18. Jasper Ridge

18

Jasper Ridge

S omething was wrong . I could feel it in my bones.

Bitter breezes and thin winds kissed my bare arms until goosebumps rose to meet them. I turned onto my side, the large couch in Jakson’s house groaning as I moved. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the devil himself sprawled on the floor at the edge of the couch I could’ve sworn he was sleeping on a few hours before. Brown hair caught my attention as my eyes snapped open to see Lia curled against Jakson’s chest, his arm draped over her body protectively. A groan left my lips as my head fell backwards against the couch. Pounding, I massaged my temple, urging the ache to go away.

Memories of last night came back to me in pieces. Lia opening the door, kidnapping her siblings, the conversation with Belle, playing dress up with the twins, watching their beauty and the beast performance, the look in Lucas’s eyes when I snapped…I shuddered. He was fucking four . I couldn’t get those sad and terrified eyes out of my head. They burned through my chest straight to my heart.

Then Lia…she apologized —she apologized for being a burden to us both. The thought made me want to punch the shit out of her stuck-up parents. How they could make her feel so worthless and devalued was beyond fucking me. They wouldn’t even know because they never spent any time with her that wasn’t punishing her for fucking breathing. She, like all her siblings, had those big, sad, doe-like blue eyes—the ones that looked like stars in the midnight blue sky above the ocean.

My little ocean, where did you go?

Lia defended her mother. Anytime either of us brought up that she was just as guilty for making her feel this…she defended her. At first, I thought it was because she felt sorry for her, but now? I wasn’t so sure. If you even attempted to speak to her about it, she’d just clam up tightly and fold into herself. It was saddening to watch because she was a fucking star that you just couldn’t help but notice. Lia may think she was just a wallflower, a background character, but she was so much more… she just needed to be shown that she could be more.

Fragments of the rest of the night came piling back to me—of the movies we watched, Jakson throwing popcorn at us both for voting against him, Lia laughing and smiling—the mere possibility of that happening today was already so slim. I had to go down to the surf school today for Pepe’s lesson, and no , I didn’t give him extra lessons because he was Daniel and Isa’s kid, but simply because he was actually really fucking good. He had his father’s talent, and I had no doubt he’d make his last name his own. But maybe after the lesson, maybe I could go to the shops and get as many fucking ingredients that I could so Lia could bake herself into oblivion, and maybe, just maybe , Jakson and I would get to see her smile again.

Lia was so happy when she baked, it was like she was in her own little world where no one else existed apart from the oven. Each time she baked, Jakson and I sat on the kitchen island watching her hungrily in awe. Sometimes, she’d talk to herself like she was on one of those baking shows .

Actually, a few times me and Jakson did pretend to be on one of those shows with her. It was like our own version of that British Bake Off show—we did fake accents and everything, giving Lia three different desserts to make. The caramel sponge cake was Jakson’s idea, even though we both knew he hated that flavor. Only until Lia took a bite and for his eyes to light up, did I realize he only suggested it because he wanted her to eat something that day. How he knew she hadn’t was unnerving.

I had missed it, but he hadn’t.

Sometimes, it was little things like that which had me thinking if I even knew my best friend at all. All through high school, he supposedly fucked every girl with a pulse. Rumors spread like wildfire. In junior year, the girls in our grade made it into a game who could get him into bed faster. When Jakson found out they only wanted him for the sake of bragging rights, he led them all on for months until one day, he was so drunk in a bar after we both lost in one of our comps that he completely forgot about the bet and fucked not only one of them, but three . At least, that was what was whispered through the halls the next day. Jakson wouldn’t say a word about that nigh to anyone, not even me.

After that, he just stopped . Living, smiling, jesting—stopped everything . That month, it was like he was a ghost of the golden boy he once was. The worst thing was that I didn’t even know why, he wouldn’t talk about it. But he’d always been a little dismissive like that—so easily switching the conversation away from himself, making you forget you even asked him anything about himself in the first place. He used to joke that it was his superpower, and girls seem to love that he listened and focused on them instead of himself. His charm was self-destructive, and he knew it.

I wondered if that was all she was to him—a conquest . Something to be won. Sighing, I shook my head free of that thought as I looked over to where they both still slept, tangled in each other’s embrace, their bodies fitting together like a final piece in a puzzle. They completed each other. I just wondered if they knew that too. Maybe they’d deny it. Hell , maybe both my best friends were secretly dating, and I was a clueless idiot.

My thoughts trailed off to the one girl who I couldn’t seem to get out of my head. My Wellsy had my entire fucking soul in a twist around her little finger. I didn’t know what I wanted from her, or if I even wanted something at all. All I knew was we were now co-workers at the surf school, and for some reason, I didn’t know how to feel about that.

Maybe it was just attraction. Yeah, okay, I guess I was attracted to her but that didn’t mean I had to do anything about it. I hated her, despised her even. She was Poppy Wells. The girl who hated my guts just as much as I hated her…but she was also just Wellsy .

Fuck , maybe Lachlan was right. Maybe I did seriously need to get laid. Speaking of Lachlan the devil, I got spammed with selfies of them all crashing one of the hockey teams post-game celebrations and stealing all their puck bunnies. I even got sent one of Xander sucking vodka off one of their bare chests and Lachlan chanting obnoxiously loudly in the background. I chuckled, shooting them all a message in the group chat.

Training tomorrow. If you turn up drunk or with a hangover, it’s an extra hour cleaning the equipment.

SEXY DEVIL:

Come onnnnnn that’s so fucking stupid!

Who the fuck is sexy devil??

SEXY DEVIL:

The best fucking person on this planet ;)

WANNA-BE SHAKESPEARE:

Lachlan got dared to change all your contact info, Cap.

SEXY DEVIL:

Mali, you dirty snitch .

WANNA-BE SHAKESPEARE:

I’m not offended by that. At all, actually.

SEXY DEVIL:

You’re never offended. By anything. It’s annoying.

WANNA-BE SHAKESPEARE:

;)

HELL’S PRINCE:

You named yourself Sexy Devil? That is so unoriginal Lach. None of these are creative. Better hope your song writing isn’t as shit as your nickname game. Tho, it would explain why no one wants to listen to you play.

Hell’s Prince ? Xan, is that you? You know what, I don’t even care. You guys are so weird.

SEXY DEVIL:

Nah, c’mon, Cap, we all know Jakson is weirder.

No one disagreed.

Sighing, I put my phone back into my pocket. I debated for a good twenty minutes about throwing a pillow at Jakson’s face but in the end, I settled for a constant nudging of my foot against his shoulder blade until he woke up, careful not to wake up Lia as well.

“Cap, what the fuck man!” he groaned, running his hand across his face. Shooing me away, he turned over onto his side, pulling his phone out from his pocket. A message on the group chat came through soon after .

LITTLE SUNSHINE:

Well, that hurt my feelings :(

I chuckled, walking over to the kitchen. “I’ve got a session with Pepe in an hour, and I was thinking about getting some ingredients for sleepy head there on my way back. Maybe convince her to bake something, you know?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, pocketing his phone and looking down at the fragile girl fast asleep in his lap. “I know.”

I looked at him. “What are you going to do?”

He shrugged like this was the most casual affair in the world. “I’ll let them stay until they have to go. I’d fucking keep them all here if I could but… yeah .”

I barely nodded before turning back to the fridge. “Yeah.”

As soon as Lia woke up, she’d try to leave, even if the last place she wanted to go was back home. She didn’t want to be a burden and would convince herself she was until Jakson let her go. I could already see it playing out in my head.

After I finished eating and loaded my plate into the dishwasher, I headed upstairs to shower and get dressed. As I walked up the stairs, I could hear the faintest hush of whispers. The closer I got to the kids’ room, the louder the voices became. Stopping straight outside, I peered in and what I saw made my heart shatter.

Belle and the twins had made a little fort with the pillows and covers, and I could hear her whispering to the twins about a story she’d made up. Smiling to myself, I closed the door quietly behind me and walked down the hall into my room.

I showered and threw a towel around my waist, throwing on a pair of black swim shorts and one of my gray compression tops. Heading downstairs, I grabbed one of the smoothies from the fridge that Jakson likes to have on standby and said goodbye as I walked out the door.

As I walked past my house on the way back, guilt churned in my stomach, bile painting the back of my throat. My mom’s car was already gone. It was my fault she could barely make it two steps into the house without collapsing from exhaustion from being on her feet at work all day and night. Even though our relationship was good, like all mother and son’s, we did argue here and there. Mostly about finances. I promised her I could pay for my own surf equipment and everything else but she had convinced herself that she needed to do it. Everyone in this town made her feel shit about herself for being a single mom, but they could all go to hell because she’d sacrificed everything for me and there wouldn’t be a day where I wouldn’t let her know how grateful I was.

As I made my way up to the surf school, my thoughts trailed to Daniel. The guy was like a father to me. Him and his wife, Isa, had moved here from Chile a few years ago after his surfing accident left him with a fucked spine and hips, meaning that surfing was out of the question for him now.

Isa used to tell me how miserable he was without surfing, about how he used to pretend that he was okay for her but she knew him better, so together, they started a surf school so that he could still be close to the waves without being on a board. Their story captivated me, and some days, more often than I cared to admit, I wondered why they had taken me under their wing. Out of pity? The very thought made me nauseous, anger churning in my stomach.

There had always been this hole in my life, a gap that could’ve only been filled by a father’s love for his son. When you were absent from that, it felt like the entire world was your battleground. I taught myself everything: how to shave, how to take care of my body, how to take care of my mind . Even though I felt proud that I didn’t need help from anyone, especially a father to do so, deep down, I always felt like I was missing something. Like you could look at me and immediately tell I had an absent father. Fuck . I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a tag line over my head like a fucking Sims character.

There was a special, isolated space in the universe for children who had grown up without feeling the love of a parent. A place where silence allowed you to detect the precise sound of footsteps and the bloodshot eyes of another. You could earn the pitiful glances, the sad smiles, the small nods, but in the end, you will never fill that hole, no matter how many times you try to.

“Jassy!” a young voice yelled before I felt a huge force collide with my legs. Pushing my hands against the table to stabilize myself, I looked down at the boy hugging my legs and grinned.

“ Hola , Pepe,” I smiled as I knelt down, ruffling his hair with my fingers.

“ Me puse de pie en mi tabla, Jassy. Lo hice tal como dijiste !” he rambled, grasping my hand and attempting to pull me to my feet.

I stood up on my board, Jassy . I did it just like you said.

“You did? Estoy tan orgulloso de ti chico !” I’m so proud of you kid.

He grinned widely up at me, his soft brown curls falling over his forehead. If you looked closely, you could see the small mole above his left brow, identical to his mother, and those bright green eyes, just like his father.

“That’s right,” Daniel announced as he walked into the room, his very pregnant wife following in behind him, “our boy is going to smoke all those kids next week, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am!” he smiled proudly up at his father.

“Language, mi amor ,” Isa warned, glancing between her husband and her son. It was that moment I realized I had never felt like my family, well, what was left of it, would ever be like theirs. A love so intangible, it surpassed every law of physics known to man. You could see it in their eyes, the adoration, the worry, the love . Pepe looked so much like his parents, and it made me happy for him that he had such a supportive family.

“? Vamos! ,” he yelled, tugging me towards the backdoor, “I want to show you!”

I sent a quick glance to them both, a silent question. Our lessons didn’t start for another twenty minutes, give or take, but there was no harm in starting early.

When both his parents nodded, I had my answer.

Throwing him up onto my shoulders, the sound of his laughter a cure to every sour thought, I slid open the door and walked over down the sandy wooden planks that made up the small balcony that overlooked the ocean.

Climbing down my back, small bare feet pressing into the sand, I watched as he ran over to where his small board was perched against the wooden beams. The smile tugging at his lips was a reward I didn’t even deserve to have.

Nodding to his questioning eyes, he picked up his board and walked over to me, throwing his small green t-shirt over the stair rail.

“Are you not coming out?” he asked, an unmissable accent striking every word. It was the most adorable thing I had ever had the blessing of witnessing .

Rage grew like clenched fists as I remembered that day when I had come over to collect my new schedule and I saw him curled up at the foot of his bed, cheeks stained with floods of tears. After a lot of chocolate and a lot of Marvel movies, I managed to glean that some kids at school had been picking on him, calling him names just because he was different. It had taken everything inside me to not go over there the next day and show those kids a lesson, but I knew, in the end, it wouldn’t solve anything.

So instead, I pulled out some of the old photo albums Isa had shown me a few years ago and together we looked at all of them whilst stuffing popcorn into our faces. I wanted him to see just how beautiful his culture, his accent, his home was. That all of their words stemmed from a jealous, insecure place. And most importantly, that none of it was his fault—that he had done nothing to deserve their cruel words, and he was not in any way faulty, broken, worthless .

I even learnt Spanish for him so that he could see that if people cared about him enough, they would go out of their way to do something like that for him. I didn’t want him to have to grow up and put himself second to everyone else just because they looked at him like he was different. I lived a life of putting myself second to everyone else and I’d be damned if I let him do that too.

Droplets of water splashing against my face drew me from my thoughts. I watched on proudly as Pepe paddled out, exactly like I had taught him, and caught a small wave back to the shore, standing up and all. As soon as he pushed up from his board and walked up onto the shore, I threw my arms around him, spinning him around as I hugged him tightly.

“ Estoy muy orgulloso de ti, chico. Tan increíblemente orgulloso .”

I am so proud of you, kid. So unbelievably proud.

Laughter serenaded us, even after I had let him back down. The smile evident on his face was so bright and beaming it made my heart ache because I knew exactly what the world did to people who bore such smiles.

Smiling, he raced back to his board, yelling at me over the sound of crashing waves. Watching him proudly, I cheered and celebrated every small victory, and when he failed to stand up and got pulled over by the water’s wrath, I cupped his reddened cheeks and said, “you are so brave, Josep Maria Gonzales, so incredibly brave. Those waves do not control you and you do not control them. Feel them beneath you and work with them, not against them. They will help you, only if you let them. Now, get out there and show me how we Gonzales men do it.”

With a wide smile and a brush of a hand across his teary eyes, he nodded once before picking up his board and padding back out into the water. I could immediately see the change in him—the calmness that washed over him, blanketing his fears. Each stroke of his arm in the water, each kick of his legs that sent droplets flying behind him. And then,

it

all

stopped .

“Pepe?” I called out.

No response. Not even a hint of recognition as if time itself had paused. My fingers began to tremor by my side, fear eroding each nerve. I gulped down a breath, but my throat was suddenly so dry that it felt like I was swallowing needles. My legs began to move without instruction and only when a coldness washed over my skin, did I realize I was already knee-deep in the salty water. Diving under, welcoming the waves, I swam over to where Pepe was clinging to his board, eyes fixated in front of him. I rested my arms across the board, before lifting one to wipe the drenched curls from his eyes.

“Pepe?” I repeated again, and this time, only a small blink greeted my words. Confusion knitting my brow, I turned to follow his gaze out into the vast blue.

And that was when I saw it.

Not it. Someone . Face down in the water, unmoving. Body cradled by the waves, enveloped in a tranquility of blue.

“ Fuck !” I swore before hurriedly turning to Pepe, his big green eyes frozen, fixated on the small, frail frame being washed out to sea. “Stay on board, do not look back. When you reach the shore, I need you to sit down on the sand and face the house, okay?”

A quick nod of his head was all I needed before pushing his board back to shore, letting the waves carry him home for me. Without so much as a second glance, I swam, my arms digging ferociously into the water, pushing it aside as I stretched to reach the floating body.

Brown hair .

Each kick of my legs sent the waves trembling.

Curls that fell down her back.

Ivy green eyes.

Small, broken smile.

Black and white wetsuit.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

“ POPPY !” The scream tore its way up my throat, as my fingertips brushed against her cold, pale skin. Only her cold, unmoving body greeted me.

“ No, no, no ,” I rambled, scanning her pale face before brushing a mangled strand of stowaway hair away from her face. Fuck . Turning onto my back, I angled her body on top of mine, so her face wasn’t under the waves, and hooked one of my arms under hers and across her chest. Tugging her tightly to me, I waited for the next wave to come before I let it catch my body and give me a helping hand back to shore. She weighed practically nothing in my arms as I swam back.

When I could feel the sand bank beneath my feet, I stood up and swooped her body up into my arms. Racing back to the shore, I collapsed on the sand as soon as I reached it.

“Poppy?” I rested my fingers against her neck, feeling her faint pulse under my fingers. It was barely there, but it was better than nothing. Fuck, fuck, fuck . What was it Meredith Grey said? You’re not dead until you’re warm dead . Well, Poppy wasn’t warm dead yet. She wasn’t dead at all.

Fuck . She was going to kill me for this.

I didn’t hesitate a single second before crashing my lips to hers, breathing air into her lungs. I kept two of my fingers on her pulse as I kept trying to bring her back to consciousness. Fuck . What was she doing out there like that? How long had she been out there— no . I wouldn’t think about that. I couldn’t .

I saw her on the beach last night. She was fine —she was breathing and alive and now…she was limp in my arms almost dead. Fuck . My throat constricted and I remembered to breathe myself. Realizing Pepe was still on the beach, turned away from me with his hands over his ears, I called out to him.

“Hey Pepe, we’re going to play a game, okay?” I rasped. “You go back to the house as fast as you can, I’ll time you, and if you can get your dad to come down here in under one minute, I’ll get you that snow cone you love from Sunny’s. Deal?”

He looked at me before nodding slowly, his eyes lingering on Poppy’s frail body in my arms.

“Hey, look at me.”

Slowly lifting his eyes to meet mine, I saw the fear that lingered there. I had to take his mind off this. I didn’t want it to create a mental block for him. “Are you ready?”

He jumped up to his feet.

“Ready…set…g—”

Before I could say the word go , Poppy coughed up a bunch of salt water onto my shirt. Relief burst through me and I had the urge to hug her with every fucking fiber in my body.

“ No —no hospitals. No one.” She rasped between gasped breaths.

I ignored her. “ Go Pepe.”

Weakly, she slapped my cheek and scrambled out of my arms. She tried to stand but ended up falling back down onto her knees.

“You nearly fucking died Poppy—”

She interrupted me, plunging straight into defensive mode. “But I didn’t . I didn’t fucking die, okay? I know you wish I did but I didn’t. Hooray!” she exclaimed, forcing a smile onto her lips which ended up looking more like a scowl. She barely had the energy to fucking smile .

“But you could have! Don’t you get that? Are you seriously that fucked up, Poppy?”

“Yes!” she yelled, flinging her hands in anger. “I am that fucked up. I am fucking broken , Jasper. I am broken.”

I couldn’t breathe. I was broken.

“You aren’t—”

“I am.” She breathed a weak laugh and shook her head. “I am,” she whispered, voice breaking. She drew in a breath, steadying herself. “I can’t—I don’t want to be this version of me anymore, Jasper. I can’t live this life where the entire world had abandoned me. I can’t do it anymore. I’m tired , Jasper. So fucking tired.”

Her confession stuck me like a knife to the heart. I had no idea where it came from. Maybe she was just too exhausted to care right now, but I felt something tighten in my chest. She trusted me with those words, despite herself.

“There is no version of you that does not deserve to be loved, you hear me?” I said straightly, not even hesitating to say those words because they were fucking true. In every way. “You are not fucking broken, Poppy. If you saw yourself through my eyes, you’d understand how fucking amazing you are. You are the only who knows how to make me so riled up by just a simple glance,” I laughed, but the sound came out strained.

Poppy shook her head at my words, dismissing them. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. I wanted to know what was going through her head right now. I knew nothing past the act she put on with me and I’d never cared enough to look deeper, but now? Now I wanted to know every fucking thing about her—what she liked, what her favorite fucking flower was. Her birthday, her favorite season, her stupid coffee order or cupcake flavor. Anything. Everything , if it meant that she’d look at me like I was more than just a favor to be asked.

All those years, I’d let her spar with me during our surfing competitions because I knew she needed it. I didn’t know how, I just… knew . And I needed it, too—needed something real for once in my life. I desperately needed my scores to go up and she was the only missing part from my life. It had to be her, it just had to.

“Look at me,” I demanded. “Dammit, Poppy, look at me.”

She did and I could see in her eyes that she truly believed she was broken. I didn’t know what she needed right now. Did she need me to be mean? To fall back into the comfortable waters we both knew all too well. Did she want to be comforted? I had no fucking clue.

“Did you do it on purpose?” I rasped.

She stared at me for a full minute before shaking her head slightly. “I didn’t— no .”

“But you didn’t fight it?” Fight the waves to stay alive.

She nodded. Once. That was all the answer I needed for my chest to calve in two. She didn’t fight it—she didn’t fight to live . I had no idea she felt like that; felt like she was so alone that not being here anymore was easier than staying here. How many times at comps or heats had I seen her with a smile on her face with her dad and been so fucking jealous that she had one to support her when I had no one?

My mom…she would come if she could, I knew that, but I’d feel even more guilty if I put that pressure on her. I demanded nothing of her and I watched as she slaved away, withering in this life. I was so tempted to reach out to her parents, anyone , if it meant relieving her of this financial burden. It still, even now, blew my mind that she was a genuine Italian mafia princess who could’ve had the world and more at her fingertips, yet she walked away from that life and I had no idea why.

I wanted to ask her why , I wanted to ask her a thousand questions, but I knew she wouldn’t answer them. Now wasn’t the time. It was never the time .

I cleared my throat. “Why didn’t you go out in the water last night? You stood at the edge like you…like you were afraid of it.”

She looked at me, her expression blank, not giving away anything.

“How do you know that?” her voice was quiet. Too quiet .

“I saw you.” I admitted.

She hesitated. “I…I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Jasper. You found me, so let’s just go back to hating each other’s guts, okay? I’m only here for the next two years and then I’ll leave again, and you can have your town back. This was nothing so just forget it. Please .”

“Nothing?” My brows creased. “This is not nothing.”

And I didn’t want you to go. Yes, I did . No… I didn’t.

She shook her head. “It is. So, forget it. Forget me .”

“I can’t,” I rasped. “You aren’t something that is forgettable, Poppy.”

“Everyone else has no problem doing just that,” she laughed.

“I’m not everyone else.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed. “I’m not doing this with you. Just stop it. Stop all of it. You saved me again, happy now? Want to brag about it tomorrow? Tell everyone at school what a freak I am?”

I gaped at her. Fuck . was that what she thought of me?

“You think I would do that?”

Her lips shut tightly. She said nothing and I had my answer.

“I can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to think otherwise. ”

Wow . I guess she was right about that, though. I hadn’t exactly been the friendliest to her, but to be fair, she hadn’t been to me either. Two wrongs make a green flag, right?

“Jasper…you don’t know anything so just stop trying too.”

Stop trying, Jasper. You’ll never be good enough. Stop trying.

I couldn’t—I physically couldn’t stop trying. I was exhausted, but I could not stop. Everyone demanded something of me, whether it be my teammates trusting me to get us to the finals, so they had a shot at getting sponsors, scoring scholarships, and going Pro. To my teachers who demand every inch of sweat out of me over these exams. There was no excuse for bad grades, and they knew I wouldn’t pull the surf card so they started expecting more of me. Every bone in my body ached. Constantly . Every single fucking minute of the day.

My students relied on me to teach them skills that could save their lives one day, and their parents trusted me enough with their children in hopes that I could keep them all alive long enough to see middle school. My mom relied on me to help her around the house and keep myself afloat.

“So, tell me . Tell me everything so I understand.”

“What if I don’t want you to understand?”

“Lying to yourself isn’t good for your health, Wellsy.”

She laughed, barely, but still laughed. I took the small victory and tucked it away in my heart. I wanted to tell her that I only snapped at her on the beach because I was afraid of what she’d think of me. She was the only person who didn’t look at me like an object, didn’t look at me just for the sake of needing something from me.

I snapped at her at the surf school because those kids were like my family and seeing her there threw me off guard. Especially when Pepe was involved. I didn’t really mean to, it wasn’t me, but she just knew how to get under my skin. It was a fucking talent of hers, I swear.

“You stopped surfing then?” I asked, changing the subject. Concern lined the dark ridges of my eyes.

She offered me a small nod. Salty tears of the ocean trickled down her chest, her hair tightly wound in knots from the harsh waves. I stayed quiet for a while, looking at her. Contemplating what to say in my head. Her eyes narrowed, assessing me. She opened her mouth to say something, but I spoke before she had a chance too.

I was going to regret this, but I had to show her that she wasn’t broken—that she was worth more than she thought she was. She didn’t need fixing, she just needed to be shown that there were pockets of light in the darkness. To see that she wasn’t and never would be alone. Not anymore. She might fear it could change everything, but I had no plans to put an end to our thing. If it worked, I’d be able to get my head out of my ass and start getting my scores back up, and she’d be able to get through her final two years without being harassed and hopefully see herself like she was worth more than what she gave herself credit for.

“I propose a bet.”