Page 7 of My Grumpy Sweetheart
I wouldn’t comment on that. I couldn’t discuss this now or I’d just start shouting again, and I didn’t want that. It wasn’t like I enjoyed being this angry. I fucking hated it. I hatedmyselfwhen I got like that.
“How much?” I asked instead.
“What?” Murphy furrowed his brows.
“How much did the guy pay for a weekend with me?”
My friends — could I even consider them my friends any longer? — exchanged glances.
“Three thousand dollars,” Liam said, worrying his lip.
I sucked in a breath. Wow. That was a lot of money to spend on a weekend with a guy he’d never even met. And a lot of money for charity.
Fuck.
I really didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want to be the asshole who flunked out. For all those organizers and the guy knew, I’d been a willing participant. Right?
Wait…
“Didn’t they want me to give consent to being sold or anything?”
“We… uhm… might have forged your signature,” Murphy mumbled.
Of course they had.
What the fuck?
I swallowed all the curse words back down, clenched my jaw, and closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe what they’d done. I might’ve understood if they’d come clean right after they’d sobered up after they’d drunkenly sold me off. But they had opted to keep going.
And now I was left with two shitty options. Not go and look like a complete asshole. Or give in and go even though I didn’t want to go on a date with some random guy I didn’t know anything about.
We sat there in silence. The others exchanged glances they probably thought I didn’t notice because I was staring into the campfire, watching the flames dance, but I was well aware of my surroundings.
For instance, I knew that my truck was only about fifteen feet away, and I could reach it within three seconds if I wanted to.
And man, did I want to. Get in, get off, get away from this shitshow that was supposed to be a fun, relaxing camping trip.
“Okay,” I finally said, nodding. “I’ll do it.”
Mainly because I knew a bit about being a homeless teenager, and taking away money that was supposed to support them wasn’t something I was willing to do. A fact my friends were very well aware of, which only made the situation infinitely worse.
“That’s great!” Jason said, a smile spreading on his face, but I just held my hand up to signal to him I wasn’t done talking.
“Under one condition,” I kept going.
“Sure, whatever it is. Just tell us.” Liam nodded, his eyes big and hopeful.
“I’m selling myself for those three thousand dollars. I think it’s only fair for you to do your part to help out those homeless teenagers you care so much about.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m basically making three thousand dollars — and so will you. Each of you pays a thousand bucks to that charity organization.”
They blinked at me as I got up, put the beer bottle down next to the cooler, and grabbed my backpack.
“What are you doing?” Liam asked as I slowly walked towards my truck.
“Going home.”
