RUMMAGING THROUGH MY LUGGAGE for the umpteenth time to confirm I had packed the necessities for the week in France, I slumped down into the cushioned Papasan chair. Packing was indeed a hassle. If Asra were here, I wouldn't have procrastinated until the last two hours before the flight. Unfortunately, though, she hadn't been granted the opportunity to go on the trip, to which she scoffed and bribed the Headmaster. In the end, Asra booked her own flight ticket and would be meeting us at the designated hotel. Although she had claimed that she would miss me, I knew it was because Zavian was in my class, and he'd be obliged to go as well.

And truthfully, I had long known that Zavian was crushing on me for years. I might have been dense, but it came to an extent. His consistent teases and obvious flirts were proof. I would have been an idiot if I didn't notice how flirtatious he was with me when I first arrived at the academy. However, when Asra transferred, they began spending more time together. Eventually, his feelings faded. I was also aware of Asra's feelings toward him since we were children. I firmly believed that they'd get married like a cliché love story.

Since Asra's flight was booked separately, her arrival to France would be several hours earlier. It was currently seven-thirty, and I needed to be at the private airport by eight-thirty. This airport was built to accommodate the travelling of students as public airports would be too crowded. Waiting for my phone to charge since I had forgotten to last night, I lounged lazily. And suddenly, a line of notifications blew up my phone. Checking it briefly, I frowned when most of them were from Zavian. Fifty texts and twenty missed calls, all asking me where I was and that the flight was leaving in ten minutes, with or without me. And all of them were sent nearly two hours ago.

Texting him back, I was fully aware he wouldn't receive it until he landed, No need to worry. My father called, and I was occupied. Lie, I had ignored his calls last night since I was busy stressing out for no good reason. And now, I didn't have a clue how I would be getting to France.

Locking my phone, I shoved my face into my pillows and screamed. I wanted that five-hundred thousand! There was also no way I was willing to withdraw from the academy. Did Daniel think I competed with a hundred thousand applicants to drop out now? And for the sake of my own pride, I couldn't. To imagine my father dancing happily, teasing me of how he told me so was something I wasn't able to accept.

Searching through my worn-out wallet, I was ready to cry tears of joy when I found the credit card my father insisted I bring in times of emergencies. I kissed it as though it was the most precious thing in the world. I would seriously protect this with my life. Pulling the marble suitcase behind me, I checked my appearance once more. Since this would be considered outside school hours, I could wear whatever I liked. And since it was France, dressing in style was important. Satisfied with the white cropped blouse and the washed-out blue jeans, I paired them with white pumps that had an open toe.

Tossing a matching white bag over my shoulder, I headed out the door and decided to call a taxi instead. Public flights were the least of my problems, and I wouldn't mind it at all, as long as I was able to take the next earliest flight. While in thought, I could have sworn that the email read eight-thirty in the morning, not five. My mission was to embarrass Daniel, and ideally, that meant successfully getting to France. "Good, you're finally out. I was about to call you."

The body popped out from the left, making me stagger back. Losing my footing, I stumbled over my luggage and bags. In August's attempt to pull me back up, he failed, and I had accidentally kicked him in the jewels instead. My back hit flat against the suitcase, and I moaned out in pain. "Ah, shit, my back," I dramatically wheezed out. "Why the hell did you do that?" I huffed, tilting my head as I watched him murmur curses and on his knees as he leaned forward to hold his stomach. Conflicted, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to cry, laugh, or both. "Listen, how about we put this behind us? I really can't pay for those medical bills of yours."

Popping myself up, ready to dash for the elevators, August reached for my wrist, unwilling to let me go. "H-How are you going to abandon me after I specifically waited for you?" He gasped, "What are your knees made of? Steel?"

"Really? You waited for me?" My expression brightened, and I could hear the engines in my brain running. "Can you drop me off at the airport? Pretty please?"

Flinching, he straightened his back and stood at full height. "Nothing is free in life. I accept all methods of payment."

Rolling my eyes, I smirked cheekily. I leaned in, inches away and hummed. Then stepping away suddenly, I playfully pointed a finger, "Did you think I was going to kiss you or something?" Noticing his narrowed eyes, I added. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Stephen James definitely outranks you."

Sighing dreamingly, August frowned as though he had been insulted. Even Vogue had declared August Laurent as the most handsome bachelor. "Vogue doesn't think so," he muttered sourly, clearly affected. Clearing his throat, he slid behind me to carry my belongings. Although he tried to hide his cheeks, I definitely noticed the tint of pink. This shameless womanizer was blushing? Was it the end of the world?

Following him in-suite to the elevator, I pressed the first floor. "Why did you wait for me?"

"Because why would I let you ride on a crowded plane when I own a private jet?" What a life to be filthy rich. Though, he never fully answered my question. "I have my own private landing pad, so there's no need to stop by the airport. Do you want something to drink before we go?"

"Starbucks, please," I smiled excitedly. Does Starbucks even qualify as a rich-people beverage?

There was a chance I was thinking too hard. Walking alongside him was rather stressful, drawing more attention than I preferred. The envious and venerated stares followed, and it felt a bit unbearable. I hesitantly intertwined our arms, hoping for a reaction from him. I expected some sort of resistance or a scowl, but when I glanced up, August looked nonchalant.

Perhaps if I were any other air-headed girl, his charm was bound to have worked on me. This type of thing happened in movies and books only. But I knew better. August wasn't treating me sweetly out of the kindness of his heart. Everything he did, the flirtatious words and thoughtful actions, was all a game to him. And despite it, I was going to be sure to take full advantage of it.

Struggling to keep up with August's pace, I tugged at his sleeve, only to find me strode quicker. Once we arrived at the entrance of the academy, I caught my breath. Watching as the dark grey Maserati rounded the fountain to park, I blinked at how expensive it looked. When the driver exited, I recognized the man as August's personal valet. Following his stride down the steps, August opened the passenger door with a spare hand, ushering me inside. With a light slam of the door, he lifted my luggage into the trunk and then caught the keys from the valet. "I'm scared to know how many cars you really have," I broke out, admiring the beige leather interior. Fastening my seatbelt, I couldn't hide my excitement when I thought about how I could brag to Dionte. He was a fanatic about cars, and although I was clueless about them, boasting was fun.

"Four garages full," he replied, and I blinked in disbelief, gaping. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. The thought of how many zero's that was made my head hurt. "I'm aiming for six."

Four?! Do you drive a different car every day of the week?

"Of course. Who would want to be caught driving the same car twice in a row?" My jaw dropped, realizing I said my thoughts aloud. It never failed to amaze me. Noticing that we were parked in the lot, August handed me a card. Although I didn't plan on using it, I still flimsily took it.

Hopping out of the card, I quickly reminded him to wait for me in the car. If August came inside, I was sure that all hell would break loose. Whether it was that someone would recognize him or just appreciating his looks, it was too dangerous. It was way too early to be targetted by a group of strangers.

Standing in line, I couldn't help but check my phone multiple times. And when it was my turn to order, I subconsciously scanned the menu even though I only ordered one drink from Starbucks. "An iced venti hazelnut latte and the sausage-egg sandwich, please," and as the morning rush begins, a line forms behind me.

After tapping my card, I watched it decline, clearing my throat as I tried once more. "It's declined, sweety."

"I'll try again," I mumbled, completely forgetting that August had given me his card earlier. While this went on for another three minutes, the person behind me snickered mockingly.

"Sweety, your card has declined again," the cashier repeated. "Please leave if you're unable to pay."

I can pay, and I do have the funds! I mentally argued, though my card was proof enough. But how the hell do I not have money? My father had personally prepared this credit card without a specified limit. There was absolutely no way.

Doing a breathing exercise, I recalled how I declined his calls for two nights in a row. I had been stressing out about nothing in particular. So, help me, God, if he suspended it out of pettiness, I was going to lose it.

"If you had no money, you should have just used my card," August cut in, swiping his American Express credit card.

Biting my nail, I looked down, "There's no way he could be that petty, right?" I murmured under my breath, refusing to accept how embarrassed I was. If it weren't for the fact that I had attempted to try for three consecutive minutes, maybe I wouldn't have felt like crawling in a hole to waste away. "Oh, who am I kidding? He's definitely petty enough to do that."

August nudged my arm with an entertained smile playing on his lips. "Your hazelnut latte isn't that bad," he nodded, sipping on my drink casually before handing it towards me. Then taking a large bite out of my sandwich, he added, "Not bad."

AMAZED AT THE SIGHT of his matte black private jet, I felt myself drool. Although I was aware of how rich he was, it was on a completely different level of wealth. He drained his money like water, and it was rather impressive. It never failed to amaze me. "Are you getting in?" He asked, pinching my shoulder that it drew me out of a trance. I must have looked stupid standing rigid at the steps. Embarrassed, I squealed when I entered, in awe of the interior.

The leather seats were cream, embroidered with gold Versace detailings. "I'm a little scared to ask how many jets you have," I babbled, looking around like a tourist.

"Five," he yawned, lazily kicking his feet back and shutting his eyes. On the other hand, I had hesitantly sat down, afraid that I might ruin these delicate seats. "This one's considered the cheapest out of all of them."

Leaning into the couch, my body sunk in comfort, and it felt as though this was made for me. "I must be in Heaven."

"Nope, I've just been gracing you with my presence," he chimed arrogantly. "We'll be there in less than six hours, so rest up and be quiet."

I narrowed my eyes, peeking a glance when I noticed his eyes were still closed. I wasn't expecting a lot from this special treatment. I needed to remember that this was all just a game to him. Things like this wouldn't last. August Laurent didn't need any new friends, and there wasn't anything significant about me that would change it. After a moment, I assumed he was asleep, incoherently muttering as I snuggled into the seats, "As if I'd ever fall in love with you."

"Hey, Calista?" He called lightly, but I was too exhausted to reply. Ignoring it, I fell deeper, vaguely hearing shuffling, and suddenly, I swore I could smell his cologne as if he were standing above me. "You're not that bad of company," he said. "I want to know the real you. What secrets are you keeping?" And as his fingers trailed down my cheek, the warmth was gone as quickly as it came.