Page 104 of I Blame the Rival

SKYLAR: You’re welcome.

My cheeks are aching from the strength of my smile by the time I put my phone away.

I was worried Karen would have a problem with two of her patients seeing each other, but she seemed to think we had both showed significant improvement over the last few weeks.

At the thought of Skylar, a new mission comes to mind. Studying the row of succulents in front of me, I start looking for one that would fit his life. A compatible plant baby doesn’t just look pretty, it needs to have a sunlight consumption and water schedule that matches your lifestyle.

By the time I find the perfect one, Trip has her arms full of plant accessories that have nothing to do with the cactus in her hand.

“I think I like the pots more than the plants. Is that weird?”

I laugh, “Not at all. They help brighten your room.”

She sighs, “Stella is going to have a field day with this.”

Trip catches sight of the succulent I picked out for Skylar and does a double take, “Are you getting that one? I think it might be dead.”

I stroke the pale leaves gently, “Not all of them are green. You just have to know how to take care of it properly so it keeps its unique colour.”

“Right.” Trip blinks, looking completely lost, “Is there anything else you want to look at before we go?”

The bell rings above the door, announcing a new arrival.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind going upstairs to see…”

My words die off and Skylar’s succulent drops to the floor. The plastic pot breaks on impact and soil splatters all over myleggings. Trip gasps, quickly abandoning her pile of painted pots to clean up the mess I just made.

“Oh no! Okay, let’s sweep everything up and I’m sure the plant will be just fine… Lacey?”

She stands back up, holding the damaged plant, but I don’t answer her. I can feel the blood draining from my face, the sudden surge of nausea making me think I might be sick right here in this adorable plant shop.

“Lacey Williams. What the hell are you doing in Silverwood?”

The familiar voice slices through me and my body starts to tremble.

“J-J-J…” I gasp, feeling the panic flood my body. Trip shoots me a concerned look before turning to address the newcomer.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. Who are you?”

The guy grins, the same flashy grin he used back when we were dating, “Jerrell Thompson. Lacey and I go way back.”

My whole body is shaking as I stare at his face, that stupid face that humiliated me time and time again until finally I graduated and moved schools.

I was never supposed to see him again.

I never wanted to see him again.

“W-What are you doing here?”

Jerrell shrugs, drawing my attention to the Silverwood mascot engraved on the strap of his backpack, “Got sick of living with the parents, so I transferred schools. You know how it is.”

I don’tknow how it is.

The response dies in my throat as his eyes flick down my body. His boyish good looks are parallel to the fictional characters I read about: the brown hair, bright blue eyes and well-kept body of an athlete was enough to fool me into thinking he was a boy with good intentions.

Jerrell always had intentions, but they were never good.

“I didn’t expect to see a familiar face so soon.” He grins and it makes me want to throw up right on his polished shoes, “Although I would have thought you grew out of the leggings and sweater stage by now. Aren’t you taking business in university?”

---