Her smile wavered for a second. “I… it’s not about that.”
He snorted. “You’re so fucking transparent.”
As they verbally sparred, Hunter calmly wrote out another check and took a step closer to me, shielding it from Trina’s grasp with one arm. “Come on, Laney,” he said, voice dangerously low. “I know how much you want this. Just take it.”
I swallowed the painful lump in my throat. He was right. I did want it, even if it was from him. Even if taking it was the most demeaning, mortifying thing I could imagine right now.
I just couldn’t stop picturing everything that money could do to make my mom’s life easier, and I couldn’t stop picturing the crestfallen look that would appear on her face if she ever heard about this and realized I turned down such a life-changing amount of money out of some absurd sense of pride.
Besides, these assholes had already humiliated me beyond belief. What was one more humiliation on top of that?
I reached for the check.
I half-expected Hunter to yank it back, way out of my reach, but he let me take it, lips curving into a sneer.
“That’s the difference between you and Trina, Laney,” he said softly. “You’ll always take the money, because you can’t resist it. You know what a difference it could make to your pathetic little life. You don’t get to think in terms of morals and ethics. You just see an out. A way to pay all those late bills. A way to fuel your rustbucket car. A way to put food on your mom’s table.”
Tears streamed down my face. He was right about me. I would always take the money, because it actually meant something real to me. It was the difference between getting a full night’s rest and sleepless nights of tossing and turning, stressing about mom being able to pay the rent on time. Worrying if we’d even have somewhere to live next month if she couldn’t scrape it together.
None of these privileged kids would ever understand that struggle. None of them would ever know what it was like to claw and scratch and kick their way out of the jaws of poverty. Everything was handed to them their whole lives… and it wasn’t just money. It was opportunity, safety, freedom.
That was what I really wanted in the end. Freedom from fear.
Trina ripped the check out of my hand and tore it up again. “If you’re really that desperate for money, I’ll give it to you,” she whispered, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t give in to these assholes. Don’t let them win.”
Adam moved closer to us, hands clenched into fists by his side. “You’ve taken this way too far, Hunter,” he said, voice laced with cold fury. “Imagine if Lindsay was still here. Imagine what she’d think, seeing you do this to an innocent girl.”
Hunter’s eyes narrowed, and for a second it looked like he might actually lunge at his brother. Instead he drew in a deep breath and squared his jaw.
“Keep hanging out with her and you’ll regret it,” he said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Is that a threat?” Adam asked.
Hunter turned to look at me again. “She’s the one you should be worried about. Not me.”
Talia stepped closer, eyes glittering and face flushed with excitement. “You know, Laney, everyone’s been calling you a trashy slut, but I actually disagree. I mean, you are trashy, but calling you a slut implies that anyone would ever want to fuck you. And clearly, they don’t. What kind of guy would want any of this?” She waved one hand up and down, gesturing to my body. “I bet you’re still a sad little virgin.”
A chant rose from the attentive crowd. “Virgin! Virgin! Virgin!”
I guess that was my new nickname. ‘Carrie’ and ‘Trash’ were out.
“Come on, Laney.” Trina tugged on my arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
My legs felt like jelly, and I could barely bring myself to move. Trina and Adam helped me off the stage and through the ballroom, past the jeering throngs of RFA students and into the spacious atrium outside.
By now, tears were splashing down my face and my chest felt like someone had put a giant rubber band around it.
“I can’t go back to school,” I choked out. My trembling hands furiously wiped at my cheeks, only to be flooded with more tears.
“Breathe, Laney,” Trina instructed, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Just breathe.”
“I can’t do this. I…. I don’t….” My voice broke, and I stopped midsentence.
“I’m so sorry,” Adam murmured, soothingly rubbing my back. “This is our fault. You thought this was a setup from the very start, but we convinced you it was fine.”
Trina pulled away from the hug, eyes shimmering with tears. “He’s right,” she said. “We basically let this happen.”
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault,” I said. “You just fell for their lies. Same as me.”