Page 89 of Subscriber Wars

“Fine. I just want you both to know that if I end up in a holding cell, someone will have to give a heartfelt speech—with tears—to Mom. She will kick my ass if I miss another game from another friendly brawl.”

I cringe. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

“Shut up, Fenn. If you weren’t getting suspended every other Tuesday, this wouldn’t be an issue. Stop making excuses for your behavior.”

Aspen has never been gentle with her brother, but then again, Fenn is never gentle with any of us.

“We got you, Vee. Let’s do this.” I lay my head against Drew’s chest. His words are reassuring and strong, implying that, together, we can take on the world.

“Okay,” I say, exhaling a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

The quad is the most populated area at Havemeyer. It also happens to be Malcolm’s favorite hangout. Here, he can scam and con his nasty little heart out. If shit is about to go down, it goes down at the quad. It’s the place you can get a diet soda with a side of extra dirty drama.

I feel my steps slow as I reach the center of the green space. Surrounded by big oak trees and shaded picnic tables, I scan the area for The Wicked Bitch of the West.

“Did you call in your marker?” I ask, turning to face Aspen. Apparently, Maverick, Sebastian’s best friend, owed her a favor. She really didn’t need anything from him, but since Maverick is all about that favor life, she enjoyed fucking with him by beating the master at his own game.

“I did,” she grins, seemingly pleased she wiggled a favor out of Maverick. “He said he would be here, and Maverick always pays his debts.”

Good. I don’t know a whole lot about Maverick Lexington and his favors, but I do know Aspen, and if she says he will have Sebastian here, then he’ll be here.

“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and scanning the crowd. As usual, Malcolm is sitting on his throne, aka, a wooden picnic table with his troop of jesters entertaining him with, what is very likely, promises of fame since Sebastian and I haven’t posted another video. The traitor and subpar cameraman, Brick, is also standing next to him with his hands in his pockets and a scowl that will soon be a frown when I get through with him.

Bro thinks he has this in the bag. Bro don’t know shit.

Sebastian and I have a much bigger secret than just being a fake couple: before we were a fake couple, we were true friends under fake pretenses.

And I’m about to expose our secret scandal.

I’m about to lose my reputation at Havemeyer in the process, but, hopefully, our fans will take this spin on the real story and see it for what it truly is.

Love.

Apparently, I have always been willing to do whatever it takes to get Sebastian Carrington, whether that be to score a point on his competitive ass or to make a complete fool of myself, so he can win this competition and move far away from me. But no matter my intentions, my love for him has always been there, buried underneath excuses, pranks, and fake dates.

I loved him the first time my lips touched his and now…

My stomach knots.

And now, I’ll love him even when he leaves for California, after winning his half of the prize money. There is no doubt we will win this competition. Our secret is what movies are made of.

“I need my camera,” I say to Aspen, nodding my head to myself.

This is it. I’m doing it. I’m doing this insane stunt, so my asshole amigo, the bro to my bromance, and my own personal neighborhood demon can win this competition.

“Here you go.” She sets the camera in my palm. “Just set it up and tell me what button to push, and I’ll capture everything.”

Somehow, her words aren’t reassuring.

It takes me a minute, fumbling around with the settings, until I get them just right. “When I walk away, push this button.” I point to the one with the red dot in the middle—the one that will end me for the next three years. “Don’t stop until I come back.”

This all feels so death sentence-y. But I guess if I’m walking the green mile down dicks and divas’ alley, I might as well go out as the superstar I am.

“Got it,” Aspen says, her tone perking up quite a bit in the last few minutes. “There’s Maverick with Sebastian.” She points to a table where Maverick is getting food settled for Ainsley.

“He looks so sad,” notes Aspen.

I nod. “He won’t for long.”

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