Hate Me

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 30TH

Sex for your ex.

English

As I’m walking to my seat in English, I get a text from B.

B: I set up a call with the takeover guy for tonight. 12:30 am EST.

Me: Thank you :)

I stand here for a few seconds, waiting for him to reply, but he doesn’t.

Dallas tickles my side as he walks by so I decide to take my seat.

But before I do, I can’t help but rub his adorable buzz cut. “Your hair is just too cute like this.”

“What is with girls? They all want to rub it. I’ve starting saying, If you rub it three times my genie will pop out.”

“Dallas!” I crack up laughing. “Has anyone taken you up on that? Speaking of which, what ever happened to Panties for the Poor?”

“Still taking donations. Just got a little sidetracked by you-know-who.”

“Ha! She’s like Voldemort. She’s so bad, we can’t even say her name.”

Dallas laughs. “And right now I’m busy with the Sex for your Ex Club.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?”

“I’m offering my services to help newly single cheerleaders get back at their ex-boyfriends.”

“You really are an extraordinary philanthropist.”

“I know,” he says, loosening his tie.

Katie plops down by us. “So, what do you think about Annie and Jake? Ace was pissed last night.”

“Good,” Dallas and I say at the same time.

We all look at each other and laugh.

“Ladies!” our teacher says. “Can we focus on class, please? And Mr. McMahon, kindly tighten your tie so I’m not forced to give you another demerit.”

After she turns toward the blackboard and continues to bore us with Shakespearean vocabulary, Katie makes a funny face and I start giggling.

Dallas whispers, “Did you get into Jake’s brownies again?”

Which makes me giggle some more.

Or maybe I’m still high from Aiden kissing the hell out of me before class.

“Miss Monroe! Why don’t you come up here and pass out the quizzes, since you seem to have so much energy.”

As soon as I stand up, Dallas flips the back of my skirt, causing the whole thing to fly up in the air, probably exposing my thong.

“Dallas!” I yell, laughing and pushing it down.

“All right. That’s it. You two. Outside.”

I freeze and wipe all emotion from my face.

Our teacher motions for us to go and follows us out in the hall, where she chews us out and tells us we’re both getting zeros on our quizzes.

Dallas and I slide down the wall, sit on ground, look at each other, and then both start giggling.

“Last night was awesome. Can you believe that place?” I ask.

“It still sorta seems like we dreamed it.”

“Could we have all had the same dream?”

“We need to find out more. Wanna go back tonight?”

I think about the text I just got from B. “Probably not. It’s only second period, and I’m already tired.”

“Come on, we need to go make sure it’s real. We’ll invite Aiden.”

“Maybe.”

An adorable wink.

Lunch

Cooper comes by our lunch table and hands me a piece of paper.

“Here’s a pass to get out of your seventh period class so we can do some physical therapy on that hamstring.”

“Um, thanks.”

“I’ll help you stretch,” Aiden says. “You should really do it every day.”

My mind immediately goes to doing it with Aiden. I don’t even try to hide my smirk. “Every day, huh?”

He whispers, “Stretching is what I was referring to, but if you want to . . .”

Jake and Annie sit down across from us and I watch as Jake gives her an adorable wink.

So cute, I think. But then Annie does something that surprises me. The girl winks right back at him.

I decide I like the new, bolder Annie.

They flirt as I pick at my food and try to think about doing it with Aiden as opposed to worrying about why Cooper needs to talk to me.

The Side Door.

7th period

Opening the door to Cooper’s office, I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever bad news he’s about to give me.

But when I sit down, he’s grinning.

“What’s going on?”

“I decided not to wait for Garrett. I got a friend of mine to talk to Vincent’s assistant last night. Most of it’s boring bar conversation, but there’s part of it that might be something. I want you to listen.”

“Have you heard anything from Garrett? Did they all make it to France okay?”

“Yes, actually. I got a text from him a few minutes ago. He said all is good.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Okay, here goes,” he says, and presses play.

“My boss? Oh, don’t get me started. He’s always been really demanding, but now he’s almost unbearable. He’s obsessed with some girl that he saw in a club. Wants her to star in this film we’re producing. You’ve probably heard about it. The nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston.”

“Sorry, I haven’t.”

“Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. What matters is I scheduled a business dinner he’s been on me about setting up. With their schedules, it was literally the only night I could make it happen in the next two months. When I posted the date on his calendar, he was furious. Started yelling at me about how I should know he has plans every Thursday night.”

I hear her drinking, a mug hitting the bar, and a voice saying, Another round?

She replies, Please.

“Do you want to know what stupid thing he does every Thursday night he’s in town?”

“Uh, sure.”

“He goes back to the club where he first saw her.”

“Club? What is she, a stripper?”

“No, it’s a dance club. Some bar with no name.”

“The Bar With No Name is the name of the club?”

“No, it literally has no name. One of those places where only the rich and pretty people get in. Or even know about.”

“The Side Door,” I whisper.

Cooper hits pause. “So now you know where he’s going to be tomorrow night. What’s the rest of—” He stops, squints his eyes, then continues. “The rest of the stretching plan? Go change, and I’ll meet you in training room.”

While I’m changing, I remember the first time I met Garrett. It was the day Vincent put the note in Avery’s backpack, and he asked about my habits.

“Are there times you go places by yourself?” Garrett asked me.

“Um, I guess I drive to school by myself and dance class, but that’s about it.”

“You’re supposed to go to the club later tonight,” Tommy reminded.

“Yeah, but I’m going with Cush.”

Mom and Tommy both looked at Garrett.

He said, “I think it’s fine if you’re not alone. Are you picking him up or is he coming here?”

“I was going to pick him up.”

“Let’s have a tail on her just to be safe.”

“Uh, I don’t want some old guy in the club with us.”

“It won’t be some old guy, and he won’t follow you into the club. He’ll sit outside, watch Tommy’s car, and follow you home after you drop off your friend.”

“It’s either that or you don’t go,” Tommy said sternly.

Vincent must have followed me to the club that night. And it may have been just dumb luck that he ran into Vanessa and RiAnne there after I’d left.

In the training room, Cooper pats the table. “Lie on your back,” he says loudly, but then he whispers, “The dean is wandering around.”

I lie on the table. Cooper pulls my legs so that my butt is down toward the end of it. He pushes one of my legs straight up in the air, letting it rest on his shoulder as he leans his shoulder into the back of my thigh.

“Try to keep your knee straight,” he says. “I’ll gently push your leg toward your chest until it hurts. Then I want you to push back against me hard.”

“And you thought having me in this position would put his mind at ease?” I whisper.

He ignores me. “If you have a friend who could help you stretch before you go to bed, that would help too.”

Now I see why Aiden offered to help me stretch. Cooper’s practically lying on top of me.

My leg starts to shake, so I push back hard against his shoulder.

After pressing for a few seconds, he says, “Stop,” then gently pushes my leg again. I’m surprised that it easily goes farther than it did before.

He stretches my other leg and then says, “I’m going to get you a heat wrap.”

He leaves, comes back with a warm wrap, and says, “Okay, he’s gone. Come back here.”

He leads me into a supply room. “Tell me about The Side Door.”

“It’s where he tried to kidnap me,” I say simply. “Tomorrow night, I’m going back there.”

“What?! No, you’re not.”

“This is the part where you’re going to earn that raise.”

“Are you nuts?”

“No. I want him to think I’m back home, so he’ll stay far away from B and my family.”

Cooper keeps shaking his head.

“I’ll take care of our flight. Let’s plan on leaving here at six.”

“Fine. I think it would be best if everyone thinks I’m still here, since you’re signing out. I’m going to hide in the back of your car, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds smart.”

Heading to the girls’ locker room to get changed for soccer, I run into Dawson.

“Hey, we’re all going to Taco Tuesday tonight, even though it’s Wednesday. You wanna come?”

“Yum. That sounds awesome.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d do that then go to the wrestling match.”

A ticking time bomb.

Tutoring

“Hey, Dawson said the guys are all going to Taco Tuesday even though it’s Wednesday. Are you?” I ask Aiden when I get to his room.

His gorgeous mouth twists into a frown. “I meant to talk to you about this last night,” he says, the frown disappearing, “but you kept my mouth busy until curfew.”

I blush. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“What about us?”

“On the beach, when we talked about Brooklyn . . .”

“Yeah?”

“I said I'd take you for now.”

“I remember.”

“Look, I know you were in a relationship with Dawson, but I feel like until we get past that point, until you decide who you . . .” He stops again. “I guess I'm saying I’m not planning to ask you to be my girlfriend—because, obviously, you aren't ready for that—but that doesn't mean I could handle you dating other people here.”

My chest swells with happiness. “I don't want you dating anyone else either.”

“Boots, I told you, you're the only girl I've kissed all semester. The only girl I ever want to kiss.”

I run my fingers through his hair. “I appreciate how understanding you’re being about all of this.”

“I have a ticking time bomb countdown app on my phone. For your birthday,” he confesses.

“Aiden, that's horrible!”

“No, it's not. It’s just reminding me that each day I get with you is precious.”

“I’m sorry I didn't tell you when I stopped doing stuff with Dawson. It must have been horrible for you when I hung out with him. Now I understand why you acted like such a little bitch sometimes.”

“What?!” he says with a grin, grabbing my waist playfully. “I think you just liked watching me suffer.”

“No, I didn’t, because when you suffered you pretend-punched my head. And pretend-punching someone's head is not nice.”

“Better than punching it for real.”

“Maybe, unless you tell them you’re pretend-punching them.” I put my finger up to his lips. “And before you say I did that. I did not. You were lurking behind me when you overheard. You told me to my face.”

He looks deep into my eyes, the playful mood turning serious with a single look. He doesn't say anything, just kisses me.

And does this kiss ever speak.

It's a kiss that's more emotional than it is sexual. It's a kiss that says all our fighting, all our misunderstandings, our lack of communication, all the hurt feelings, were worth it.

But when his tongue gets involved in the kiss and he pulls me onto the bed with him, and onto his lap, it takes the kiss to a whole other level.

It’s emotion mixed with desire.

And I decide that might be the most powerful combination of all.

With every flick of his tongue, with every greedy touch of his lips, with every caress of my face, I know it's not just a silly love potion.

It's what love is supposed to be.

Scary, exhilarating—from the top of the world to the pits of hell—all-consuming love.

I think of his time bomb app, knowing that if I had one, it would be set to go off in March when I’ll go public, not August for my birthday. Which means I should follow his lead and appreciate the time we have left.

Liquidity.

12:30am

I flip open my screen to find B waiting for me.

He looks upset. Or pissed at me, I’m not sure.

“Hey. You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, but I don’t believe him. Something’s off.

“Did something happen?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Oh, good. I’m kinda nervous about this call. I know nothing about this stuff.”

“Me either. That’s why I set you up with Michael. So, conference him in, then I’ll introduce you and let you two talk.”

“Wait? What? You’re not staying on the call?”

“There’s really no reason to.”

“Yes there is! I can’t do this without you.”

“Look, finance is not something I really give a shit about and I don’t care to learn. As long as I have my board, I’m happy.”

“We’ve had that conversation before, B. It was bullshit then and it’s bullshit now.”

“Whatever. I’m traveling and I have to practice. I don’t have time for it. Do you still want me to introduce you or what?”

I push back tears and force myself to stay calm. “Yes, please.”

B goes, “Hey, Michael. Keatyn is on the line, so I’ll let you take it from here.”

Then there’s a little beep indicating that he left the call.

Michael is talking, listing his qualifications, but I’m looking at B. He gives me a sad smile, a little finger wave, and then logs off.

“So, a hostile takeover—how long will it take?” I ask Michael, trying to cut to the chase. I mean, I’m assuming it’s not really that hard to buy a company.

“Let’s talk about whether it’s even possible first.”

“What do you mean? Of course it’s possible. He’s, like, leveraged, right? And that’s bad.”

“Yes, he is. The company is ripe for a takeover, but you have to be able to make it happen.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You offer to buy his investors out. If enough people sell, then you end up with the majority of the stock, which means you control the company. That’s what you want, right?”

“Yes. Are there any other benefits?”

“Well, the obvious one would be that you vote the current Chairman of the Board out of office.”

“Is Vin, um, Mr. Sharpe the chairman?”

“Yes, he is.”

“That’s perfect. I want to do both. Buy them out and appoint someone else. What will it cost?”

“That all depends on what his stockholders want. I’m emailing you a simple document so you can follow along.” The way he says “simple” makes it sound like he thinks I don’t have a clue.

I mean, I don’t. But still, I’m not loving his attitude.

I don’t say anything, though, because I desperately need his help.

“I have the email,” I tell him, pulling the document up on my computer.

“His company isn’t publicly traded, so it’s hard to get financial information. The numbers you see are what I believe it to be worth. And, from the digging I did as a favor to Mr. Wright, I have a list of investors along with their initial investments. Those are below. Do you see them?”

“Yes.”

“The next document shows the company’s liabilities. And the next is Mr. Sharpe’s balance statement.”

I scroll through page after page of spreadsheets, trying to keep up. “Uh, huh.”

“As you can see, his asset to debt ratio is very high.”

“Okay. And why is that important?”

“That ratio refers to his liquidity. He’s borrowed money on all of his assets, meaning he won’t be able to personally fight a hostile takeover. From on-the-ground intel, he’s invested a lot of money in a single movie and is betting the farm that it’s going to be a blockbuster.”

Mom’s movie could financially ruin him?

Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?

“But, as you can see from the figures on the last page, acquiring this company will take a substantial amount of capital.”

I look at the very big number on the last page. One that would require more than my entire trust. I think about the scholarship check I just wrote.

For a second, I reconsider it.

I quickly shake my head, clearing the thought. I can’t take it back and I don’t want to.

Besides, B promised his trust to help.

I’ll be fine.

“How do you plan to raise these funds?”

“Well, I have my trust fund, and Brooklyn said we could use his for whatever I’m short.”

“That’s what I thought. Unfortunately, Brooklyn doesn’t have control of his trust, nor will his father authorize the early release of any funds. So, unless you can arrange financing, there’s nothing further to discuss.”

This is why B didn’t want to be on the call.

Freaking chicken shit.

“I can get the money,” I say quickly.

“And how is a seventeen-year-old going to do that?” he asks condescendingly.

“I don’t know exactly,” I admit quietly.

“That’s what I figured.”

I bite my tongue, thank him for his time, and hang up.

I set the phone down in my lap, feeling paralyzed, like I’m lost at sea with no land in sight.

How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to win without B’s help?

I can’t.

That means prong two of my attack is out, which blows my whole plan to smithereens.

Damnit!

He has to help me. He promised! This was his idea!

I call him.

He doesn’t answer.

I hang up and call again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I keep punching the button over and over.

By the time he finally answers, I’m pissed and crying frustrated tears.

“You should have told me yourself if you didn’t want to help me! I can’t believe you would bail on me like this! I need you!”

“This hasn’t exactly been easy on me. I’ve gotten shit from every direction for what I said about you. God, it was spur of the moment! I am grateful that you encouraged me! And I care about you. I wanted to help. My dad was willing to help, but he freaked the fuck out yesterday when he heard about the photo. Told me if I have anything to do with you it will jeopardize everything we’ve worked so hard for. My career. My future. He trashed the takeover idea. Said it was like poking the hornet’s nest. Said I can’t use my trust. So, I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. And, come on, don’t I get some credit for what I’ve already done? Michael did all sorts of research.”

“You should’ve had the guts to tell me yourself. And without your help I don’t have enough money to go through with it anyway! My plan—no, your plan—is ruined.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You just don’t get it!” I yell. And as soon as I say the words, I know they’re true. I realize that’s exactly the problem. Other than one horrible picture, B’s life hasn’t changed much. He’s not in hiding. He’s living his dream.

“What don’t I get?”

I calm down and use my bitch voice, hoping I can scare him into seeing how important this is. “Every move you make is on the internet, Brooklyn. The tour schedules. The photos. You might think you can just bow out, but you can’t. You screwed yourself when you thanked me. And that means she’s in danger too.”

“Don’t give me a guilt trip. I know you’re seeing someone too.”

“Yeah, but the difference is, I’m somewhere safe. You’re not.”

I hang up on him.

And feel very alone.

I sit in the cold stairwell staring at the floor until my phone buzzes, startling me.

Hottie God: Dallas and Riley want to take me somewhere tonight. You up for that?

Me: Uh, no. Not at all.

Hottie God: Are you tired?

Me: Yes, but I can’t sleep.

Hottie God: Then I’m coming over until you can.

Me: I’m kind of crabby.

That’s an understatement.

I roll my eyes at myself. I’ll just tell him not to come. That I’ll see him tomorrow.

Hottie God: I’ll rub your face like I did when you were sick.

Or not.

Me: I’ll be waiting.

I sneak into my room, unlock the window, and get under my covers.

A few minutes later, Aiden has his arms wrapped tightly around me, and my face is snuggled into his neck.

“You sound like you’ve been crying,” he whispers.

“Just, you know, family stuff,” I say, sort of telling him the truth.

“Tell me. Maybe I can help?”

“No one can help, Aiden,” I say pathetically.

He runs his hand over my tense neck muscles, kneading them gently.

“That feels good.”

“You’re stressed and I want to make you feel better. In the morning, I’ll be gone, but I want you to . . .”