I’m fucked.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “How can I help you?” I’m proud that I’m able to hide the hitch in my breath as her elegant throat bobs.
“I wanted to discuss a plan to complete my makeup assignments,” she whispers initially, but gains her confidence by the end of her request.
Do I make the spitfire nervous?
I’m reminded of the first day of school when she looked like a deer in headlights when she walked into the office. She had the same doe-eyed look. I had fun toying with her then, but I know nothing good will come from me toying with her now. I’m barely hanging on as it is.
Nodding, I state, “Each of your teachers was briefed about your absence and expects to hear from you. Take this form, and have each one fill it out with clear instructions on how and when your assignments should be done.”
She saunters into the room. The sway of her hips enraptures me. It’s not purposefully done to seduce, making it much more enticing. Her hand reaches for the paper from my outstretched one, and our fingers brush, and a jolt of something shoots through me at the quick light connection of our skin.
I snatch my hand back, but my gaze never leaves hers, stuck in a forcefield that refuses to let either one of us break our stare. I can see the dusting of freckles by her right eye and the way they darken as she takes me in.
A throat clears, and we both jump, our trance broken. I look to sneer at the uninvited intruder at such a moment, and I’m met with Vivian fucking Taylor’s stern glare. Dare I say she looks almost feral, her upper lip pulled up, exposing her teeth? She’s definitely a mood killer, and I can’t tell if I’m glad or pissed off at her presence because it stopped whatever that was.
Returning my attention to Emma, “If you have any trouble with any of your teachers, please let me know. They’ve all been made aware that they should give you enough time to catch up.”
“Thank you,” Emma mumbles and darts out the door without so much as a backward glance.
“What the fuck was that, Bash?” she demands.
Standing from my seat, I grab my suit jacket, deciding I’m done here for the day. We have a meeting about the rules for our courting dates later anyway.
Once my blazer is on, I put the files away, locking them up and still ignoring the rash that is Miss Taylor.
“Did you not hear me?” she screeches, ready to cause a scene.
Now that everything is away, I grab my satchel and finally bring my attention to her.
“That was you getting the fuck out of my office and not questioning me,” I command, pushing her outside and securing the lock before striding past her stunned face.
I yank the main office door open and notice Brian Porter standing on the other side “Can I help you?” I hope he’s not here for anything serious, I can’t stand the sniveling shit.
“I, um,” he stumbles.
Sighing, I reign in my annoyance. “How can I help you Mr. Porter?” I try again.
“I wanted to see about changing some classes, but I’ll come back tomorrow,” he rushes out, turning and scurrying down the hallway.
* * *
“The rules are simple. You must take each girl on at least one date starting with the one you chose on Selection Night,” Mr. Calloway explains, and everyone groans except August, who looks like a twisted version of a clown with how big his smile is.
He’s the only one with someone of substance. The rest of these girls are vapid leeches. The idea of spending any amount of time with them makes my head pound.
“When you say date, what exactly does that entail?” Karl inquires, and I can see him trying to take his date to the butcher shop to gut pigs.
Rowan’s dad steps from around the table before he replies, “I mean dinner, conversation, dancing, movies, things to get to know them. You’ll have to pick one of them. Eventually. It would behoove you not to be saddled with someone you despise.”
“We’re choosing Riri. This is all just a formality,” August states with a surety that dares someone to challenge his decree. He won’t get one from me. Of all the girls, Emma is the only one I could say I wouldn’t mind having to marry. I still won’t love her, but it would be great to be with someone I could respect.
Mr. Calloway sighs, “Be that as it may, you still need to hold up your end of this arrangement. Date them, fuck them, just don’t impregnate any of them. As a matter of fact, we’ve called in Dr. Lambert to place birth control implants in each girl’s arm. Save the babies until after college.”
The word baby makes Rowan’s face turn four shades of green and Liam stiffen while Karl and August look crestfallen. Those idiots couldn’t possibly want to get a girl pregnant in high school.
“He didn’t say you couldn’t practice the act of making babies all you want. Fix your faces, you idiots,” I snipe.
Looking at Mr. Calloway, I nod, acknowledging his wise decision. Those two would try to fill Emma with so much of their cum she’d be pregnant in a day. I wonder again if she knows exactly what she’s signed up for.
She’s got two wildly possessive and obsessed men at her beck and call, with the third and fourth closer to being team her than she might realize. Lucky for her, it will stop at four. While I may enjoy her surrender, I don’t plan on surrendering in return.
“I expect the dates to begin as soon as tomorrow. You have until the end of the school year and five young women to court,” Mr. Calloway instructs, staring each of us down with his cold brown eyes. He stops before us, ensuring we understand his last point. “Boys, don’t fuck this up.”
EMMA
After a long day at school, the last thing I want to do is to meet and discuss this Selection shit, but at least I’ll be able to see Dad. I can’t wait for him to be home so we can talk without watchful eyes on us.
I’m still shocked by his appearance when I open the door to my dad’s room. His face is now cleanly shaved, but he still looks somewhat emaciated. Dark puffy bags sit under his gaunt gray eyes that appear paler than their usual smokey gray.
“Ry.” My dad smiles wryly, his face lighting up. “What are you doing here?” he asks, pushing the button to elevate himself into a sitting position.
I step further into the room before answering, “I have some stupid meeting about what this whole Selection process entails, so I thought I’d stop by before going to the stuffy meeting.” I sit at his bedside before continuing. “What madness should I expect when I get up there, Dad?”
I’ve wanted to push for more answers, but I didn’t want to interfere with his recovery. The doctors have already made it clear that we need to keep his stress levels down, ensuring that nothing impedes his recovery.
So, I’ve bitten my tongue. I’m hoping this line of questioning isn’t too heart rate spiking. There are too many unknowns. For every question answered, ten more arise.
Clearing his throat, he responds, “Well, I’d say it was simple, but the rules outlined for this Selection are vastly different than when I was going through it.”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. I thought he didn’t grow up here.
“Wait, I thought you never lived in Calloway? How were you part of the process?”
Dad smirks, nodding before he replies, “Always keen on the details. No, I didn’t, but I still had to participate in the tradition. I can’t get into the whys or hows just yet.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.