Always You ✔

17 chapter

Sebrina's P.O.V.

The party was finally over, and Nadia dropped me home. After checking on Polo, who was snoring like a bulldozer, I dragged myself to my room, threw on my pajamas, and wiped off my makeup. Bed was calling my name, and I was ready to answer.

But of course, my brain decided to play a highlight reel of the club, starring Austin and that kiss. Damn, it was amazing. But I wasn't about to let my brain or my hormones run the show. Austin's not the kind of guy who does commitment-more like "thanks for the fun, see you never." And me? Not in the market for a casual fling or someone who's more emotionally unavailable than Wi-Fi in a blackout.

Besides, there's that tiny little detail where his girlfriend is cheating on him with his brother. Oof. Soap operas have nothing on my life.

And now? Now, I have to figure out how I'm supposed to face Austin after that mind-blowing kiss. Maybe I'll just... fake amnesia? Yeah, that could work.

The Next Morning...

I woke up feeling like I'd wrestled with a bear in my sleep, but it was worth it-beauty sleep achieved. After dragging myself through my morning routine, I wandered into the kitchen, just as Polo skidded in like a puppy with way too much energy.

"You're not dressed yet? We're going shopping, remember?" Polo gave me a look that was a mix of disgust and betrayal, like I'd just eaten the last slice of pizza without telling him.

"Relax," I mumbled. "I'll get ready after breakfast."

Polo crossed his arms. "Seriously, if you're not ready in fifteen minutes, I'm leaving you behind. And by the way, I'm taking your snacks as hostage."

I raised an eyebrow. "You touch my snacks, and I'll cancel Christmas."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just hurry up."

After breakfast, I changed into something casual-a knit cardigan and jeans. When I finally yelled, "I'm ready," Polo appeared in front of me faster than a caffeine-fueled squirrel.

"What took you so long? You picking an outfit or summoning the wardrobe gods?"

"None of your business," I shot back. "Let's just go."

We arrived at the mall, and Polo was like a man on a mission. He dragged me from one store to the next, acting like my personal stylist. Except his version of "help" involved holding up clothes that looked like they were from the discount bin of a 90s sitcom.

"Polo, stop. My legs are about to give out."

He threw me an exasperated look. "I'm putting in all this effort to make you look like a functioning adult, and you're complaining about walking? Pathetic."

"Remind me again why I haven't replaced you with a less dramatic sibling?"

"Because I'm the only one who tolerates your terrible life decisions. You're welcome."

The Bookstore Saga

After what felt like ten years in the mall, Polo finally dragged me to the bookstore. He dove into the shelves, searching for his books, while I stood there like a confused tourist. It took all of two minutes before I was bored out of my mind.