Page 1 of Sold to the Highest Bidder
One
Nazalie
Tick. Tick. Tick.
That seemed to be the never-ending sound that plagued Nazalie's day. She looked up at the infernal wall clock. It appeared unaware of its effect on her mind. At this point, it was as if her life was in slow motion. Apart from the endless sound of chattering coming from the other end of the room, Nazalie could have sworn that if a pin had dropped now, she would hear it.
The sound of the clock seemed intent on driving her to the brink of madness. Eventually, it blended into the background of her thoughts as she scribbled random numbers in her notebook.
She was puzzled.Why was the bakery so slow today?
It was two in the afternoon, and it felt like they barely had any customers. Nazalie never thought she would work in a bakery, but she had no regrets. She loved baking and interacting with customers. She had gotten her accounting degree and though a corporate job would make her happy. By the time she graduated, she realized she didn’t have as much of a passion for numbers as she had for pastries and desserts. Here she was with an accounting degree but instead chose to work at a bakery for a little above minimum wage.
Nazalie sighed, resting her head on the counter. She could smell the muffins and cupcakes that sat a few feet away from her face. She closed her eyes, a blissful smile lining her tender cheeks. For a moment, she lost herself to the reverie of her dreams. When she started her own bakery, it would smell exactly like this, happiness, comfort and home. But she needed money for that dream to ever see the light of day. Out of the blue, a defeated expression creased her forehead, and the smile fizzled into thin air. Nazalie sighed and continued scribbling numbers: adding, subtracting, and calculating.
Nazalie gasped as a thought popped into her head. "I could take out a loan," she whispered, noting it among her options.
Face-palming, Nazalie canceled the words as fast as she wrote them. She couldn't take a loan; she was already in debt. Nazalie had taken a student loan and was still paying it.
Nazalie sighed, forcing a smile onto her face; there was still hope. As long as she was alive, there was still hope. Silently, she went back to calculating all the money she had gathered, plus the money from her belongings to be sold.
Nazalie knew she was counting her chickens, but she couldn't help it. She had always been like that as a child, calculating the benefits before anything even happens. Some people would call her an optimist, but in all honesty, she was a pessimist: only Kathrine, her best friend, was in the know. Nazalie always expected the worst outcome of all situations, no matter the glimmer of hope. Maybe that was how she had gotten through life up until this point. She studied accounting when her real dream was to open a bakery. Nazalie felt like Tiana from Disney's 'The Princess and the Frog,' continually telling herself that she was almost there when she wasn’t.
"I went to visit my sister last week, Diane." One of the women sitting at the far end of the bakery started speaking after taking a break from their endless chattering.
"Oh, that's nice, how's little Emily doing?" her friend asked, taking a sip out of her tea.
"Little Emily?!" The first woman screamed, scoffing and leaning in closer to her friend. "Emily isn't so little anymore; she bought a house recently and a car."
"Wow, that's great! At least she's getting the most out of her degree in English. What work does she do anyway?"
"That's what confused me when I first got there; Emily doesn't work!"
"What do you mean? If she doesn't work, how did she get the money for those things?"
"I stumbled upon the most insane conversation between my niece and her friend. They didn't know I was in the bathroom right beside her room."
The woman took a pause and sighed a bit dramatically. She sighed as if the weight of her next words bore down on her. The other friend inched forward on her seat, waiting for her to spill the contents on her mind. Nazalie couldn't help it; she leaned forward too. She didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation. Still, it was quiet in the bakery, and it was hard to concentrate on anything else.
Finally, the woman spoke. "They talked about this website or app named 'Lose it.' Emily said that a month ago, she joined it because she heard about it from one of her friends."
"Annie, teenagers join websites and download apps every day, What's so special about this app?" The friend asked with a confused expression.
Annie, the woman's name was Annie; Nazalie noted, putting it at the back of her mind. Nazalie had never seen them at the bakery before. They had ordered two muffins and tea. They'd been sitting there and talking since they entered.
"Emily told her friend that two weeks ago, she found out that it wasn't an ordinary site. Women went there to sell their virginity to the highest bidder."
"What? You're kidding, right?" Her friend gasped. Nazalie was shocked too; no wonder the woman looked so horrified.
"Why would I joke about something as serious as this? It gets even worse. Emily said that she put hers up for a bid and someone offered to pay six figuresfor it."
"No way, don't tell me she accepted the bid."
"She did," Annie announced, sipping her tea sadly. "Emily said she lost it a week ago; she even said that he was good looking for someone who buys a woman's virginity. And they laughed, they laughed, Candice!"
Candicesighed and took a sip out of her tea. "Isn't it illegal? How old is Emily again? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Emily is nineteen years old."
