I Stopped Paying, He Started Begging

The cold blade twists.

It shreds my heart.

I collapse into a pool of my own warm blood. My body jerks. Convulses on the cold floor.

My vision blurs. Graying at the edges.

But I see him.

Caleb.

His hand cupped over Jenna's eyes. So careful. So gentle.

Don't look, he coos. It's dirty.

Dirty.

That is all I am.

Even in my final moment, he refuses to look at me.

He steps over my dying body with a sneer. Like I am a piece of trash rotting on the roadside.

Agony explodes in my chest.

Darkness swallows everything.

My eyes snap open.

I gasp. Lungs heaving.

No blood.

No knife.

Just the blinding, stinging glare of the noon sun.

I blink.

Caleb stands before me.

He is eighteen again.

His neck stiffens. Radiating that familiar, prickly pride.

He flicks his wrist.

Slap.

A bank card hits my face. Stings my cheek before clattering to the ground.

"Take your filthy money," he spits. His face twists with high-minded arrogance. "I will never accept your charity."

I freeze.

My hand trembles as it rises to my chest.

I press my palm against the skin.

Thump. Thump.

Whole. Intact. Beating.

I smile.

"Okay."

Chapter 1

Gym class ends. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and rubber.

Caleb blocks my path. His chest is heaving, face flushed with anger.

Clatter.

A set of car keys hits the pavement. My black card follows, spinning to a stop at my feet.

"I told you," he spits, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't want your charity."

He pauses, eyes raking over me. "And stop wasting your time. I will never like you."

I stand at the bottom of the steps. Frozen.

Confusion swirls in my gut.

Caleb is broke. He can't afford lunch. He runs twelve miles a day just to take care of his sick mother. Why would he throw away a car? Why reject the money that could save her? Just like I don't understand why I chose him. I know guys richer than him. Hotter than him. Better than him.

So why am I obsessed? Why am I the schools biggest joke? Calebs simp. Blair the Doormat.

The thought tries to surface, sharp and clear.

Bzzzt.

A heavy, invisible force slams it down. My brain goes fuzzy.

My body moves on its own. Like a programmed NPC executing a script.

I bite my lip. The taste of copper fills my mouth. I look pathetic. Submissive.

I crouch down. Pick up the keys. The card.

I hold them out to him, trembling. "Caleb, it's not charity. I just I feel bad for you."

His lip curls. Pure, unfiltered disgust. "Your pity makes me sick."

He shoves me.

Hard.

My sneakers slip on the edge of the step.

Gravity betrays me.

The world flips upside down.

Thud. Crack.

My body slams against concrete. I tumble. Shoulders. Hips. Head.

I hit the landing with a sickening crunch.

Darkness explodes behind my eyelids.

And thenthe download begins.

Its not a memory. Its a script. A plot summary force-fed into my brain.

I am a side character. A stepping stone in a high school redemption novel.

He doesn't want me. He wants her. Jenna. The childhood sweetheart. The "Golden Girl."

The future flashes in high-speed horror:

Six months from now. His mom dies. He fails his finals.

He breaks. He dates me. Not for love. For my familys money. We go abroad.

Five years of hell. He hates my existence. He treats me like dirt.

He returns. He conspires with his new friends. They dismantle my fathers company. They steal everything.

And the finale?

Im bleeding out on the floor. Stabbed by his enemies.

Caleb is there. But hes not looking at me.

Hes holding Jenna. Shielding her eyes. Walking away.

Leaving me to rot.

The image of his twenty-five-year-old face overlays his eighteen-year-old face. The coldness is identical.

I stare at him. My breath shallow.

For a second, panic flickers in his eyes.

Riiing.

The school bell screams.

Calebs posture hardens. He steps back. "If you don't want to be late, keep playing dead," he sneers. "Don't think this little stunt will make me care."

Snap.

The fog in my brain clears. Instantly.

"Wait."

My voice is raspy. Dry.

Caleb stops. He doesn't turn around. Impatience radiates off him. "What? I barely pushed you. You're not dead. Want me to carry you to the nurse?"

I grab the railing. Pull myself up.

My body aches, but my mind is razor-sharp.

I limp around him. Step right into his personal space.

He looks down, startled.

I reach into his pocket. I snatch the car keys. I grab the bank card.

I step back and wave them in his face. A smile cuts across my face. Cold. Sharp.

"Bye now."

You toxic, ego-maniacal leech.

Surprise, Caleb.

Im awake.

You want to be poor? You want to struggle?

Be my guest.

Chapter 2

School ends.

I slide into the backseat of the town car. The leather is cool against my legs.

Cliff doesn't start the engine. Hes staring at the rearview mirror, waiting. "Cliff?"

He ignores me. He rolls down the window.

A lean figure walks past the school gates.

Cliff waves frantically. "Mr. Caleb! Get in! Well take you!"

Caleb stops. He peers through the tinted glass.

His eyes lock onto mine.

Disdain. Pure and heavy.

He thinks I'm throwing a tantrum. He thinks I'm playing hard to get.

"Cliff," I say. My voice is low. "Do you work for my father, or do you work for Caleb?"

Cliffs smile freezes. "Miss Blair? Of course, I work for the family."

"My family doesn't have a 'Mr. Caleb.' Call him that again, and Ill find a driver with a better memory."

Cliff pales. "Yes, Miss. Sorry."

He starts the car. But I catch his eyes in the mirror. He shoots a longing, pitying look at Caleb as we pull away.

In the original script, except for my parents, everyone was blind.

The staff, the teachers. They all thought Caleb was a saint.

They saw a noble, struggling boy. They saw me as the spoiled brat forcing my love on him.

I watch Caleb through the rear window. He is unlocking a rusted bicycle.

In the plot, he took the car keys I begged him to take. He took the black card.

He screamed about his dignity. He acted humiliated.

But he drove my car to the hospital. He swiped my card to pay the bills.

He played the victim while spending my money.

But not this time.

He has nothing.

Twelve miles to the hospital. No cash.

Good luck, Caleb.

The afternoon sun is brutal. A heatwave hits the city.

By the time Im home, lounging in the A/C with a bowl of chilled fruit, Caleb is probably just arriving at the hospital. Soaked in sweat. Legs burning.

I finish my calculus homework. I pick up my phone.

"Mom?"

"Hey, sweetie."

"Where are you? We need to talk."

The ending of the book flashes in my mind. Bankruptcy. Ruin. I need to warn them. I need to protect the company.

"Your father and I are at the hospital," Diane says. "Visiting Uncle Reginald."

"Send me the location. I'm coming."

Cliff drives me to the hospital.

I walk through the lobby. The smell of antiseptic and stale coffee hits me.

I head toward the elevators.

"Dr. Nathan, please!"

The voice is desperate. Cracked.

I freeze.

I peer around a pillar.

Caleb is grabbing a doctors white coat. His knuckles are white.

"Just do the surgery," Caleb begs. "I'll get the money. I promise. Just start the prep."

Dr. Nathan sighs. He peels Caleb's fingers off his sleeve.

"Hospital policy, son. I cant do anything without a deposit. You still owe for the last round of chemo."

Nathan adjusts his glasses, looking tired. "If you can't pay by Friday, Susan has to be discharged. Ive done all I can."

Nathan walks away.

Caleb stands there. Shaking.

Then, his legs give out.

He slides down the wall. He buries his face in his hands. He looks small. Broken.

This isn't the arrogant boy who threw a credit card in my face this morning.

This is a boy who knows he is drowning.

So, he does know how to beg.

He just never had to beg me.

Why was he so cruel to me?

Was it simply the brainless love of a side character?

Chapter 3

I step around him. I head toward the elevators.

I barely pass his shoulder when he speaks.

"Blair. You win."

His voice is a grind of teeth and suppressed rage.

I stop. I turn. Confusion knits my brows. "Excuse me?"

Caleb unfolds his legs. He stands up.

He is tall. A head taller than me. He uses it. He looms over me, casting a shadow that feels heavy, oppressive.

He looks down his nose at me.

"This is the play, isn't it? You wanted to see me pathetic. You wanted to see me cornered so I would have to crawl for your charity."

I stare at him for a long, silent moment.

"You are actually sick," I say. "You're delusional."

He laughs. A cold, sharp sound. He thinks I am bluffing.

He extends a hand. Palm open. Expectant. Like a king waiting for tribute.

"Give it here."

I frown. "Give you what?"

"The card," he snaps. "You came here to deliver the card, didn't you?"

He pauses. His lip curls into a sneer. "Don't insult my intelligence. Don't tell me this is a coincidence. I know exactly what kind of person you are, Blair. You are predictable."

My jaw drops.

I am genuinely stunned.

Who wrote this script?

Is this really the male lead? Are his morals this twisted?

"Okay, hold on, dude. Let us get one thing clear."

I clutch my purse against my chest. I eye him warily. He looks less like a tragic hero and more like a mugger.

"My family has money. Yes. But I am not an idiot."

I step closer, my voice rising.

"My parents donate millions every year. I have seen charity cases. I have seen desperate people. But I have never, ever seen someone beg for money with this much entitlement."

"Your life is hard. Fine. That sucks. But you act like a rabid dog biting everyone who walks by."

"And let us be real. I treated you like gold. I was your doormat. People mocked me, and I took it. I gave you everything. And you act like I owe you a living?"

I tilt my head. "Do you just hate rich people? Is that your complex?"

Caleb stares at me. His eyes are dead. Cold.

Right. Talking to a brick wall.

He scoffs.

"You think money gives you the right to do whatever you want? You think you can just humiliate people?"

He leans in, his voice dripping with venom. "You do not understand me, Blair. And you have no idea how unbearable you are."

I stare at him.

"Okay." I nod. "Fine. Since you hate me so much, you can go ahead and hate my money too."

I turn away.

Ding.

The elevator doors slide open behind me.

A voice screams. Shrill. Piercing. Full of manufactured outrage.

"Blair! Stop bullying Caleb!"

Impact.

Hands shove hard against my shoulder blades.

I fly forward.

Slam.

My body hits the wall. Breath leaves my lungs.

Chapter 4

I wince. A sharp sting radiates through my shoulder blade.

I spin around.

Jenna.

She stands in front of Caleb. Arms spread wide. A tiny, ineffective shield.

She glares at me like a mother hen protecting a chick from a wolf.

Small frame. Tan skin. Twin ponytails that she thinks make her look innocent.

I don't even need to guess.

Jenna. The childhood sweetheart. The "pure" heroine of the original story.

"Blair! You are crossing a line!"

I open my mouth, but she cuts me off. She jabs a finger inches from my nose.

"Caleb has dignity! Do you think he would ever date you for your filthy money? You think you can just buy real love?" She shakes her head, disgusted. "It is childish. It is pathetic."

I stare at her. My face is a blank sheet.

My silence is heavy. It seems to press down on them.

Caleb frowns. His voice is ice. "Stop looking at her like that. She is right."

Jenna puffs up. His defense acts like oxygen to her ego.

"Look," she says, her tone softening into fake benevolence. "Even though Caleb refuses your charity for Susan's sake, I will help you. I will convince him to take the money. But Blair?"

She smirks. "Don't get any ideas. Just because he takes the money doesn't mean you get his heart."

"Oh," I say flatly.

I look her up and down. "I was just wondering what it would feel like to introduce my size six sneaker to your face."

Seriously.

Is everyone in this book brain-damaged?

Calebs expression twists into pure revulsion. "What? You expect me to be grateful for your insults?"

I roll my eyes. So hard it hurts.

I reach into my pocket. I pull out my phone. I unlock the screen.

9-1-1.

"Save the drama," I say. "You can explain your 'dignity' to the officers."

Hopefully, the police department isn't written by the same author.

Jennas eyes bulge. She looks like a fish gasping for air. "Police? You are calling the cops?"

She laughs, a nervous, shrill sound. "You wouldn't. You love Caleb too much! If you call the police, he will hate you forever!"

The last syllable leaves her mouth.

My thumb hits the green button.

Immediately.

I didn't want to risk waiting even one second