“I went to Walmart right after I left here and saw it, so I bought it for you. You’re okay, though? Do you have any pain?”
I shake my head, walking past him to grab my shoes. “No, no pain.”
“Do you mind if we spend the day together? I want to make sure you’re okay.”
I lace up my shoes and shrug. “Sure, yeah.” I grab my flask from the counter and refill it. “Hey, you didn’t tell Scott––”
“Hell no. He’s just a dick.”
I lock my apartment behind me and follow Dylan to his truck. I sit in the backseat with Westley. They listen to music as I flick through my to-do list for the week. I need to contact a brand regarding my invoice, follow up with a few other brands I reached out to, and plan a Zoom meeting with the agency.
When we reach their house, the guys pile out. I’m left in the back seat, remembering what we did here hours ago. I step out and get into the front seat.
I scroll on my phone when Dylan opens his truck door.
“Ready?” he says.
“Just waiting for Princess Dylan.”
He smiles, giving me a princess face as he drives off.
It’s silent for a couple of minutes before he glances over at my phone and asks, “How’s work?”
I shake my head. “I did some work for a brand called Aslo. They’re based in the UK. I did some UGC content for them. Probably my best work. I hired out a photographer, a graphic designer, the whole thing, and it did great. I get a commission from the sales through my link, but they can’t figure out how to wire it properly to my bank. I’ve been back and forth with them for nine weeks now, and they keep saying that they’ll pay me, they’ll pay me. I’m just frustrated with the whole thing. My bank is apparently the problem.”
“How much do they owe you?” he asks.
I laugh. “You don’t want to know.”
“A few hundred?”
I bite my lip, shaking my head. I point my finger up.
“A thousand?”
I point up, shaking my head. I don’t want to tell him that it’s over twenty thousand dollars.
“Holy shit. You don’t even need college, Ce. Is being here holding you back?”
“I’m here for friends, and a backup plan.”
“Ce,” he begins, but I cut him off.
“A degree matters to me.”
He pulls into the gym parking lot.
“College matters to me, Dilly. As ridiculous as it sounds, we’re only young once and can’t experience this ever again.”
“But you’re not even in the dorms. You said you haven’t even made friends yet.”
I frown a little at the reality. “I have you.” I quickly get out of the truck, hoping to finish the conversation.
He hops out, locks his truck, and then says, “If you had no other obligations like college or training a friend, I bet you could triple your income.”
“It’s not all about the money for me, Dylan.” He looks at me with a blank face, so I continue, “Do you want to be an influencer?”
“If it means I’m making thousands for a brand deal, shoot the puck my way.”
