Page 13 of Butterfly Effect

“We are enemies,” I confirm.

“The best kind of friends then.” Lad grins and counters my claim.

“What’s in it for me?” I fold my arms under my boobs, and Lad like the good man he is, barely slides down his view to them and then back to my eyes.

“I don’t know, what do you need? Money? Do you want me to pay you?” The talk of money is uncomfortable for both of us.

“I’m not taking your oily swimsuit model money, you pathetic pool hog.” Now all my head can imagine is him in a cage oiled up with dollar bills sticking to his body.

“What about a job? My dad’s company doesn’t usually hire students, but he would make an exception for you.” Lad has me there and I hate it. I hate that I even consider dueling opposites to play friend instead of foe. “For me, if I asked.”

We are nothing alike and I don’t hate him for it. I hate myself for thinking he can give me something I can’t earn myself.

“Do I have to take off my clothes?” I take a step closer, ignoring his lack of top wear.

“No?” Lad stares at me trying to figure out if I am joking. “It’s an IT company, you would just be answering emails and customer service stuff?” Lad explains, but I ignore the explanation.

Lad’s father owns the IT company in which he works. I also know Aladden doesn’t want to work for his daddy’s company. For some reason, it made me wonder why the hero didn’t want to accept his birthright throne.

So I started digging and it turned out to be my dream instead of his and I was all too happy to steal it from him.

“What makes you think they won’t accept me based on merit and charming personality?” It’s a snide question, but I am curious of the answer.

“Because I know you lost your scholarship for undisclosed reasons. You got probation for something you didn’t do, and because I know my dad’s company will hold every wrong thing you have ever done against you. They want the best and no blemishes will do.” Lad likes to be the center of attention, even if the topic and contents aren’t about him.

“That’s biased.” I bite my cheek at his words. “I made a few mistakes.”

“That’s politics.” Lad shrugs like he can’t help the way the college situation is viewed. “Especially when the university supplies my dad’s company with future employees quite regularly. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a leg up from the others after college?” Lad inches closer, trying to seduce me or hypnotize me; either way it is working.

“Whatever.” Taking a step back and breathing a minute.

“I can pay you.” Lad bites his lip and the temptation to flirt has gone along with my libido.

“And that statement implies I can be bought, doesn’t it, Lad?” There it is.

“Alaska, I didn’t mean to offend you.” No one ever seems to, and I am not offended. I am bewildered why he thought he needed my help to figure out his problems.

“Forget it.” I start to walk away.

“What about a home? Hot meals? Your own bathroom, bedroom.” He steps closer, and I hear how soft the words are. “Home life hasn’t been easy. Since your mom passed away.” I don’t glare at him, because what he says is true.

I think about it.

I think about how easy it would be to agree. To let Lad be the savior he shines at being. But I think about me, how the picked-on girl needs help from the popular boy and I hate myself for needing it, wanting it even.

“Like I said before, it wasn’t that type of rehab.” I stare him in the eyes before walking away. “See you in class.”

As I arrive at my next class, I can’t help going over the conversation with Lad. I wonder where he got the pills from and how it all started; maybe he is cracking under the public pressure to perform.

But Lad should be warned, usually painkillers interfere with your hammer getting hard. Oh well, guess not my problem. The less time I spend worrying or interacting with Lad, the better for both of us.

I haven’t figured out my major, haven’t declared a dream path to follow. But I would be lying if I didn’t envy the idea of working for a company that would respect me, promote me no matter my gender, surely seems exciting.

“Please tell me why that swimmer god was assaulting you this morning?” Her name is Angie; she’s kind of a friend, when it is convenient for both of us. Which is rare, but perfect for me.

“I don’t think you should go around saying assaulting when we are having a conversation about Aladden Lorenzo.” I turn to face her, as I remembered his last name. All while thinking about those abs, baby. “Besides if he was assaulting me, why wouldn’t you step in and stop it?” I quirk my eyebrow at her and she purses her lips and rolls her eyes.

Always a feminist until her boyfriend tells her to look the other way. So proud to have her on our team.

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