Ella’s POV:
Okay, so maybe Max wasn’t as helpless as I pegged him to be. He actually waited for until my shift ended, and I was almost impressed. Jason and Dylan had already left—Dylan had to take the drunken, pissed-off Jason ho. Max was all smiles, practically bouncing on his heels with excitent.
Taking the extra helt he handed , I couldn’t help but curse Jason under my breath. *This is all his fault!* If he hadn’t annoyed so much, I wouldn’t be stuck in this predicant, going out with Max of all people.
As we hit the road, Max drove so slowly that I couldn’t help but burst into laughter. "Seriously, Max, are you trying to give a nap back here? You drive like an old man!"
Max shot a mock offended look, his eyes wide with feigned indignation. "Hey! This is a high-powered machine! You don’t just rush into things like a reckless teenager!"
"Oh please," I teased. "If I wanted a tortoise ride, I’d have stayed at the diner."
After a few more minutes of teasing, he finally took my ribbing and sped up a little. I felt the wind whipping through my hair and couldn’t help but grin. But then, suddenly, he went a little ahead before stopping completely.
Turning his head around, he removed his helt with a flourish and challenged , "Wanna give it a go?"
His smirk said he knew I wouldn’t agree. And being the girl who never backed down from a challenge wasn’t about to start now. I had ridden motorbikes a lot in my high school days, much to my father’s displeasure.
"Sure," I said confidently, climbing off the bike. "But first, you need to move back a bit. I’ll show you how a pro does it."
Max rolled his eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. "A pro, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it." He moved back, a teasing grin still plastered on his face.
As I settled onto the bike, I adjusted the helt and felt the familiar thrill bubbling inside . I kicked the bike to life and revved the engine, the sound roaring beneath like music. "Hold on tight!" I called back, and he let out a whoop of excitent, clambering onto the seat behind .
"Just don’t kill us!" he laughed nervously.
"Don’t worry, I’ve got this!" I assured him, feeling exhilarated as I accelerated forward.
We zipped through the streets, and I could hear Max laughing behind . "Okay, maybe you’re not such a bad driver after all!"
I smirked, loving the rush of speed. "Maybe? You’ll have to admit I’m better than you!"
He tightened his arms around my waist, and my heart skipped a beat at the sudden intimacy. "Alright, you’re definitely better than !"
We weaved through the streets, and I felt free. The wind tugged at my hair, and I couldn’t help but laugh as Max’s laughter echoed in my ears. It felt good—really good—to let go of the stress and just enjoy the ride.
After a while, I spotted a quiet park and decided to slow down, pulling into a nearby parking lot. I turned off the engine and looked over at Max, who had a goofy grin plastered on his face.
"That was amazing!" he exclaid, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "You really are a pro!"
I couldn’t help but smile at his excitent. "Thanks! But you should probably work on your driving skills if you want to keep up with ."
He chuckled, the sound infectious. "Maybe I’ll just stick to being your passenger. You make it look too easy."
"Well, if you’re not careful, I might just leave you behind on the next ride!" I teased, tossing my hair over my shoulder dramatically.
Max laughed again, and in that mont, the tension from earlier lted away. It was just us, two friends enjoying a night out.
"Hey, want to grab so ice cream or sothing?" he suggested, still grinning.
"Only if you promise not to drive like an old man this ti!" I shot back, and he nodded, looking determined.
"Deal!"
As we walked toward the ice cream stand, I felt light and carefree, a smile plastered on my face. Despite the craziness that had led here, I was genuinely enjoying myself. And for the first ti in a while, I felt like maybe this was exactly where I was supposed to be.
Max’s POV:
Oh shit, who would’ve thought that I, Max Carter, would actually enjoy hanging out with a girl without just thinking about getting her into bed? Elly—man, she completely blew my mind. She wasn’t like the other girls I’ve been around. She wasn’t trying to be all girly, batting her eyelashes, or acting helpless just to get to notice her. No, she was sothing else.
I had teased her, thinking she’d play the part like most girls—act all cute and say, "Oh, Max, I can’t drive this thing!" or whatever. But nope. She didn’t even flinch. She hopped onto my motorbike like she had sothing to prove. And damn, did she prove it. She drove like a pro. That wasn’t just hot—it was unexpected, refreshing even.
For the first ti in... I don’t even know how long, I wasn’t just thinking about banging a girl while we hung out. As we sat there, eating ice cream and laughing, I felt different—like I was genuinely enjoying the mont. Elly wasn’t trying to impress , stroke my ego, or hang around because of my dad’s na, my friendship with Jason, or so la status thing. Most girls just wanted to say they were with for the bragging rights. But Elly? She was curious about . She asked real questions, actually wanted to know what I was into, what I wanted to do after campus.
Everyone assus I’m going to follow in my dad’s footsteps and join the family business—hell, that’s what I’m studying, business. But no one’s ever asked if that’s what I ’want’. Not Dylan, not Jason, not even my parents. When I told Elly I wanted to go into entertainnt, she didn’t laugh or act surprised. She just listened, nodded, and encouraged to go after what I want. She even offered to help, though it was kind of funny. I an, she’s just managing to hold onto her waitress job—how could she help with my career? Still, her offer wasn’t empty. She genuinely wanted to support , and that... that felt different.
I didn’t try anything with her. I couldn’t. I felt guilty even thinking about the bet with the guys. The way she was talking to , the way we were vibing—I wasn’t about to ruin that by trying to get in her pants.
When the night was over, she had drop her off a few blocks away from her place. She said she didn’t want to know where she lived, and I respected that. It wasn’t like she was being shady or anything; I could tell she just wanted her privacy, and I could appreciate that.
As I rode back to my place, I texted the group: **Mission failed.** And, of course, Dylan started laughing at , probably happy that he still had a shot with her. We teased each other, saying the ga wasn’t over yet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was betraying Elly. She wasn’t just so bet, not anymore.
I shook myself, reminding myself that this was supposed to be a stupid ga. A bet. Sothing to be won. But I couldn’t help feeling like maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to win this one. Not if it ant hurting her.
Jason’s POV:
Stupid waitress. Stupid hoodie girl. Stupid Elly—Ella—whatever she calls herself. Fuck, I can’t believe I got drunk because of her. She was ssing with my head, twisting my thoughts, driving crazy, and it pissed off. I was still fuming even after waking up with a pounding headache an hour later.
I grabbed my phone, hoping for so kind of relief, so news that maybe Elly had ditched Max halfway through their stupid date. But no, there was nothing. No update. No alert. No text. Nothing. My mind wandered to the worst possible scenario—what if Max had chard her and was screwing her right now? The thought of Max and Elly together made my blood boil. I wanted to punch sothing. No, I needed to do more than that.
Fury fueling , I grabbed my laptop, ready to unleash my revenge. She wanted to play gas? Fine. Let’s play. I found the photo I had of her in the diner, that stupid waitress uniform. Then, I paired it with the image of her in her hoodie. It was perfect. I created an anonymous, untraceable post on the school website, connecting the dots for everyone to see—Hoodie Girl and the waitress were the sa person.
I didn’t stop there. No. I spun the story further, adding just the right amount of venom. I implied she was hiding her face under the hoodie because she was ashad of being a poor, low-class beggar who didn’t belong at our elite university. I knew how people in this school would react. They thrived on tearing others down, especially soone they thought didn’t belong in their world.
There. That’ll teach her. I clicked "post," closed my laptop, and leaned back, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction. She should’ve never ssed with . Disobeyed . I had warned her, and now she was getting exactly what she deserved.
I stood up, grabbed so aspirin and water, and downed them to soothe my headache. After a few minutes, I checked the school website, and sure enough, my post was already trending. Hundreds of views, dozens of comnts piling up. The backlash had begun. People were calling her out, mocking her, tearing her apart. Good. Let her feel the humiliation.
But then, my phone buzzed. I opened the group chat, and there it was. Max had texted: **Mission failed.**
I stared at the ssage for a second, stunned. Failed?
That ant she hadn’t let Max in, hadn’t fallen for his charms. She didn’t sleep with him. A wave of relief hit , but it was imdiately followed by guilt. What had I just done? I had already set the wheels in motion. The post was live, and the damage was done.
Fuck.
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