CHAPTER 2: I'D RATHER EAT SHIT
The first time I set eyes on Nathan Ashford, I was sixteen. He’d just transferred to my school, and I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He was gorgeous, and smart, and popular, and talented, and I loved him.
We’d had a couple of classes together, and I saw enough of him at the football games he dominated and at all the dance courts he won.
But then, in senior year, my lab partner’s boyfriend, a member of the football team, threw a party, and she forced me to go. I didn’t realize that as the glorified nerd I was, I would stick out like a sore thumb.
And when it came time to play the stereotypical truth or dare game, as a joke, someone dared me to kiss the boy I found the most attractive.
And when I stupidly went to kiss Nathan, he jumped away like I had a contagious disease. Then declared to the whole party—the whole school, basically—that he would rather eat shit than kiss me.
I finished out the rest of my high school days as a laughingstock with a broken heart.
“April?”
I blink, turning to Louise. “Huh?”
Her eyebrows furrow in concern. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I turn back to the TV screen. “I knew his last name was Ashford, but I didn’t think it was the Ashford,” I mumble.
“You know one of them?”
“Know is a strong word,” I answer, sinking into the couch, unable to take my eyes off Nathan.
This man in the expensive dark suit—he looks nothing like the boy I knew in high school. His formerly unruly curly locks are cut short and styled perfectly on his head. The playful smirk and swagger he always had is gone, replaced with a stoic stance and inherent poise of a billionaire heir.
If a family could own a city, then the Ashfords would own Chicago. They own everything from businesses to hotels to schools, libraries, and real estate. Even politics—there hasn’t been a candidate the Ashford backed up who didn’t win an election. There are even rumors that they run the city’s underworld as well—night clubs, drug and arms trade…the works.
And now, they’re looking for brides.
The thought of some gorgeous woman applying—of Nathan marrying her, makes my heart clench in my chest.
“April, your face is red.”
I turn to Louise. “Hmm?”
She smirks slightly. “You should apply.”
I blink. “What?”
She nods towards the TV. Marisol Ashford is giving details about the bridal selection process. “You should apply, to marry whichever one of them has you looking all flustered.”
I chuckle nervously, standing up. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Lou stands and moves towards me, grinning mischievously. “If you win—if you marry an Ashford, you’re set for life.”
I scoff, “I could give you a dictionary’s worth of reasons why that’s a bad idea.”
She cocks her hips, hands akimbo. “I’m listening.”
“First, I’m only twenty-one; I still have three semesters of school to go.”
“No one said you had to drop out. Plus, your tuition problem would be taken care of.”
I roll my eyes. “And what about June?”
“I’ll take care of June. And again, if you marry an Ashford, all your medical issues are taken care of. Hell, she could take a bath in Insulin if she wanted.”
I laugh. I can’t deny that there’s appeal in what she’s saying. If I married Nathan, all my life’s problems would be solved.
Me, kiss you? I’d rather eat shit.
I scoff, shaking my head. “There are hundreds of gorgeous, eligible girls in Chicago; never in a million years would he choose me.”
Louise sighs. “April—”
“That’s enough, Lou. I’m exhausted; goodnight.”
Without giving her a chance to protest, I head to my room.
With only the subtle glow of the moon for light, June looks tiny curled up on our bed.
I toe off my sneakers and head towards her, not caring to undress further. I climb into bed and curl myself around my nine-year-old sister. She stirs but doesn’t wake, and I bury my head in her neck and inhale her familiar scent.
My baby sister—the only family I have left in this world. The only family I need.
“Truth or dare, April?”
Feeling severely uncomfortable and nervous, I shrug. “Dare.”
The girl smirks. “I dare you to kiss the most attractive guy in the room.”
Of their own accord, my eyes flit to Nathan, leaning back on his hands, watching the game with lazy interest.
The alcohol in my veins making me bold and stupid, I move on all fours, crawling towards him. He realizes I’m headed for him, and his eyebrows raise, mildly amused.
Ooohs and aaahs erupt around us as I stop in front of him. Nathan smirks as he moves, reaching out to cup my face.
He presses his soft, pink lips against mine, and I sigh, feeling a thousand butterflies erupt in my belly.
Then he pulls away, and those beautiful, lush lips curl into a wicked smirk as he whispers, “I’d still rather eat shit than marry you.”
I gasp softly as my eyes fly open. In the dark, I make out my sister’s big grey eyes, exactly like mine.
“Did you have a bad dream, Spring?” June asks softly, using her pet name for me. Because spring is in April…
I smile, nodding. “But it’s no big deal, Summer; I’m sorry I woke you.” …and summer’s in June.
She shakes her head, and a small hand caresses my cheek. “It’s okay.” Then, from underneath her, she pulls out a pink bunny—her favorite thing in the world. She’s too old for it but holds on to it with maternal ferocity.
“If you snuggle with Bun Bun, you won’t have any nightmares.”
Smiling, I take the bunny. “Thanks, hon.” I kiss her forehead. “Go back to sleep,” I whisper against her skin.
She snuggles into me, and seconds later, her breath evens out.
I stay awake, though, staring at a spot on the floor illuminated by a shaft of moonlight.
In my pocket, my phone buzzes; I didn’t even realize I didn’t remove it before climbing into bed.
I fish it out and stare at the bright screen. Underneath the notification of a shift switch for tomorrow is a news article—a notice of the bridal selection, along with rules of entry and qualifications.
I sigh, turning the device off.
Louise is being silly. I could never apply; I would never win.
Marrying Nathan Ashford is a foolish, foolish pipe dream. If not for the way he treated me in school, then for the fact that he’s practically a prince, set up on a high pedestal I have no chance in hell of ever reaching.
Before I drift away into sleep, I wonder briefly: who will win? Which girl will surpass all the requirements and ultimately win Nathan Ashford’s heart?
I wasn’t good enough for him. I wonder who is.