She scans the screen and chuckles. “Well, I’m not famous either.”
I often forget the massive differences in our upbringing, but Sam never fails to remind me.
“You’re with me,” I say. “That’s all that matters. I know everyone at Dolce.”
She smiles. “Yes, that’s all that matters. That we’re together. I don’t care what we eat.”
I really do love this girl. I gave Trent and Preston shit for turning into pussy-whipped assholes, but that was before I understood how it feels to be in love.
“I have to run to the ladies’ room,” Sam says, getting up from the chair across the table from me. “I’ll be right back.”
I tug on her shirt, pulling her face down to meet mine, our lips connecting for a split second. “Don’t take too long.”
She radiates from the smile spreading across her face, and then she takes off down the stairs to the lower level.
I close out the web browser about to shut the laptop when I notice a file on her desktop. At first, I only notice my name, but then I see Jameson O’Connor, Jr., Peter “Preston” Parker, Drake Donovan, and Trent Kane. Why does she have folders with our names on them?
An eerie chill spreads down my arms causing the hair on them to stand at attention. I click on my folder, my fingers trembling. Sam has pictures of me pounding beer at the Delta Sig house. I’m wearing nothing but black boxer briefs in one image with red and pink lipstick kisses spread from my cheek to my chest and into my boxers. That was a fun night. Kiss and Tell, what a stupid name for a party. But it was one hell of a night. It was also at the beginning of the Fall semester.
Has Sam been following me since before we met? I shake my head unsure of why she has so many pictures of me. There are pages of notes in a Word document detailing every single thing I’ve done since the start of the year. Her last entry is dated last month.
What the fuck? Why is she keeping tabs on me?
I open Trent, Preston, Drake, and Jamie’s folders finding similar content. She has notes on all of us, pictures of us with other women who are not our girlfriends, and enough dirt to bury us.
Does she want money?
Is everything between us a lie?
I have no idea what to think as I push the laptop across the table from me as if it’s on fire.
Sam sits across from me, confused until she glances at the computer screen. All of the folders are open, an image of Jamie kissing a girl on display for her to see.
She slams the laptop shut. “Tucker, I can explain. Please, it’s not what you think.”
“Not what I think?” I shake my head, sick to my stomach when I look into her eyes. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am.”
“No, I don’t, not really. Did we meet again on purpose? Is this all part of some elaborate catfishing scam?”
Tears fill her bottom lids. “No, of course not. Are you crazy? It’s not what you think.”
“I’m not the crazy one,” I shoot back. “Why are you stalking my friends and me? Why do you have folders on us?”
“I was working for someone who wanted information on you.”
“Was? And when did you stop?”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “Technically, I still work for her, but I haven’t given her anything new since we started dating.”
“Who do you work for?”
“I’m so sorry, Tucker.” Sam reaches for my hand, but I pull it away from her as if I’m allergic to her touch. “I never meant to hurt you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, but I had no idea how to do it. This isn’t easy for me. I needed the money, and she exploited my weakness.”
I can’t even look at her. She sold me out for money. I’m so disgusted, her betrayal leaves a harsh sting.
I ball my hands into fists on my lap, my teeth clenched in anger. “Who do you work for? You at least owe me that.”
“She calls herself The Queen.”
I bang my fist on the table, shaking it without meaning to be so loud. I’m so angry I can’t think straight, my vision clouded by my rage.
“How could you do this to me?” She swats the tears falling from her eyes away, and when she doesn’t answer, I continue, “Did you tell her about the pot brownies?”
She nods. “I’m sorry, Tucker. We didn’t know each other the way we do now. I hated you for taking my virginity and then treating me like trash.”
“Because you are trash,” I growl, pushing myself up from the table. “You could have ruined my hockey career. I could have been expelled from school.”
“Like it would have affected you,” she hisses. “Guys like you are untouchable. You have everything. People like me, we have nothing. We have to work for everything we have and still live in poverty. So, don’t pretend to understand my motives. I never thought I would get close to you. I never planned to take things this far.”