19. Sabrina
19
SAbrINA
I wasn’t sure how to compartmentalize the fact that I’d had sex with Nick. That event loomed so large in my head that I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I spent my weekends studying, reading, or helping my parents at the house. Sometimes, I could enjoy a “break” by volunteering at the Humane Society.
This weekend, though, I was unable to do anything but think about how good Nick made me feel. I was incapable of doing anything productive, and even being near my parents seemed weird.
Keeping this all in my head wasn’t conducive. So, I asked Elise to meet me at the Humane Society. I put a couple of hours in walking dogs that needed homes, then I headed to the café next door to spill the beans. Maybe talking about it all would clear my head. That was my goal.
It didn’t.
After I rambled and unleashed the confession of what I’d done that day with Nick—all of it, from the car breaking down and him showing up all the way to when I ran home—she stared at me with her brows hiked up high in disbelief.
“You had sex.” She said it like a statement of confirmation, not a question.
She knew I was a virgin and never judged.
I nodded, wincing as I held the cup of water between my hands. Caffeine would have only made me more jittery and on edge.
“With Nick. Nick Grant.” Again, she stated it instead of asking.
I nodded slower.
“The jerk who’s been bullying you. Posting rumors and lies about you. Who painted a naughty picture of you and let it go viral. Who…” She scoffed, incredulous.
“Who stalks me,” I added.
She blinked and shook her head slowly. “What in the name of twisted enemies-to-lovers nonsense is this?” A careful smile took over her face. “I mean, Sabrina. What in the hell came over you?”
I lowered my head to drop my brow against my hands atop the table.
She laughed lightly. “Okay. Sorry. I’m just… Well, you shocked me, all right?”
I sat up, cringing. “I shocked myself.”
“By how good it was?” She waggled her eyebrows and grinned mischievously.
I blew out a deep breath. “It’s not like I have anyone to compare him to…” And I don’t want anyone else, either.
That was the most disturbing part of it. I doubted any other guy would ever click with me like Nick did, so perfectly antagonistic that it somehow made us make more sense.
“Okay, but.” She sobered up, furrowing her brow. “You realize what’s going on here, right?”
“Um, I had a huge lapse of judgment?” That I can’t regret.
“That. But also who Nick is.” She leaned over, resting her elbow on the bistro table between us as she propped her chin in her hand.
“The campus bad boy. The rebel artist.”
“Yeah, but he’s also Tiffany Lorsen’s stepbrother.”
Blood drained from my face. That nugget of news stole my breath as I stared her down. “What?”
“Nick’s mom married George Lorsen, like, a couple of years ago or something.”
I knew there was something fishy about his being at the Lorsen mansion! I had been so distracted and confused that I hadn’t thought much about how Nick pulled me into that pool house, like he knew the lay of the land.
I groaned, dropping my head again. “No wonder he’s interested in me.” I jerked back upright. “He’s only trying to…”
“Bully you?” She guessed it for me.
“To mess with me because of her.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It kind of sounds like he’s just into you, after the fact.”
“I can’t trust that. I can’t trust him .” I’d told him that several times. I doubted I could trust him any more now that I’d caved to him and given him my V-card. “I couldn’t trust him before we had sex, but knowing that he’s related to Tiffany makes him even more of an enemy!”
“Then, maybe…” She shrugged again, as if she were sorry to say this. “Maybe cross this off as a bad mistake, a lesson learned, and steer clear of him again.”
The trouble with that was how I doubted I could. I didn’t want to steer clear of Nick. I wanted to figure out how to accept that I’d had sex with him, and once I did, once I could think clearly again, I wanted more with him.
That one time was not enough. He’d unleashed this feral desire in me. He hogged all my thoughts.
At the crux of the matter, though, I let a little bit of sadness creep in.
I hadn’t been saving my virginity out of any sense of purity. It wasn’t a goal. I had just been too busy, too focused on my career and education, assuming that I could focus on a sex or love life later.
But giving my V-card to my bully? I did regret that. It wasn’t something I could get back, and I wished that I could’ve given it to someone who actually cared about me and respected me.
And Nick Grant—the stepbrother of the princess who treated me as her nemesis—did not respect me.
Desire me? Yes.
I wouldn’t delude myself into thinking that Nick really cared about me beyond something physical.
Talking to Elise helped me. With her, I had a chance to get it off my chest. Before we wrapped up our discussion, she apologized that she couldn’t offer me any better advice.
When I arrived on campus Monday morning, though, my concerns and worries about facing Nick didn’t matter. He wasn’t there to stalk me or follow me from class to class. He was strangely absent, and while I felt his absence, I was distracted by the good news of high exam and assignment scores that had come in. Those were bits of happiness I could appreciate. Dad texted me too, saying that the car—which had been impounded from the Lorsen property, likely Tiffany’s doing—was back at home and since there was an issue with paperwork, we wouldn’t have to pay a fee.
Even though I was nervous to face Nick, I was having a good morning of small “wins”.
At least, until my afternoon class came and I was asked to speak with the head of the department about new accusations that I’d slept with a couple of members of the staff.
Not this again.
If I had the money and means, I’d sue for libel and slander.
Because as I got up to go speak with the head of the department, I passed Tiffany and Rachel in the lecture hall.
“What a slut,” Rachel taunted.
I shook my head and went to face the music. Like the last time that these baseless accusations were reported against me, I had the time stamped video of where I really was during the times that I was supposedly sleeping with a couple of adjunct professors. I had been at the Humane Society, then talking to Elise, during the time that I had allegedly met up with these men. It helped that they denied it, too, and I ended up apologizing to them for this.
“Truly, I’m sorry,” I told the younger man, a new adjunct who taught a contracts course.
“I don’t even know her,” he exclaimed to the head of the department. “She’s not a student of mine.”
“Yeah. Me neither,” the other adjunct instructor said. “I’ve never met her.” He narrowed his eyes. “Who filed this complaint? I’ll be damned if my name is dragged through the mud like this.”
His heated reaction saddened me more. “It’s not an attack on your character,” I told them. “It’s an accusation to hurt me .”
The first instructor frowned at me. “This isn’t the first time this has happened to you?”
I gave the head of the department a dull stare. “Nope.”
The head of the department, an older man near retirement, winced.
“Who filed these complaints?” the second instructor asked. “I’ll sue for slander. This is bullshit.”
The department head cringed. “That’s not necessary.”
I stood, sick of this. “What he means is the same female student who has reported multiple baseless accusations like this is someone you wouldn’t beat in court. You could sue and lose, because Tiffany Lor?—”
“That’s enough, Miss Rosario,” the department head said, shuffling papers as he lowered his gaze. “We can just sweep this under the rug as a misunderstanding.”
Like last time?
I rolled my eyes and left, impatient not to miss more class time for this stunt. No one here would dare to stand against the Lorsens. This head of the department wouldn’t tell George Lorsen. This pushover was about to retire anyway, and it was clear his hands were tied. That was how much power and clout the Lorsens had here.
I returned to class and wished I could feel triumphant at Tiffany’s scowl. She huffed as I reclaimed my seat next to Maxim, probably so disappointed that I wasn’t expelled from that bullshit accusation.
After class, she proved how bothered she was about it.
“I can’t believe they even let you be a student here,” she snapped at me in the hallway.
“Get over it,” I bit out.
It seemed my de facto approach to her bullying had faded since sleeping with her stepbrother. I wasn’t in the mood to turn the other cheek or ignore her.
“No. You need to get over it.” She cut me off, sneering at me as she faced me and blocked me from walking further. “You need to get over this stupid idea that you can excel here.”
I shrugged. “I already am.”
She gritted her teeth, fuming. “Then get over your hope to have that intern spot.”
I stared her down, wishing I hadn’t engaged in this conversation with her at all. Because the idea of dropping out of the running had been on my mind. I only hated that she could claim the glory of making me quit.
“Rescind your application,” she ordered.
“No.” I said it deadpan, yet firmly.
“Fine,” she snarled. “Then I’ll never stop making your life miserable.”
She spun on her heel, stalking away and meeting Rachel at the double doors that would lead out to the sunshine out on the campus square.
I curled my fingers over the strap of my bag tighter. Mom had found this old one in the closet, and gripping the fabric was a feeble physical reaction of venting.
I wanted to make a fist and punch Tiffany for all the hatred she spewed at me.
Instead, I simmered with this rage, watching her leave.
I had been debating backing out. Seeing how Lorsen & Spengler operated had tarnished my interest in being an intern for them this summer. I didn’t want to help sleazy scumbag CEOs get out of trouble they deserved. I wanted to help people—everyday, ordinary neighbors—who actually needed assistance.
But I didn’t want to drop out of the running for that intern spot just because Tiffany feared the competition with me. If I did, that would be quitting.
And I would always champion myself as someone who never quit, not even when things got tough.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me out of my thoughts. With a sigh, I got it out of my pocket and answered my mom’s call as I resumed leaving the building.
“Sabrina, will you be home to come with me?” she asked.
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yes, Mom. My last class just ended, and I’ll be on my way to the bus stop now.” She never nagged me. I was too self-sufficient for that. But after the last time I’d promised to be available to help her with a short-staffed catering gig, she had a right to be nervous I wouldn’t show.
“Good. Good. This dinner is bigger than Joann realized.”
“Oh? What’s it for again?” I didn’t really care. All posh parties and events were the same. Crowded with the elite and hours of standing on my feet while I faked a polite, customer-service-ready smile. I had been looking forward to spending time near or with my mom tonight, though. She was always a decent listening ear, and she would hear me out about my issues with Nick. Even if she couldn’t offer me advice, she’d listen. Plus, the auto-pilot work of being a member of the catering staff would be a distraction.
“Some kind of fundraiser,” she replied. “For a lawyers’ association.”
I grimaced. Shit. “Oh.”
It would be just my luck to have to face Tiffany again after her demand that I quit going for the intern spot she wanted.
My mom had to be referencing the group of legal professionals in the area, and the Lorsen family was no doubt included.
I willed this growing tension to cease from getting worse. “I’ll be home soon, Mom.”
So much for counting on a distraction.