A woman and her best friend run a fake dating account together, until the friend hijacks it for herself. Just as the deception spirals out of control, a real heir steps in and changes everything.
I don't say a word. He keeps asking. So that's the golden boy? You know him?
Chase Witware. Hard to miss. just a player with a big ego. Why is he picking on you? It's complicated. Don't worry about it. If you ever need someone to put him in his place, let me know. I'm about to say more.
When a crumpled paper ball comes flying straight towards me, I flinch. But before it can hit me, Asher catches the paper in midair. He unfolds the paper, glances at the boy who threw it, and reads it out loud. Know your place, diner girl. He turns his eyes toward the loud linebacker sitting next to Chase. That's the best you've got, Brody? What are
we, in middle school? Did Whitmore come up with that for you, or was it all you? A ripple of laughter instantly erupts across the classroom. Brody's face turns red. He his desk and stands up. What the hell did you just say, Hayes? I said your handwriting sucks. So does your taste in friends.
Chase snaps. He spins around and stares at Asher. Mind your own business, new guy. Make me Whitmore. Brody takes a step toward our desk. You're dead. Everybody sit down and shut up now! Mr. Harrison roars. The whole class goes quiet. Brody points at Asher.
He started it! A few guys in class start talking at once. Yeah, he was talking trash about Brody. He's been here, what, a week?
And he's already starting fights? Mr. Harrison slams his book onto the desk. Enough. One more word and you're all staying after class.
Brody sits down, still glaring at Asher. Mr. Harrison? Chase says. You should probably move the new boy.
He's causing trouble. I turn around. Are you serious? Brody threw something at me.
Emma, that's enough. Mr. Harrison says. I'll deal with it. Everyone, open your books.
Asher glances at me. You always have this much fun in class?