•How Would I Know•

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Haileys pov
"Jackson hold on" I said catching him on the way to lunch "oh Hailey hi" "what you said last time did you mean it" "about you and Rory" "yea" "uh yea" "what changed. It was fine when I was just dating Isaac. Did you feel left out or something" "left out no. I didn't care about that and I've been thinking about it since you said you liked Isaac. I saw it coming" "so what. He hasn't hurt me so why is it a problem" "wasn't he arrested recently" "he didn't do anything and how do you know that" "news spread. Look Hailey I just don't want to be involved with you and Rory and I'm not changing my mind" "I wasn't asking you change your mind, I just wanted to understand why you couldn't be happy for us after everything we helped you through. Bye I guess" I said walking past him.

"Hey, where were you" Rory asked as I sat down "I was talking to Jackson" "for what" "I just thought maybe he'd have a better reason for acting like that than he didn't want to be involved somehow" "yea I don't know what got into him. Maybe it's Christopher, you know him and Callie broke up because she found out he was gay" "oh I didn't know, maybe though" "well don't wast too much time worrying about it. If you're happy that's what matters" "yea I guess you're right" "I am. You're coming to Rickys party right" she asked changing the subject "yea I am" "okay good. Look just forget about the Jackson thing we don't need him" she said smiling. I knew she was right but I felt like somehow we were hurting him. I put it out of my brain and went along with my day just ready to go home.

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"Why don't you just come home with me" Isaac asked as we pulled out of the parking lot "because all of my stuff is at home" "so we'll go pick it up, either way we'd have to go to your house so why not just come back with me" "true, wait don't you have something to do today" "yea but it shouldn't take that long" "what is it" "I have to go get a check from Anthony's parents since they're going out of town tomorrow" "you're taking it to Sydney" "yea I was gonna go see her anyways for a little while" "okay, well sure I'll come" "okay good" he said squeezing my thigh a little.

"Hey is it okay if I stay at Isaacs tonight and tomorrow" I asked mom as we got inside "yea sure. Sunday you're brother has baseball do you mind taking him" "no I'll come get him" "okay thanks".
We went upstairs and I started grabbing stuff for the party. I packed a Versace skirt and crop top that came in a set and nude stilettos to match. I got some other stuff like underwear and makeup, stuff for my hair and a regular change of clothes.
"Ready" he asked looking up from his phone "yea" "okay" he said grabbing the bag and following me out of the room.

"Have fun and be careful you two" mom said "we will. Love you, bye mom" I said "bye Mrs. Moore" "bye".

"You'll be okay here right" Isaac asked as we got to his room "yea of course" "I'll only be gone for about an hour" "yea I know. Isaac go I'm fine" "okay call if you need anything" he said kissing me before leaving.

I went to his walk in closet to hang up my skirt up so it wouldn't wrinkle. I'd never actually looked around in here which was shocking because even though he hated it, I always looked around and touched his stuff.

It was actually a lot bigger than I thought, this place was a fucking room. On one side he had suits and ties and dress shoes, the fancy stuff the other side had jackets and hoodies and sweats and sneakers and stuff. There was a watch case. He had Rolex's, Patek Phillipes, Casablancas, Audemar Piguets, and so much more. He had rings, bracelets and necklaces too, some of which I've seen him add to his normal arrowhead necklace and daily set of rings and Cuban link and leather braided bracelets. I'd never realized how much he accessorizes but now that I think about, it's really fucking hot.
In the corner of the room was a small shelf that held more shoes and two safes. I wondered what he had in there but I wasn't sure if he would tell me. Worst case scenario it would be someone's rotting head but I doubt it.

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