“If any student instigates legal action against the school or any employees therein, any scholarships, awards, achievements, or merits are immediately forfeit. It goes on, but I believe you can extrapolate from that the actual reality of this whole situation.”
“So you’re screwed either way,” Maverick says lazily, “Unless you marry me of course. Then you get to keep everything, plus, did I mention? Fifty. Thousand. Dollars.”
I can feel mad blackbirds clawing frantically at my throat, trying desperately to escape as my chest closes in on me.
Of course I need the money, and of course I can’t afford to lose the scholarship, and of course I hadn’t read the damn fine print about litigation because, you know, silly me! I never imagined I would need to take legal action against the school.
I glare at Maverick’s stupid smirking face. I can’t believe I’m even considering babysitting this major-league asshole.
“How long do I need to stay married to him?”
4
Maverick
Holy shit, she’s going to do it.
My jaw is itching to hit the floor, but I keep it together. No need for her to know how shocked I actually am.
The Dean shrugs. “Just until he gets drafted, I suppose. He should be able to handle his own immigration after that, assuming he can keep himself out of trouble. Either way, he won’t be my problem after graduation, so you can do as you like.”
Coach gives a pleading look, but the Dean ignores him.
“What am I supposed to tell my parents?” Beth asks.
Her parents? Seriously? My gosh she’s so annoying.
“Does it matter?” I wrinkle my nose. “You’re eighteen years old. aren’t you? You don’t need to ask them for permission and they can’t say a bloody thing.”
She raises a cold eyebrow at me. “They can say plenty. I’m not sure what kind of barn you grew up in but some of us actually respect our parents, thank you very much.”
I scoff, and she rolls her eyes. I’m already beginning to regret my decision.
I shrug. “Well obviously you don’t want the money, so I’ll go find someone who does.”
“I didn’t say that,” she grunts through her teeth. “I just want to know if any of you have even thought that far ahead.”
“It’s a whirlwind romance,” Coach says, his eyes sparkling. “You’ll tell them you’ve been dating him in secret for a couple of years, you didn’t want to tell them because he’s British—”
“Excuse me? Being British is a crime, I suppose?”
She levels a baleful look at me. “On second thought, they’ll know right away why I didn’t want to tell them about you. I just hope my dad doesn’t disown me.” She sighs sulkily. “When will you pay me? Who will pay me?”
Now we’re talking.
“I will,” I nod. “You’ll get ten thousand now, fifteen when it’s official, and the other twenty-five after I get drafted.”
“And if you don’t get drafted?” she asks with a ridiculous seriousness in her face.
Coach and I share a stunned look, then break into laughter. “Not get drafted? Are you serious? Have you ever seen me play?”
“Can’t really avoid it around here, can I?”
“Then you know I’m good enough. Heck, I’m more than good, I’m the best here and top five in this whole state. Not get drafted,” I chuckle under my breath.
“I know you’re good enough to wrap these two around your grimy little fingers, but that doesn’t seem to take much,” she claps back.
I can’t even be angry. She is too funny.
“Look turtle, I’m as good as the pros and better than some. I’ll get drafted the second a scout sees me play.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you have your whole life planned out. I won’t do this without a contingency. If you don’t get drafted, how long am I expected to stay married to you? How long will it be before I get the second half of the money?”
I can see Coach gearing up to jump to my defense, but I wave him down with a lazy hand. “Let’s not argue about all that. A contingency is what you want, yes? Then here it is. If I am not drafted right out of high school, then I will expect you to remain married to me through college or for as long as it takes for me to get drafted while in college. I’ll pay you an additional fifty thousand per year until I do get drafted.”
“No. That won’t be necessary. I’m not marrying you because I give a shit about you. I’d be marrying you for two reasons and two reasons only. I need the money and you need your green card. Whatever the hell you want to do after both those things happen is really nothing I care about. You’ll have gotten that green card long before we’re done with college and I’ll be done with you long before then too.”
God she’s irritating.
“I’m sorry, Beth. You’ve misunderstood your role,” Coach starts. “You’re not just helping him get his green card. You’re helping him stay out of trouble. Stay sober. Get to training sessions. Make it to try-outs. How was it that you put it earlier? Baby-sitting”
I flash him a cold hard stare. “I’m no fucking baby.”
She looks horrified for a second or two, but I can see the hunger in her eyes. I knew she wouldn’t be able to turn the money down, though. Coach is anxiously wringing his hands, the Dean is tracing a mark on his desk with his finger as if he would rather be anywhere else, but I just sit back in my chair and watch her face. She’ll say yes. She has to.
“No.”
“What?” I baulk and Coach’s eyes bulge. Dean looks up slowly at her.
“No.” She sits back in her chair and folds her arms.
Unbelievable.
“Do you know who I am?” I growl at her.
“Trust me, I know exactly who you are. That is why I am not accepting this deal. Fifty thousand dollars to climb Mount Everest or swim across the Ganges is a good deal. Fifty thousand dollars to try and I do mean try, to keep you in line is a rip-off.”
This greedy bitch.
The Dean chuckles silently to himself and nods, waiting for me to answer.
“Seventy, nope…eighty thousand dollars.”
“Listen, you cu-”
“Would you like to make it one hundred?” She glares at me with raging eyes and a steel cold face.
“I see trash throwing themselves at you daily. You don’t need me, Maverick. If you don’t want to pay the fee, then don’t marry me. You would make me a very happy woman.” Her face is creased with disdain.
“What’s that? You can’t blackmail those girls? Ah, so you actually need me. Shame. If only your pockets ran deep enough to cover the actual cost of me enduring just the thought of being your lawfully wedded wife.”
She spits the last line out with rancor, as though spoilt milk has somehow landed inside her mouth. No one speaks for a few beats and I stare at her, daring her to back down, but she’s out for blood. She knows she’s right. I know she’s right. We all know it.
I may be the life of the party, but I’m nobody’s husband.
“Fine,” I growl after a few beats of grating silence crawls by.