Billionaire Happy After

Meeting Christian

I stared at the frame for hours 

It wasn't Lucas

It took me a moment to realize that, but the longer and closer I looked, the more differences I noticed.

Lucas was two years older, so his face was more defined, with a sharper jaw and higher arching eyebrows. His hair was shorter, at least it was last time I had seen him. It had probably grown out since the trial.

Their biggest difference, yet similarity, though, was their eyes. Lucas' eyes were a startlingly pale, almost icy blue, while Christian's were a clear light green. But they both had this coldness that almost sent a shiver down my spine.

It was not fair to judge him, though. Maybe Christian would be the nicest person I ever met, and I only saw his eyes as cold because Lucas' were and they looked so much alike.

Even so, I did not feel any more inclined to go on this stupid road trip with him.

I shuffled the papers into a pile and prepared to go downstairs, equipped with three arguments that would hopefully convince Mom that I should've go on the trip.  All of which held strong grounds for complaint and should do the trick.

One, Christian was a guy. Two, I could spend the time catching up on school. And finally, going on a road trip with a guy who looked a hell lot like Lucas definitely would not help me move on from what happened.

I made my way to the stairs, but froze at the sound of the garage door opening.

Fuck, Dad's home.

That made everything ten times harder. Mom was easier to sway, especially if I got all emotional on her. But my Dad did not give a s**t.

But I was not going to let him win.

I ran down the stairs, walking into the living room just as Dad opened the front door. I ignored him, heading into the kitchen to find Mom. Unfortunately, he followed after me.

"You're home early," Mom remarked, still perched on a stool, flipping through flyers, though I could see something baking in the oven and the start of a salad on the counter. She gave me a wary glance, her eyes shooting down to the papers in my hand, then back over my shoulder to Dad.

"Given that it's Georgia's  first day of school tomorrow," I heard him say from behind me. "I decided not to stay later."

Dad had been working more overtime recently, but I didn't mind that. It was better if we didn't cross that much anyway.

"I'm seventeen, not seven," I replied irritably. "First days of school aren't a big deal."

He frowned at me, but didn't say anything.

I decided to forge on with what I came down here to argue. "I can't go."

Dad's frown deepened, but before he could speak, Mom put a hand on his shoulder. She gave him a 'let-me-handle-this' look, then turned back to me, raising an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"My partner's a guy," I told her, slapping down the information sheet.

Mom nodded. "I know."

I gave her an incredulous look. "And you're okay with it?"

She sighed. "We asked for you to be partnered with a girl, but it was so late that there was only one person left."

And of course it was a guy who looked like he could be Lucas' fraternal twin.

God, or fate, or whatever all-powerful force that controlled the universe must be laughing their ass off right now.

I moved onto argument two. "I could use the time to catch up on school instead." This should appeal to Dad, he was always lecturing me about grades and school and university.

But surprisingly he only seemed to get more annoyed. "This trip will help remind you what you wanted before-"

"It'll help you move on, honey," Mom said, cutting him off, even though it was obvious what Dad was going to say.

I had one last card left. "How am I supposed to move on," I started, flipping over the paper. "When the guy I'm going with looks just like Lucas?"

Mom and Dad stared at the photo for a long moment. The phone rang, cutting through the silence, but neither of them moved to pick it up, just continued examining the photo. In surprise? Shock at how much he looked like Lucas?

Mom then turned and gave me a concerned glance."Are you alright?"

"What? I'm fine." I gawked at them. They had to see it, right? Lucas and Christian Harvey may not have looked like complete twins, but they still looked scarily alike.

"I see a slight resemblance," she admitted. "But all boys look the same at your age."

What really really though? That's the best excuse you could come up with. I was burning to roll my eyes.

"Not as much as he and Lucas do!" I protested.

"You can't judge based on appearance," Mom scolded. "He might be really nice."

Dad gave me a hard stare. "I don't want you getting any ideas about using him to replace Lucas Troop because you think they look alike."

How could he say I'm thinking they look alike? Was I the only one with two functioning eyes in this household?

"I don't think they look alike, they do!" Well I still insisted. I needed to be heard.

But even as I protested, an inkling of doubt crept into my mind. Could it just be my imagination? Seeing Lucas where he wasn't because I still wasn't over him and what he had done?

"It's all already paid for," Mom told me.

"Then get a r****d!" I exclaimed. "I don't want to go!"

"I don't want to hear any more of it," Dad said, standing up. "You're going and that's final."

And with that, he stormed out of the room.

"Mom," I started, turning to her. "You can't make-"

She held up a hand, cutting me off. "I want you to consider something, Georgia ," she said. "Are you saying no because you really don't want to?"

"Of course!" Why else would I?

She continued as if I hadn't interrupted. "Or is it because it's something Lucas would have wanted you to do?"

"This has nothing to do with him," I protested.

But her eyes told me the only person I was fooling was myself.

The first time I met Lucas wasn't earth shattering.

Not the kind of meeting that you remembered and definitely not the kind that told you 'hey, this person's really gonna f**k up your life'.

It was two years ago, near the end of freshman year, at one of those small convenience stores in a slightly sketchy plaza that only got business because it was directly across from our high school.

I was with a couple friends, I couldn't remember who exactly, though between Lucas and growing up, I probably didn't talk to them anymore.

The store was crowded, filled with other kids from our school. I was telling some kind of story that required crazy hand gestures. At least, at the time I had believed that it was super important that I showed just how big of a deal whatever I had been talking about was.

I swung an arm out and ended up hitting a rack of postcards. At the time, it had seemed like the end of the world. With so many people from our school, and a majority of them being older, I had been terrified I would end up being known as a complete klutz for the next four years. But even so, I stood frozen as I watched the stand tip over.

Then a hand shot out and steadied it before any of the postcards could scatter on the ground. "I got it," a deep voice said. The body in front of me was big, tall, definitely not a freshman. As a freshman, I had believed that there was some asinine rule that freshmen couldn't make eye contact with any of the upperclassman.

But I broke the rule, and looked up.

The first time I saw his eyes, I had believed they were warm.

The phone call that had sounded last night while I was fighting with Mom and Dad had turned out to be Damon. He'd left a message, talking about a suggestion he'd forgotten to tell me during our session. He had advised me to keep a journal, detailing all the memories I had with Lucas

"When someone betrays us like Lucas did you, we start to replay every memory we had with them, looking for a sign that it was coming. I want you to write it all down, instead of keeping it locked inside of your head," his voicemail had explained.

And though I would never admit it out loud, he was right. I had started doubting every moment I'd ever shared with Lucas, wondering if it had been nothing more than some kind of game to him the entire time.

Though I wasn't sure how writing it down would help.

I wasn't a writer. I barely tolerated English class and while I understood the basics of grammar, I never scored a very high mark on those short stories and essays they made us write.

I closed the journal and stuffed it in my bad as the bus pulled to a stop. Fighting against the road trip thing had landed me without car privileges for the next two weeks. Easing past couple nervous freshmen and a group of old ladies, I stepped off the bus and turned to face my new school.

It was huge, being one of the only three high schools in Sysco, a lot bigger than the school I had gone to in Akman. The parking lot matched the school in size, filled with people clustered in small groups, talking and laughing.

I didn't know a single one of them.

There was a another town between Sysco and Akman, Hampton Hills, so I'd never had the chance to meet anyone from my new town.

It didn't matter, though.

I wasn't here to make friends. I just wanted to get a diploma and get the hell out of here. If it took a bunch of awkward lunches sitting by myself, then so be it.

I pulled out my phone as I started across the parking lot. I had taken a picture of a map of Sysco High and sent my schedule to myself in hopes that I wouldn't end up having to wander around like a lost freshman.

"Look out!" someone yelled.

On reflex, I glanced up, expecting to see some football whizzing towards me or to find out that it wasn't me they were talking to. A screeching noise filled the noise and I turned to see something a lot bigger, and a lot more expensive than a football about hit me.

I was five seconds away from getting hit by a car.

A white Mercedes-Benz that definitely hadn't been going at the standard five miles per hour speed in a parking lot was futilely trying to stop as it skidded towards me.

Holy s**t, Gig, move! I yelled at myself. I forced my legs out of their frozen state and raced towards the walkway a couple feet away, trying to get out of the way.

Not fast enough.

For a split second, I felt nothing as I found myself on the ground.

Then a throbbing pain started along the left side of my hip, where the car had hit first and a slight sting on my elbow from scraping it on the pavement when I fell. It wasn't unbearable though, not as bad as I thought it would be, whoever had been driving had somehow managed to take away most of their speed.

The parking lot had fallen silent, and distantly, I heard the sound of a car door slamming. A second later I felt someone beside me. "s**t, I'm sorry, are you okay?" An unfamiliar male voice asked as I unsteadily pushed myself to my knees. "Do you need to go to the hospital? Should I call 9-1-1?"

"I'm fine," I replied weakly, shaking my head. "You have a nice car." I let him help me to my feet, keeping an eye on the scrapes on my elbow that had started to bleed a little.

The guy chuckled a little. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, just a couple scrapes," I said. My hip hurt a bit, but I wasn't going to the hospital on my first day at a new school.

"Here, let me grab your stuff," he offered, picking up my background and phone from the ground.

"Thank-" I replied, glancing up. I cut myself off when I found myself looking into a pair of light green eyes and a slightly familiar face.

Christian Harvey .

I didn't realize I had said his name out loud until he stiffened. "Yeah, that's me," he said, his entire demeanor changing as his gaze turned hard. He shoved my things into my arms and pulled away. "You should watch where you're going."

He gave me one last glare, then moved to get in his car. I quickly scurried out of the way when he revved the engine, barely making it onto the walkway before he sped off.

I winced at the screeching noise that filled the air.