One Night

The One Where I Learnt The Truth

Oh, no, this cannot be happening. It just can't. Not again. Not twice in one day.

Hearing my name, I spun and came face to face with Markus Levine, only this time he was flying solo without his new girlfriend. His eyes were wide against mine, almost like he was shocked to see me here.

"Hi," was the next word out of his mouth.

For some reason, his nonchalant greeting made me want to punch him, hard, in the face. After all this time, after the way he ended things between us, all the jerk could say was 'Hi'? Really, that's all I was worth to him? Red rage clouded my judgement that second and I reached my hand up to do what came to me instinctively. I slapped the asshole, bringing my hand down against his cheek with a loud, reverberating crack.

"Whoa, that felt good," I say, a sadistic smile forming on my lips when I see the red mark my palm had left on his cheek. There was even some blood thanks to my ring catching against his skin. When I saw Markus' glare on me, I couldn't help but give him a hardened look in return. "Oh, I'm sorry, did that hurt? Good, if it did."

"Peyton," Markus practically growled at me, his grip on my arm tightening as he started to pull me away from the audience we'd acquired. He dragged me down the town hall steps and out towards the square where the first of the carol singers were stood around the Christmas tree. When he saw that we were a good distance away from another audience, but still close enough so that we had witnesses should I decide to hit him again, Markus let go of his hold on me. "I think you and I should talk."

I scoffed. "Talk? Now? Well, news flash," I made a sort of flashing signal with my hands. "Talking would have been good six months ago, you know, when you broke up with me. I think we're past having a little chat, don't you?"

I think Markus Levine must have been dropped on the head as a baby, because that's truly the only reason I can think of for his stupidity right now. It was obvious that I didn't want to talk to him, but from the dark look he gave me, he didn't seem to care. He wanted to talk, and that was that.

"You have to let me explain myself," he said, suddenly looking nervous. His nervousness made me feel nervous and it wasn't a feeling I liked very much. "You're right, we should have talked... I mean, I should have explained that night, but I just couldn't. But, I can now, so please let me."

Once again, I had a strong desire to punch Markus, but I restrained myself. Walking to the nearest bench, I sit and wait for him to start telling me his reasons behind the break up. Markus slowly walked over to where I sat and took the space next to me as his eyes fixed on something ahead of him.

"You're going to hate me," he starts, rubbing his hands wearily over his eyes. "I mean, you hate me already, but you'll hate me even more once I tell you the truth. Okay, Peyton, here goes. I only dated you because of a bet."

His words linger in the silence between us as the meaning behind what Markus said began to sink in.

"Bet?" I yelled.

Dating me was some bet to him?

My heart raced at the idea that I'd been some sort of pawn in a game and my stomach churned. Who on Earth would date someone for a bet? Well, the answer was sitting right in front of me, but why would he do that? My mind whirled with the news and for some irrational reason, my thoughts quickly turned to who was involved in the damned thing- apart from Markus- and a small voice in the back of my mind had to enquire whether or not Elliott Anthony had anything to do with it. I mean, stranger things have happened, and he is the notorious playboy over at St. FX, so wouldn't it make sense on some level that he'd be involved in something as stupid and degrading as this?