Page 33 of I Despise You
I open the online private student group so I can find the latest news or try to lose myself in the chitchat and rants that students tend to post, no matter how impossible that seems.
But then my eyes fall on an ad on the left side of the page.
I know you want my D.
Find the red sticker on the door.
Multiple O’s guaranteed.
Girls only.
CC.
I blink, thinking that my mind is messing with me, but the ad stays right where it was the first time I saw it. It was posted yesterday, and I’m pretty sure it’s Chase’s.
Why? How?
Is this his defense plan? Did he put up that ad to insinuate that I came to him? It would definitely be an excuse enough for any bribed judges to rule in his favor. If he’d even need it, considering who his father is and how rich he is.
I’d be branded as a slut who wants to get her hands on the rich guy’s money. I just know it. That’s what everyone would think, except maybe for those who know that Chase isn’t so nice and sweet as he pretends to be.
But probably even them would doubt that I didn’t want to sleep with him, or say that it was my own fault for going to him when I know well what he’s like. It would be an absolutely shitty argument, but no one would care.
I click on the ad and find there’s more.
He’s been posting those once in a while.
I frown at the screen of my phone.
What if he doesn’t know?
What if he thought that I really came to him because of the ad? Has someone set him up? Or set me up? What were they thinking would happen?
Brittany.
She has to know the truth. Suddenly, nothing matters anymore. I just need to know. Hopping out of bed, I quickly grab some clothes. Once I’m dressed, I hurry out to find Brittany.
I see red when I finally spot her.
“Hey!” I shout, striding toward her, my eyes narrowed.
She’s smiling.
That fucking bitch is smiling.
I shove her back until she collides with the wall. “What the fuck?” I yell, not caring who may hear us.
“Go ahead,” she says. “Hit me. It’s what you want to do, isn’t it?”
My fingers curl into fists, but I’m not going to do what she wants.
I’m not a monster. She is.
“Why?” My voice isn’t as strong and steady as I want it to be.
Her face turns serious, and it looks like she’s trying to stop herself from saying something because her lip is trembling slightly, but she opens her mouth anyway. “Your whore of a mother is fucking my dad so you can go to school here!”
I blanch, stepping away from her as if she slapped me.
