Page 132 of Counter Bet

No.I refuse to downplay how much it hurt to find out about the bet. It broke me. I went through emotional hell in the first couple of weeks and months afterward.

“What do I do?”

Scarlett smirks, pointing to the pictures in my lap. “Do you have more photographs?”

“Well, no,” I start, but then a thought occurs to me. “I still have the pictures on my social media.”

“Perfect!” Scarlett smiles. “Print them out. You’re going to woo Ben the same way he wooed you.”

I laugh in disbelief. “There’s only one problem with that. I haven’t seen Ben since I moved here. This place is huge!”

Her face splits in a Cheshire smile. “Oh, sweetie. It’s a good thing that I know where to find him.”

My mouth drops open.

She collects the photographs and puts them back in my bedside drawer as if she didn’t just drop a bomb on me.

“Wait a minute. What do you mean?”

“He’s a business major. We take political science together.”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Wait, what? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Scarlett barks a laugh. “Emily, this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned Ben to me. I didn’t know you liked him, or I would have said something sooner.”

I’m scared to ask, but my own curiosity gets the better of me. “What is he like now? Is he doing okay?”

Her demeanor changes. She looks away. “I don’t know him that well. It’s not like I talk to him or anything.”

“What are you not telling me?”

“I don’t know what he was like when you knew him, but he’s a bit of a manwhore now.” She cringes, looking apologetic.

I fight to keep my emotions from showing on my face. What did I expect? That he would stay celibate?

I attempt a shaky smile.

“Oh, Emily,” she whispers softly. “Don’t let it put you off. He doesn’t know you’re still in love with him.”

“You’re right. He doesn’t.” Why are we having this conversation? Ben doesn’t miss me. He’s never sought me out or tried to contact me. The best thing would be to move on with my life and let him and Dallas do the same. I’ll stop loving them eventually, right?

Scarlett swipes my phone off the bed. “I like this one,” she mumbles, scrolling through my phone. “Oh, this picture is cute! Why haven’t I stalked you on social media before?”

“Maybe because you’re the only person our age that doesn’t use social media,” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I don’t feel the need for it. I would rather meet people in real life.”

I understand her point of view. Admire it even.

She prints out numerous photographs and then orders me to write my emotions on the back.

I raise an eyebrow skeptically. This feels too cheesy.

“Trust me on this, okay?”

I scoff but do as I’m told. I don’t trust her for one minute, but what do I have to lose at this point? Nothing.

I count six photographs in total and take a moment to study each one before writing on the back of them all.

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