Alison Jade Jorgensen had it all - wealth, beauty, and the adoration of those around her. At eighteen, she was the epitome of privilege, shielded from the harsh realities of life by her affluent family.
But when her beloved grandfather passes away j...
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Megan Batoon as Elizabeth 'Lizzy' Jorgensen
JADE
I felt my patience wearing thin as his voice sounded behind me. It was the guy I had been avoiding, and I could already feel my annoyance rising to the surface.
"The last thing I remember, I was calling out for Chandler," I snapped, refusing to turn around and face him.
I heard him chuckle, but it did little to diffuse my irritation. I wasn't in the mood for another argument, and I wasn't going to let him get the best of me this time.
"Chandler's not here, so you'll have to deal with me," he continued, his tone laced with smugness.
I finally spun around to face him, ready to leave the scene. "My parents taught me not to talk to strangers," I shot back, my eyes involuntarily drawn to the tattoos on his arms that were so far beyond my control.
As I looked at him, I noticed that he wasn't wearing the same coat he had on the first time we met. Instead, he wore a plain white shirt that revealed his arms, which were covered in tattoos of different shapes and figures. "Especially to those who like to break the rules," I said, my eyes meeting his burning gaze.
His stare made me feel small and insignificant, despite the fact that I stood just inches away from him. He was taller than me, and his tattoos only added to his intimidating presence.
But instead of being intimidated, he responded with his signature smirk. He looked down briefly before meeting my gaze again, that smirk still playing at the corners of his lips.
"Let me tell you my name so I won't be a stranger anymore," he said.
I was about to walk away and ignore him, but his words stopped me in my tracks. "No thanks," I said dismissively.
He didn't seem deterred by my lack of interest. "I'm Jared," he said, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
"Did I ask?" I retorted, making it clear that I wasn't going to engage in conversation with him.
"You know, you don't have to be harsh on me all the time. You still owe me an apology, remember?" His nonchalant tone was familiar, reminding me of the day when I accidentally bumped into him and caused him to drop all those cans of spray paint.
I felt my anger rising again as he mentioned the apology I supposedly owed him. "If I met you under any other circumstance, I would gladly apologize but to actually see you destroying a piece of my family's property? It won't make me..."
He cut me off, looking at the wall beside us with a smirk. "Is this how you destroy things nowadays?"
I was confused by his response. "What are you trying to say?"
