Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Skye
"See you later, bud," I tell Justin while ruffling his hair again, watching his typical teenage reaction with affection.
"Ugh." He groans dramatically and immediately fixes his hair, smoothing it back to its original position. "Bye." He stands up, already mentally moving on to his next activity. "I'm going to finish my drawing," he tells Mom as he leaves the room, his mind clearly already back with his art supplies.
Mom comes over and hugs me tight, her arms wrapping around me with that perfect maternal pressure that somehow still makes everything feel temporarily fixable.
I wrap my arms around her, breathing in her familiar scent of perfume – the same one she's worn since I was little, a comforting constant in our constantly changing life.
"Are you sure about this?" I whisper in her ear, still worried about leaving her and Justin for the entire summer.
"Positive," she says, pulling back to look me in the eyes.
There's a certainty there I haven't seen in a while, a spark of the mom who existed before Dad left us.
"It's not your job to take care of us. I'm thankful for all your help after...
" She doesn't have to finish that sentence. We both know what came after.
"Well, it's too late anyway. You already said yes," Harper says as she walks back into the room from using the bathroom, her confident stride making even this simple action look like she's walking a runway.
Her red hair always so beautiful, and I feel that familiar twinge of envy at how effortlessly beautiful my best friend is.
Mom smiles at her with genuine warmth. "You just take care of her," she tells Harper and pulls her into a hug. Mom has always loved Harper, probably because Harper has been my rock since sixth grade when her parents divorced and she moved down the street.
"I will," Harper promises with that easy confidence that makes everything seem possible. The same confidence that got me to try camming in the first place, though I'm still nowhere near as comfortable with it as she is.
"We're going to head home," I say and walk to the back door to put my shoes back on.
When we're in the car on the way home, Harper talks non-stop about how much fun we're going to have this summer.
The ocean, the shopping, the exclusive restaurants her dad likes to take her to.
She describes beaches with golden sand and boutiques filled with clothes I could never afford.
My mind wanders as she paints a picture of California that seems almost too perfect to be real, like something from one of those teen dramas where everyone mysteriously has unlimited money and free time.
After a while, I get my chance when she pauses to take a breath, so I just go for it. I've been dying to tell her since I made the decision last night.
"I signed up for the auction," I say, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess myself again. My heart hammers against my ribs.
Harper slams on the brakes harder than necessary at a stop sign, her head whipping toward me so fast her hair flies. "Shut up," she says, eyes wide with disbelief. "Like, the virginity auction? The Obsidian one?"
"Yep." My heart flutters with a mixture of terror and excitement as I wait for her reaction.
"Tell me everything," she demands, easing the car forward again, but I can tell I have her complete attention now. The California plans completely forgotten.
"Well, I had to set up an account with this weird username they assigned me, and I have to wait for it to be approved before I know anything else," I explain, my fingers drift down to the hem of my tank top, pulling at a loose thread.
"Oh my god, I can't believe you signed up! I didn't think you would ever do it," Harper says, her voice rising with excitement, eyes sparkling. "But this could be really fun. And the money... You have to tell me everything as soon as you know. Every. Single. Detail."
"I will," I promise as we pull up to our apartment complex.
The pristine white building stands elegantly against the dark sky, its crisp black accents adding sophisticated contrast to the facade.
Carefully maintained landscaping surrounds the property—lush green shrubs and seasonal flowers create a natural border.
"Let me check and see if I have anything from them yet," I say before we get out of the car.
I've been checking obsessively every five minutes until we got to my house for dinner.
I pull out my phone and scroll through my emails, my heart racing as I search through spam and school announcements until I see one from Obsidian.
My breath catches in my throat, making me cough slightly.
"I got one," I say, tapping to open it with slightly shaking fingers, the bitten nails that I can never seem to stop picking at.
The sleek black background of the email with its minimalist gold logo makes my heart rate kick up another notch, like I've just chugged three espressos. The design alone screams money and exclusivity as I read aloud to Harper:
"Dear Cherry_Red,
Thank you for your interest in our exclusive auction event. Obsidian prides itself on maintaining the highest standards of discretion, security, and exceptional experiences for our carefully selected clientele and participants.
Your preliminary application has been received and is under review by our membership committee. As you can appreciate, our verification process is thorough to ensure the comfort and safety of all involved.
To continue with the verification process, please download our proprietary application using the link below. You will find temporary credentials that will allow you to complete the next steps required for consideration. These credentials will expire in 48 hours.
We look forward to potentially welcoming you to the Obsidian experience.
Regards,
Management”
"Oh my god, that is crazy," Harper says, leaning over so far she's practically in my lap, her vanilla perfume enveloping me as she stares at my screen. "It sounds so official and fancy."
I'm just stunned, trying to wrap my mind around what I'm doing.
The reality of it hits me like a physical force—I'm actually considering auctioning my virginity to a stranger.
Some rich guy I've never met will pay money to...
My stomach flips with a mixture of nerves and something else I don't want to examine too closely.
The thought should terrify me more than it does, but all I can think about is the tuition bill waiting in my email, Justin's therapy costs that insurance barely covers, and Mom's exhausted face.
"Click on it! Click on it!" Harper says excitedly, bouncing slightly in her seat, her bracelets jingling with the movement. Her enthusiasm is contagious, cutting through my moment of doubt.
I take a deep breath, my finger hovering over the link.
This is it—the point of no return. With one tap, I'm stepping into a world I know nothing about, crossing a line I never thought I would.
The weight of the decision presses on me, but so does the weight of all those bills, all those responsibilities that never seem to end.
I press my finger down on the screen, watching as it loads, taking me into whatever comes next.
The app takes a moment to load, then opens to a sleek black interface with gold accents—same as the email.
My eyes widen as I start scrolling through page after page of information.
There's so much of it, all written in that same formal, exclusive tone that makes me feel like I should be wearing something nicer just to read it.
"Holy shit," I whisper, scanning the different sections. "Look, you can apply just for the auction or to become an actual member."
Harper leans closer, her shoulder pressing against mine. "Like we'd qualify for membership," she snorts, but there's no malice in her voice.
I keep scrolling until we both gasp at the same time. The membership requirements and fees appear on screen, numbers so large they barely make sense to my brain that's used to calculating if I can afford an extra coffee this week.
"Who could afford that?" I say out loud, my voice slightly higher than normal. "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for annual dues? And you need a minimum net worth of ten million?"
"Jesus," Harper breathes, equally stunned. "That's insane."
We continue reading through the application requirements for auction participants. My stomach tightens as I read that I need to submit to a physical exam, complete STD testing, and—the part that makes my cheeks burn—have a doctor verify my virginity.
"This is crazy," I say, turning to Harper with wide eyes. The reality of what I'm considering hits me again, harder this time. A doctor examining me to prove I'm a virgin so rich men can bid on me. It sounds medieval when I think about it that way.
"I know," Harper says, but she keeps reading, her eyes bright with excitement that doesn't match my growing anxiety.
We finally finish reviewing everything, and I close the app as we get out of the car. The night air is cool against my hot face as we walk toward our apartment building.
"I'll fill it out tonight," I say, tucking my phone into my pocket. "And I'll make the doctor appointment tomorrow between classes."
Harper loops her arm through mine. "This is going to change everything," she says, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.