Chapter 4 The Flower Shop
Olivia was stunned.
"Who? Charles? I... don't know him."
They'd only talked for the first time that morning—did that even count as knowing each other?
At most, they were classmates who'd met once.
"Stop playing dumb!"
Lily pointed toward the room.
"Look!"
Olivia followed her finger, and her eyes went wide.
In her makeshift vase—a clean old glass jar by the window—sat a huge bouquet of golden sunflowers, the exact same ones Charles had bought at the flower shop that morning!
"This..."
Olivia was speechless.
"Charles had someone deliver them! Right to our dorm!"
Lily excitedly grabbed her arm.
"But here's the crazy part—guess who he got to deliver them?"
Olivia felt her stomach drop, sensing trouble.
"Mia Wilson!"
Lily's voice got even quieter, with a hint of pity.
"She just came up here with the flowers, looking absolutely pissed! Slammed them on your desk and stormed out."
"And when she mentioned Charles's name, that look in her eyes... if looks could kill!"
Mia was their roommate—rich family, drama queen personality—and her crush on Charles was campus-wide news. She was the most vocal and most dangerous of Charles's many admirers.
Olivia felt ice creep up her spine.
This was bad.
She'd planned to avoid going back to the Williams place—that suffocating house—and hide out in the dorm for a few peaceful days.
Now it looked like the dorm had become a danger zone, too.
Sure enough.
The first class that afternoon was PE.
During free time, Olivia was looking for a quiet corner to sit when Mia, flanked by two of her usual crew, cut right into her path.
Mia was decked out in the latest limited-edition athletic wear, arms crossed, chin up, her eyes slicing over Olivia's worn canvas sneakers and plain T-shirt like daggers.
"Olivia."
Mia's voice was sharp and icy, not bothering to hide her contempt and hostility.
"I'm warning you—stay the hell away from Charles!"
Olivia pressed her lips together and stayed quiet.
"Don't you know your place?"
One of the girls next to Mia smirked.
"You're just some stray the Williams family took in, and you think you can get close to Charles?"
"Right. John can't even stand you, and now you're trying to hook up with Charles?"
Mia stepped closer, her perfectly manicured finger practically touching Olivia's nose as she laid down the law:
"Toss those flowers! And from now on, when you see Charles, go the other way! If I catch you sniffing around him again, or if he sends you any more random crap..."
She smiled nastily, her eyes full of menace.
"I promise I'll make sure you can't stay at this school or that flower shop! We clear?"
Mia was absolutely livid—and who could blame her when Charles, who never gave girls the time of day, suddenly sent Olivia flowers out of nowhere?
After her little speech, Mia roughly shouldered past Olivia and strutted off with her posse.
Olivia stumbled back a step, her back hitting the cold wall.
She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms.
Anger boiled in her chest, but more than that was a cold, helpless feeling.
How was she supposed to know why Charles sent her flowers?
They'd only met once—it made zero sense!
Olivia watched the crowd running and laughing on the field. The sunlight was blazing, but she felt frozen to the bone.
These problems seemed unavoidable ever since Indigo married into the Williams family.
When the bell finally rang, Olivia got up and bolted.
She really couldn't handle being in that gym for another second.
Next class was some pointless cultural appreciation course, which she decided to ditch.
Right now, she had to track down Charles and ask him what the hell he was thinking.
After all, they'd only met once—he really didn't need to help her out.
Before leaving home that morning, Olivia had caught the household staff telling John that his basketball shoes were by the door.
John and Charles were joined at the hip, and Charles, being a senior with a lighter course load, meant they were probably at the basketball court.
Olivia jogged all the way to the courts.
There were tons of people there—players, spectators—loud and chaotic.
She frantically scanned the crowd for those two familiar tall figures.
After looking everywhere, she came up empty. They weren't there.
Olivia felt pretty bummed and was debating whether to bail when several guys in jerseys with a rough, street-smart vibe spotted her.
Standing courtside, her slim figure, smooth, clear skin, and clean but slightly defiant features stood out like a sore thumb against the sweaty basketball court, drawing stares.
"Hey! Gorgeous!"
One of them, a guy with dyed red hair, swaggered over with a grin, blocking her way.
Olivia looked up at him, sizing him up, and couldn't help thinking coldly to herself.
With that look, he was basically a thug.