Page 83 of The Final Draft

It’s been a week in the making and isn’t quite a grand gesture, but more like an elaboratehey, can we talkkind of thing. Bigger than a billboard in LA. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all. After a meeting at The Decker Agency, I launched the plan. I’ll never be able to repay Patrick and Team True Love for their marketing strategies and contacts. I have no idea how many favors had to be cashed it, but when we reached out for help, everyone said yes. People's extraordinary actions on Julian's behalf, their unwavering loyalty and dedication to him, speak volumes about his exceptional character.

My Google alert goes off, signalling Julian’s name is on the internet again. Cyber stalking him isn’t healthy, but I feel like my clock is ticking. This is my last thread to him. The thought alone brings a lump to my throat and a sting to my eyes, but I can't afford to wallow in my sadness. There’s work to be done.

Every photograph with Madelyn Reynolds is another punch to the gut. They’ve been spotted all over LA. She’s broken off her engagement, and one report says they’re living together. Ashleigh assures me they’re purely friends. So were we. Until we became more than friends.

With a deep breath, I click on the link. They’re both dressed casually in hoodies, baseball caps, and sunglasses. Julian has his arm around her as he ushers Madelyn into the airport. Protective. Caring. Determined. Totally Julian. The headline says they’re going on a romantic getaway. I can’t help but think of our trip to Italy. He was like this with me, too. My heart sinks. I fear my time may be up. My lip quivers, tears slip down my cheeks, and this time, I let them flow.

When Zac wakes up from his pre-game nap, I’m curled up on the couch, muttering to myself, and clutching Noodle for dear life. Noodle struggles from my grip and runs to Zac. “Hey buddy, where’s our girl?” Noodle runs back to me and whines.

“Traitor,” I mumble.

Zac stands at the end of the couch and stares at me while Noodle yaps at him, demanding to be picked up. With Noodle securely snug in his arms, they both watch me, trying to figure out what’s going on with me now.

“What are you looking at?” I snap. “Leave me alone.”

He moves with lightning speed like he’s blocking the game-winning shot and kneels beside the couch, tenderly pushing my hair away from my face and behind my ear. The tears threaten again. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

I only shake my head. I don’t want to say it out loud. My heart isn’t ready to accept defeat, but my head is saying it’s white-flag time. I’ve lost.

He takes my phone from the table and flashes it at my face to unlock it, and I cry a little harder. It’s reminiscent of the first time I bumped into Julian at NYU when he did the same thing. Zac looks at the phone and sees the website with the happy couple running away together.

“It’s not what you think. Guarantee it. Listen, go take a shower, get cleaned up, and come to my game tonight. We’re playing Boston. It’ll be a good distraction for a few hours, and you can give out Harvard’s number until your heart’s content.” I consider his offer and silently nod my head. He’s right. It’s time to move on and abandon the mission. I lost.

I sit up and take my phone from his hand to send a text to Team True Love 2.0.

Great effort, but I’m afraid it didn’t work. I appreciate each and every one of you. Julian’s lucky to have you in his corner.

Harper left the chat.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-NINE

HARPER

Zac and I arrive home and walk to our door in companionable silence. The Havoc’s loss was brutal, and he’s pissed. Understandably so.

We come to an abrupt stop when we find a person in a hoodie, their face obscured, sitting on the floor beside our door. Next to them is a pathetic, wilting bouquet, looking like it was rescued from a dumpster, its once-bright blooms now mutilated.

The mumbling sounds vaguely likeshe loves me, she loves me not, as they continue to mutilate the flowers. It’s like the nonsensical ramblings of a crazy person, and to be honest, it’s a bit frightening. Zac positions himself in front of me, with his arm extended behind him, holding me back and protecting me.

“Jesus, man, you know this isn’t a good look, right?” Zac says to him.

I try to move around Zac so I can see what’s going on. The man jumps up, and his hood falls down around his shoulders. “Home. Yes. Game. Here.” I steel myself at the sound of Julian’svoice. His string of random words makes about as much sense as him sitting in the hall looking like a deranged homeless person.

I’ve spent the day accepting defeat. Maybe he’s here to demand surrender. If I’m lucky, we can sign a peace treaty and move on.

Zac directs his attention to Julian, then gives me a quick glance, checking to see if I’m okay. I’m in shock, but he must decide I’m not in danger. “Look, I’m not leaving. We’ve both had a pretty shitty day. But I’ll give you some privacy.” Zac unlocks the door and turns to look at me. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Then he puts his hand on Julian’s shoulder, and they lock eyes. “For a moment, you made me believe love was real.” He shakes his head in disappointment and enters the apartment, leaving the door ajar.

Julian and I stand in the hallway in awkward silence. His eyes take me in from head to toe. I’m dressed in Zac’s jersey and a pair of jeans, my hair in a messy bun. No makeup. Nothing fancy. But the way he’s looking at me? It’s unsettling. Compared to the flawless Hollywood women he’s been hanging out with, I’m painfully aware of his critical gaze.

Of course, I do the same to him. He’s a mess in a hoodie and jeans, his usual put-together look nowhere to be found. He’s a long way from the red carpets he’s been rocking lately. His hair looks like he’s run his hands through it so many times it doesn’t know which way to go. There’s even a flower petal or two caught in his curls. But when I lock onto his blue eyes, they look sad and weary. I get it. Me too.

My heart wants to lash out, but my head says, what’s the point? When I speak, it’s flat. Distant.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on some romantic getaway?”

He seems genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

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