voice in the crowd. Tyler steps foward and everyone's eyes land on him, brows raising at the brave soul that blatantly defied Holden's orders.
Holden's jaw locks and Harper almost throws up in her mouth when the auctioneer says "sold." Though she doesn't want to go on at date with Tyler, she's relieved he's saved her from the excruciating embarrassment.
Tyler smiles smugly, the $20,000 not even mattering to him. None of the money Holden makes tonight will even matter when he's done.
It's the things we walk away from that feel like they cost the most. And yet, it's when we've been outbid—forced to watch our prize go home with others—that the rules of protocol no longer apply. I wouldn't put you paddles away just yet. Who knows what bidders will do when they're desperate.
++++++
"I can't believe you're actually taking Lydia on a date," I spit in disgust from the doorway as Elijah brushes his hair.
"It's not a date for the fifth time," he sighs without looking away from the mirror. "We've been friends for 10 years, we need to sort this out."
"I thought you sorted it out at New Years? You're ruining my cousins life, you're a bitch, you're dead to me, remember?"
Elijah rolls his eyes. "You don't know her like I do; you don't get it."
"I know everything about everyone," I state simply.
"Just get out of my room, Harper," he says in annoyance and frustration.
"Whatever," I mumble, turning on my heels and starting down the hall.
A figure heading up the steps catches my attention, my face distorting at the realization of who it is.
I walk more quickly to my room, attempting to slam the door, but Holden reacts quickly and thwarts my actions with a large hand.
"Seriously?" He mumbles, entering my room with a frown.
"What are you doing here?" I snap.
"Your Aunt let me in," he starts. I glare at him and he licks his lips nervously. "I'm sorry about yesterday."
"You're only sorry because Tyler bid on me. You would've rather me looked like an idiot," I rant.
"That's not true," he denies.
"Do you know how embarrassing that was?" I ask loudly. I don't know what was worse, the embarrassment itself or the fact that Holden was behind it.
"I'm sorry," Holden repeats and I roll my eyes, angry tears forming but not falling. "I just like you so much...I don't want to see with anyone else."
"That's not an excuse," I mumble, folding my arms.
"I know."
I look up at him, reading the sincerity on his face. I sigh, rolling my eyes for the tenth time and stepping up to my vanity.
I sift through the lipsticks looking for a taupe color and see Holdens eyebrows furrow behind me in the mirror.
"Where are you going?"
"On a date with Tyler. That's what you do after a date auction."
It's silent for a few seconds and Holden shoves his hands into his pockets.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do," he says slowly and carefully, "but please don't go."
"I have to," I say, applying my lipstick. I wish I didnt, but I do. "He's paying $20,000."
"This was your idea, anway," I want to throw at him, but I know that wouldn't be fair.
"Fuck the money," Holden shrugs.
I turn around and face him. "You need it. And I need to go."
I grab my heels and sit on my bed to fasten them.
"Quick question," Holden says after a few silent seconds, rubbing the back of his neck. "If I just gave you the $500,000, wouldn't that be just as good as getting the grant at the ball?"
I look up at him and blink. We've talked about this before.
"No?" I say obvously. "That defeats the whole purpose of everything. I want to feel like I earned it, at least. If I didn't care how how I got it, I'd ask my aunt."
He nods slowly, looking at the ground.
"Why?" I ask, feeling uneasy as I stand up. "You don't think I'll get it?"
He looks at me and gives a small smile. "Uh," he shakes his head, pulling me into a hug. "No, you'll be fine. Don't worry about it."
+++++
"Wine?"
"No."
"Cocktail?"
"No."
"Scotch?"
"I don't drink."
"Funny, I remember hearing you were the type."
I exhale through my nose and shift in my seat, eyes narrowing slightly at the guy before me, that I had thought not long ago might become my boyfriend.
"What do you want, Tyler?" I ask.
"I want to tell you the truth," he says simply, leaning forward over his plate of ribeye, caviar, and asparagus.
"The truth is you never liked me. You tried to get me to sleep with you to piss off Holden, and then you told him we had sex when we didn't," I say.
"Well that's a part of it," he shrugs with a small smile as if this is amusing. "I want to tell you the truth you don't already know. Holden is going to apply for the Hamilton Ball scholarship money. He wants to use it for the casino. He has to prove to his father by the end of the year--"
"That he can run a business or he has to go to an Ivy League, and you get his part of the company," I finish, rolling my eyes. "I already know that. He wouldn't apply. He wouldn't do that to me."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Tyler stares at me for a second, before pulling his phone out. With a few taps, he hands it to me.
It's an audio recording, dated a few days ago. I look from the phone to him abs he nods as if to tell me to go on and press play.
I sigh dramatically and press play, turning the volume down low so I'm not not being rude. I put the phones speaker to my ear and listen as I hear Nathan's voice.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to accept the endowment at the Hamilton Ball. What other choice do I have? I need this, and Ceaser Hamilton needs a headline. He'd rather be helping Holden Frasier start a casino, than a 16 year old socialite with a sob story get into college. Everyone's getting what they want."
"Except Harper."
The recording stops and I my eyebrows furrow. I look at Tyler in confusion and disbelief, before replaying the tape to confirm what I just heard.
Knots form in my stomach and I just set the phone down on the table. Staring at my plate I replay the words words in my head. I can actually feel my heart breaking into little pieces.
This was our goal from the beginning. How could he tell me he cares about me? How could he even look me in the eye? How could he take this away from me?
"So I know you're an expert at taking people down or whatever now," Tyler says, and my head snaps up to him. I almost forgot he was here. "But I think I could be of assistance in this particular situation."
I lick my lips and grab my purse, standing up to go and harshly pushing my chair in.
"Do whatever you need to do. As long as it hits him hard."
++++++
Um hey hi this was really long jeez.
Um don't hate me???? I'd hate me tbh like damn wow ok there was no chill in this chapter.
May or may not be updating more because XC season is almost over idk why our season is so much longer than everyone else's but I might run indoor track bc they need long distance runners so idkidk no promises.
"it's the things we walk away from that feel like they cost the most. And yet, it's when we've been outbid—forced to watch our prize go home with others—that the rules of protocol no longer apply. I wouldn't put you paddles away just yet. Who knows what bidders will do when they're desperate," is another GG quote.
Vote and comment!!!! Thanks for reading!