Chapter 367 Meeting
This was the last of the eight big-ass paintings, the grand finale of the series. The first seven? Nailed it. And I was super picky with this one.
I was deep in my art zone when a sudden roar made me jump, and my hand slipped. Lucky for me, I've got mad skills and lifted the brush just in time to dodge a disaster.
"Adam, have you lost your mind?" I barely had time to yell before I saw Adam, phone in hand, screaming at someone. He was standing there, chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon. No clue who was on the other end, but Adam looked like he was ready to explode.
I never thought Adam could get this pissed; it was kinda scary.
I put down my brush and walked over to chill him out, telling him to take it easy and deal with whatever was bothering him calmly. This was school, after all; better to hash it out at home or somewhere private.
When I got close enough to see his face, the words just stuck in my throat. I'd never seen Adam this furious before.
Adam spat out, "You've done all the dirty crap you could; now what's your game? Whether you croak from illness or pain, it's got nothing to do with anyone else. Stop playing the victim; no one's buying it anymore. After all your shameless stunts, you've lost any shred of trust you might have had. Alright, I've got stuff to do. Take care of yourself."
He hung up, glaring at the phone until the screen went dark. He spat angrily, "Rotten bastard, why don't you just die of pain; you deserve it."
Seeing him all righteously pissed off, I couldn't help but smirk a bit.
Alright, since Adam and I were pretty much on the same wavelength, I'd call him a good friend.
Jenny made such a big scene in front of everyone. I thought she'd wait for Professor Evans' response all high and mighty and then watch Brad jump through hoops for her. Didn't expect her to hit me up privately.
I thought, 'What's her deal? She probably wants to throw down and use her dirty tricks to mess with me. Whatever, I gotta go. I could totally ignore it, but knowing your enemy is key. Plus, I wanna see what Jenny's up to.'
I shot Brad a message about my plans and then headed out solo to meet Jenny.
Jenny's a weird one. Normally, you'd meet at a coffee shop or something, where it's chill and you can talk. But she picked the cafeteria.
When I got there, it wasn't mealtime, so just a few students were hanging around. Jenny was by the window, chin in hand, staring outside like she was in some deep, lonely thought.
She looked all sad and lonely. If we weren't rivals, I might've felt a bit sorry for her.
But she deserved it. She'd brought it upon herself. My pity was pointless.
Jenny didn't need it, and I didn't want to give it. If I could, I'd wish Jenny straight to hell.
Jenny heard my footsteps and turned around, giving me a once-over before smiling and pointing to the seat across from her. "Jane, you're here. Have a seat."
I secretly rolled my eyes and chose to sit diagonally across from her.
It wasn't that I had a problem with the seat she pointed to, but I wasn't about to let her boss me around. This wasn't her turf; I'd sit wherever I damn well pleased.
I had my own way of doing things; Jenny had no right to meddle.
"So, what do you want, Jenny?" I cut straight to the chase.
"What would you like to drink?" Jenny dodged my question, stirring her juice with a tiny spoon like she was in some fancy café. It was juice, but she was acting like it was a latte.
I glanced around, feeling a bit exasperated. Who stirs juice with a spoon? What kind of weird combo was that?
Did Jenny think this was an ice cream parlor or a coffee shop? No matter how graceful she tried to be, it just looked ridiculous.
"My time's limited, Jenny. If you called me here just for a drink, I'll have to thank you and bounce," I said, already feeling my patience wearing thin.
Jenny didn't look too happy with my attitude. But maybe because of the setting, she kept it civil. "Your talent is really impressive. I just found out yesterday that you have a project on par with the Taylor family. It really surprised me."
I quickly read between the lines. No way was she just complimenting me.
"Jenny, you're too kind. I always believe that for a couple to stay in love, they need common interests and to grow together. You know how amazing my boyfriend is. If I were worthless, how could I be worthy of Brad? Wouldn't people laugh at me for overestimating myself and laugh at his poor judgment? Don't you think that's reasonable, Jenny?"
Jenny nodded, seemingly agreeing. "Brad is indeed outstanding, but such an outstanding man deserves better. For a man to succeed, he needs strong support and assistance. So, for him, having a girlfriend who can support him financially and in terms of influence is what he needs most."
I replied, "You have more life experience than I do and naturally see things from a higher perspective. Unfortunately, you still don't get that the person a man constantly thinks about, wants to keep by his side forever, and feels joy whenever he sees, is the one he truly needs. Love tainted with money and material desires is dirty and unsatisfactory. My Brad is proud and would consider relying on a woman for success an insult. He'd rather die than accept it."
Jenny's face twisted; she lost her previous calm and got visibly irritated. Her brows furrowed, and the disgust in her eyes was clear.
"Alright, I'm not here to argue with you. I wanted to tell you that Brad is just temporarily confused. Once he comes to his senses, he will definitely be mine. Since we are schoolmates and have known each other for years, I advise you to step aside. Youth is short, and it's a pity to waste it. When Brad personally dumps you, I'm afraid you won't handle it well and might do something embarrassing, making things difficult for Brad."
Jenny spoke like Brad had already fallen for her and was about to kick me to the curb.
Jenny's imagination was something else. She probably dreamed of Brad falling for her, loving her, and wanting to be with her. But dreams are just dreams; they vanish the moment you wake up.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
