Sebastian Thornhill is dating someone??
She's teaching him to skate omg adorable
I scroll to her first post. The one with theSend Helpcaption. Different comments there.
Isla are you okay?
Did he actually bid 1k?
This is either the best love story or the worst. No in between.
No in between. They're not wrong.
I sit there for another ten minutes, watching the ice, thinking about her hand in mine. How she could have let me fall. Could have made me look ridiculous in front of everyone.
Instead, she taught me to skate.
Why?
My phone buzzes. A text from Marcus:How'd it go?
I type back:Unclear. She either hates me slightly less or is planning my murder. 50/50 shot.
I pocket my phone and head back to my car. I drive back to the Legacy House alone, my hand still tingling from holding hers.
Four more dates.
Two more weeks.
Either I'm going to figure out what I'm doing, or I'm going to destroy whatever microscopic chance I have left at proving I'm not the person she thinks I am.
Right now, the odds aren't looking great.
But I've never been good at quitting when the odds are bad.
It's probably the one thing my father taught me that's actually worth knowing.
Chapter 5
Isla
I don't letmyself think about it until I'm back in my dorm room. Don't think about his hand in mine. Don't think about the way his voice changed when he talked about his father. Don't think about how he looked trying so hard to skate, vulnerable in a way I've never seen him.
I don't think about any of it.
Becca isn't here, thank god so I have the room to myself. I drop my skates by my bed and pull out my phone, checking the Instagram posts one more time.
The likes keep climbing. Comments multiply. People are eating this up. The scholarship girl and the legacy prince. It's a narrative they can't resist.
If only they knew the truth.
I'm about to put my phone away when it buzzes with a text from Ivy:Emergency girl talk. My room. Now. Bringing wine.
Wine. Which means she bought the cheapest bottle from the liquor store near campus. Which means she's serious.
I consider refusing. I'm tired. My feet hurt. My head hurts from trying not to analyze every second of that date.
But Ivy said emergency, and something about that makes me grab my keys and head down the hall.
