Felix

Upon walking into the reunion, I was instantly reminded of all the reasons I despise Olivia Hernandez.

There are certain things that no one wants to hear when they're an insecure high school boy.

Especially from their best friend, from the person they thought could be their soulmate.

And especially not in front of an audience in the school hall.

"Oh, Felix, that was so pathetic. I mean I know you're trying to be sweet, but... Major cringe."

Those simple words had punched a hole in my stomach that I could still feel on my bad days. A torpedo to my shaky, teenage self-esteem. They also marked the beginning of months of torture and doubt, which culminated with the ultimate betrayal.

Sweet... Yes, I used to be sweet. Not that it mattered when I was also cringe. Not just simple cringe either. Major cringe. Cringe enough to warrant that nickname that Jenna Darcy still remembers even ten years later. Cringey Lixy.

Looking up at Jenna and Olivia, I force a lazy smile on my face, as if that name wasn't still haunting my nightmares.

"Yes, I've been called that before."

"Jenna, that's so rude," Olivia says between her teeth.

"No shit! There's nothing cringey about you. You look amazing!" Jenna sits on the chair next to mine, the one I'm sure should be Olivia's. It enrages her and I do my best not to show how much that pleases me.

"Thank you. So do you."

"Why didn't Betsy mention this to me?"

"It was nice seeing her again. She actually led me to the table herself."

Jenna rolls her eyes. "Of course she did. She hasn't seen dick in ages. I bet she was all over you."

"I assure you she hasn't seen mine either. It's still safely tucked away."

This conversation is fun. Seeing Olivia seething next to my chair, probably thinking about my dick, is even more fun.

"And that's a real shame," Jenna says.

I smirk and wink at her. Olivia is one second away from exploding.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she asks, her voice much too aggressive.

Jenna throws her a look over her shoulder, unimpressed. "You've had him for four years of high school. Give someone else a chance."

"Nonsense, Jenna. Olivia and I never dated. I wasn't..." I stare directly into Olivia's hazel eyes, signaling a dare. "Interesting enough for her. We were just friends."

My words have her cheeks flaming, and she's gritting her teeth. I'm not sure if she's beating herself up for not taking me when she obviously had me, or hating that I called her just a friend.

But that's what we were supposed to be. After everything that happened between us, I don't think she ever actually cared about me, not even one bit. I was maybe convenient, a love-struck puppy always on her heels.

We completely fell apart right after graduation. And yet, she called me six months ago to invite me to the reunion, prattling on as if we were still friends. Where had I been? Why had we ever drifted apart? What happened to us and our wonderful friendship?

Oh, Olivia...You. That's what happened, you. And since you decided to waltz back into my life uninvited and open up old wounds, I took it as a sign. A sign that the check is in and you finally have to pay.

Even if I know it's been forever ago and none of this matters anymore, I can still hear the laughter of the crowd gathered around us in the school hallway as she shut me down, talking much louder than she needed to. How they all supported her in humiliating me just because I dared ask her to prom. Her. My best friend.

The girl I thought was my soulmate, my everything.

I'm convinced that if I hadn't changed so much and wasn't wearing a designer suit, she would be watching me with pity. But now, I have the upper hand and she is wasting away, ignored.

"We were not just friends," Olivia snaps. "We were best friends! And it's time we caught up."

Jenna throws her a disgusted look, and I'm grateful she's doing all the things I wish I could do. "Hmph, if you were such good friends, then why did you plan to hang out with your old posse?"

Olivia's face catches fire. It's hard not to laugh. "Just mind your own business."

Jenna stands, rolling her eyes. "You deserve better," she says to me, and I can't help but agree.

But what Jenna doesn't know is that, this time, I actually have a plan.

I invested some time in learning a million things about art, the stock market, cryptocurrencies and whatever the fuck is popular right now. That was surprisingly harder than working out and dieting to get my new body, because I don't give two shits about bitcoin or the latest fancies of the world's billionaires.

But I did it because now I have everything I need to appear like one of those billionaire CEOs in one of those trashy novels Olivia's probably reading. Property of the CEO Who is Secretly My Baby Daddy or some shit.

Now I have everything I need to woo her and leave her in the dust.

The fucked up part is that I did become a billionaire in the meantime. A mere two weeks ago, my uncle died and left all his businesses and properties to me. I still can't wrap my mind around that one or the Lamborghini I drove here. I haven't even gotten around to telling anyone about it except my best friends and my closest family.

"Oh, please." Olivia rolls her eyes. "You call him that disgusting nickname and then think you have a say?"

Jenna fortunately doesn't answer and scurries away, leaving us alone. Olivia takes advantage by occupying the seat next to mine, most likely trying to prevent anyone else from grabbing my attention.

"She's so annoying. Always has been."

"I know you never liked her."

"She's like a cow wearing a skirt, I swear."

I can't help but narrow my eyes.

I was expecting this, but seeing that she hasn't changed at all still drives a hot knife right through me. It's clear that she has to pay, and that's why I need to teach her a lesson. So she can learn that some things in this life can't just be thrown away like garbage.

And once she does, maybe I can finally put my demons to rest and see myself as a worthy human being. Not just some gum she chewed up and spat out when it lost its taste.

"You're being unnecessarily mean." I try to smile. "I guess some things never change."

She huffs and crosses her arms under her chest, bringing her cleavage in full view. God, she's as attractive as ever. I wish her looks could reflect her rotten interior, but as it is, she's an apparition draped in olive silk.

"And some things do. A lot. How did this happen?"

I raise my eyebrows, pretending I don't know what she's talking about. "This being what?"

"You getting so hot."

I know she thinks she's complimenting me, but she's offensive as fuck. In usual circumstances, I'd call her out on it and tell her that there's a lot more to a person than looks, but at the moment, I need her to think I'm hot. I need her to want me. Desperately.

So I lean back, joining my hands behind my head. The shirt stretches over my chest and I can see her eyes trailing my torso, looking for any signs of a gut. There's none. I've been drinking very little water for days just to make sure my muscles pop.

"I guess I grew up," I say, a condescending smile on my face.

Her eyes shoot up to mine again, and there's a bit of panic there. I wonder when she'll come clean that she hasn't amounted to much.

"We all grew up." She flips her dark chestnut waves over her shoulder.

It draws my gaze to her exposed skin, especially when she leans in a little closer and I get a better view of her cleavage. Yes, she's flirting. I've seen her doing this with Jake Curry before prom. Shoving her breasts in his face was how she got him to take her in the first place.

"I know I've said it before, but you look stunning," I offer.

"So do you."

I smirk to show that I know I look great. This kind of confidence works on her. She's never been one for humility.

The silence stretches between us and I wait for it to get awkward. I'm not giving her anything. Easy would just make her lose interest. She keeps staring at me, but after a while, she realizes it's too much, because she glances around.

"Weak turnout."

"I can't say I care much. High school is a time of my life I'm glad I left behind."

"Yes, of course," she says quickly. "It's so much better being a grownup. Independent and... Um... Life being an adventure and everything."

You poor, poor liar. You long for high school because it was the only time you were actually relevant.

I just smile. "Yes, an adventure is the appropriate word."

"What have you been up to?"

"Not much, really. Went to college, got into some start up dealing mostly with professional editing and copyright, and now I just work."

"Just work?" She once again leans in a little closer, obviously concluding that I'm single.

I shrug. "I don't have time for much else."

A triumphant smile lights her face and she leans back. "Editing, huh? Didn't you want to be a famous writer or something?"

Or something indeed. I shared my dreams and my first drafts with her and now she's acting as if it was nothing but a little side hobby all along. Had she ever paid any attention to me or was I just too infatuated?

But I can't dwell on our past, not when what I'm seeing only further justifies my ploy. She doesn't know this yet, but I did manage to get a publishing deal before becoming a billionaire. I'm not proud of my book, but it's commercial and engaging and filled with passion.

I don't want to share this with her. I don't want to tell her anything real or important. She's not part of my life anymore and she never will be again. I'm only here to teach her a lesson. So I lie.

"Yeah, but that's not for me. It turns out I'm a lot more pragmatic than I thought." Before the words are out, my phone starts ringing.

It's an alarm I set for precisely this moment, but I stare at my screen gravely, as if the president himself is calling me.

"I'm sorry. I have to take this." So I stop the alarm and pretend to listen. Then I spew some technical mumbo-jumbo about investing and the stock market and hang up.

To an educated person, what I said makes no sense. To Olivia Hernandez who wouldn't know economics if they hit her in the face, it probably sounds like I'm a genius.

"Sorry," I say. "Some of our clients are overseas and you can't explain you're at your reunion with a lovely lady."

Olivia blushes. It would be cute if I didn't know she's attracted to this lie I'm feeding her and not to me. Not that I would want her to be.

The real me must be protected from the likes of her at all costs.

"That's fine. Your business took off, didn't it?"

I nod and don't get to say anything else before we're joined by the rejects from the football team. They haven't changed much, a bunch of frat bros who did manage to outgrow high school, but never college.

Most of them have no idea who I used to be in high school, but they're more than happy to include me in their dead-end conversation about cryptocurrencies, conspiracies, and what the current popular billionaires have been up to.

I am prepared for this, so it takes me very little time to gain control of the conversation and impose my arguments over theirs. This powerplay is subtle. Olivia looks so annoyed, because the bros have nothing to say to her besides complimenting her body, so she's left out.

I throw her apologetic smiles and even take her hand under the table, but make no effort to include her in the conversation because I'm supposed to be a macho dude who can't read the room or her feelings.

She doesn't pull away from me. After a while, she scoots her chair closer, making impressive efforts not to move my hand and make me let her go. After a while, I turn from the latest conspiracy theory debate and give her a hopeful look. I have to let her "save" me from the boring conversation.

She doesn't, probably still upset about being ignored for so long. But she doesn't pull her knee away. And finally, right before I start thinking that maybe the plan's not worth it and I should just tell these men that they're morons and go back to my real life, she steps in.

"This is getting really stuffy," she says.

"Oh, we're sorry, Olivia," one of the guys says. I don't even remember his name, even though he mentioned it like an hour ago. "Boring you with all this man talk."

Oh, God, what a misogynistic prick. Even if he's right and Olivia wasn't following our conversation, it has nothing to do with her being a woman.

She's probably a minute away from digging her stiletto heel into his balls, but she smiles. "Yeah, us girls aren't as well-versed in world politics. Sometimes all a girl wants to do is dance." She glances at me. "Interested?"

Ah yes. I was counting on this, even if I thought I'd have to make the first step. It's even better that I didn't have to. As soon as she gets to touch me, I have her in the bag.

So I stand and offer her my hand. "Olivia?"

She takes it, and I help her stand.

This is the beginning of her undoing.