Page 65 of Exquisite Taste


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And to think, the entire reason I’m in this predicament is because of her. Because at least I cared enough about our friendship to sacrifice, and boy did I.

The sadness I feel is gone. In its place is anger. Fury at the way I lowered myself to Sylvia’s games and played into Damien’s deception, all to hold onto a friendship that was never real in the first place.

I pull my eyes away from my traitorous friend and turn to Sylvia. I take a menacing step forward until we’re nose to nose. “You’re a fucking bully. The worst kind. You can cut me down and brainwash everyone to hate me, but you’ll never stop being a bitch. At least I can live with who I am.”

“And what’s that, Jensen? A whore?” I shudder at her words. “What, truth hurts? Yeah, I wonder what everyone else is gonna think when they find out what you really do with your time. I did Christine a favor by getting her away from you. I couldn’t imagine your bestie wanting to join you in becoming a call girl.”

Christine gasps. “What? What’s she talking about?” She tries to step forward, but Brittany puts her hand out to stop her.

“Did you want to tell her? That you turned yourself into someone’s sex slave? I mean, come on. Can we all say, daddy issues?” Sylvia laughs.

I take a step closer, and she steps back. “What’s wrong, Sylvia, jealous you weren’t invited to play? Someone else has a shinier ball than you? It must be since no one wants to play with you.” Her eyes light up. There it is. “Wow, did I just strike a nerve? Perfect little Sylvia, jealous of me? That must hurt. Knowing I get to have all the fun and pretty things while you sit back and watch. Because that’s all you’ll ever get to do.”

“You bitch!” she screams and comes at me. Our hands claw at each other, mine wrapping around her neck while she latches into my hair. I squeeze, hoping her eyeballs pop out of her skull, but her death grip on my hair has me stumbling backward and slamming into the pillar of the stairs. “You’re ruined here, bitch, ruined!” She may be right in that matter, which is why I don’t stop myself from pulling my fist back. Just as I go to swing, campus security pulls us apart.

“Back down, both of you!” the security guard yells.

“She started it! She attacked me. Expel her! I want to press charges.”

“Oh, give me a break!” I shout, looking around and realizing we’ve caused a scene. A large crowd of students has gathered around, watching us. I turn to the guard who’s holding Sylvia. “Expel her. She’s the psycho.”

That flips a switch, causing her to go apeshit in his tight hold. “How dare you!”

“Girls, I said stop, or both of you will be reprimanded. Jesus, this is a university, not a high school. Act like adults.” The guard lets Sylvia go, but blocks me as she attempts a step in my direction. I stare at her, daring her. I’ll take her down with no care of repercussions. At this point, I have nothing to lose. “Both of you, go your separate ways or I’ll report you to campus officials.”

I’m heaving. So is Sylvia. Her clan is standing mute. So is Christine. Of course, she refuses to even look at me. Coward.

I bend down to pick up my bag.

“You two go. I’m sure you’re late to class.” The guard leaves, heading into the next building. I’m tempted to jump right back on her, but the fight in me quickly dies. With people still lingering, I’m suddenly embarrassed at the scene we’ve caused. I just want to go back to my dorm—the room I share with someone who seems to be a stranger to me now.

“This isn’t over,” I tell her, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

“You’re right. It’s not. Don’t get too comfortable, Jensen. I have a big surprise in store for you.”

“Fuck you,” I spit out.

Sylvia swings her hair in place, seeming not a bit fazed at my verbal lashing. “Oh, Jensen, trust me, it’s going to be me fucking you.” And with that, she snaps her fingers and walks away, her posse quickly on her heels. Including my ex-best friend.

I’VE BEEN SITTING AT MY desk for the past hour, my legs propped on top, my arms resting behind my head as I stare out the two-way mirror. It’s funny to think in less than two weeks this place won’t be mine. The documents sit in front of me, waiting to be looked over and signed. Just like that. For years, I’ve dreamed about walking away. And now it’s finally going to happen.

The day I got the call about the accident, it didn’t occur to me it was also the call ending my dreams. I rushed home and sat at my brother’s bedside for hours, days. I forced it into weeks, praying he would wake up—a miracle would strike my family and he would open his eyes. The number of hours I stared at those monitors, waiting for a blimp of motion…but nothing.

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