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Authors: Cat Caruthers
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phone back in her purse, pouting. "I'm not sure the dean of a medical school will see that as knowledge of anatomy," she says, after Claire leaves. "And it may not be illegal, but it's still embarrassing and not something any medical school would want associated with its students. What else do poor people do in this situation?"
"I hate to say it, but Matt was right," I say, dumping vinaigrette dressing on my salad. "Paying off someone for a sex tape is a bad idea. Besides, the way he described things, he really just wants to use it as leverage against you, anyway."
"So you don't think he'll use it?" Morgan asks.
I shrug. "No guarantee, but I'd say there's a good chance he won't. Besides, the way he was talking earlier, he doesn't think you have any money."
"He could always ask for something else," Tiffany says.
"Ask someone you're blackmailing with a sex tape for more sex? That'd take balls that I'm pretty sure the guy doesn't have. You didn't see his truck,” I add, for everyone else's benefit.
"I just don't know," Morgan says, staring miserably at her untouched salad. "I just can't stand that he has that video and there's nothing I can do about it! What if one of his friends found it? What if he got drunk and decided he didn't need an insurance policy as much as he needed to humiliate me? Maybe I should just concede the bet and go pay him off."
This brings a noisy table of people beating on ketchup bottles, slurping sodas and, in Charlie's case, quietly counting french fries, to a dead silence.
"You want to concede the bet on day two?" Richard asks.
Morgan shrugs. "The rest of you can stay in if you want. I'll pay Richard the money I agreed to and help him with whatever volunteer work he wants done."
I roll my eyes. "Morgan, I can't believe you're giving up so fast. You haven't even considered all the options."
"Yes, I have!" She picks up her salad fork and stabs it at her salad like she's reenacting the Scream movies. "The only way to be sure this doesn't haunt me for the rest of my life is to give the guy a big payoff."
Richard puts his burger down, wipes his mouth and stares straight across at Morgan. "I think you missed the whole point of the bet. It wasn't for you to pay out and do a few extra hours of charity work. It was for you to see how limited the options are for someone who doesn't have money."
"Which just proves my point, that money is important and something we shouldn't be ashamed to want," I jump in. Maybe I can get RIchard to concede instead of Morgan! That would look great on my vlog.
He shakes his head, looking at Morgan instead of me. "No, it's not. People who don't have money are forced to actually think about things, get creative, make new options. There are so many things that you will never know about yourself if you always have the money to pay someone off, Morgan. Not only will you never realize your own potential for thinking outside the box, but you'll be letting that jerk Biff get away with something he shouldn't. And that's not fair either."
"Fine," Morgan says around a bite of lettuce. She's so upset she doesn't care if she eats with her mouth full - or if she's chewing like she should have a brand on her backside. "I will continue to consider other options until midnight tonight. But if I haven't come up with something by then, I'm conceding the bet and paying that asshole off."
Chapter Nine
I don't tan. I do enjoy the heat, but my skin and sunlight mix like vodka and valium - a disaster. Twenty minutes in the sun and I go all Bill Compton, skin turning red and sizzling like bacon. So when I go to the beach, I go under a haze of SPF 5,000 and an umbrella. Once sufficiently protected from the sun, I can relax and sleep under a nice blanket of warm air.
Which is what I'm trying to do right now...but Morgan isn't letting me. "What do you think I should do?" she asks. "I don't want to prove Richard right. And it seems like Richard knows what the answer is, but he's
"I hate to say it, but Matt was right," I say, dumping vinaigrette dressing on my salad. "Paying off someone for a sex tape is a bad idea. Besides, the way he described things, he really just wants to use it as leverage against you, anyway."
"So you don't think he'll use it?" Morgan asks.
I shrug. "No guarantee, but I'd say there's a good chance he won't. Besides, the way he was talking earlier, he doesn't think you have any money."
"He could always ask for something else," Tiffany says.
"Ask someone you're blackmailing with a sex tape for more sex? That'd take balls that I'm pretty sure the guy doesn't have. You didn't see his truck,” I add, for everyone else's benefit.
"I just don't know," Morgan says, staring miserably at her untouched salad. "I just can't stand that he has that video and there's nothing I can do about it! What if one of his friends found it? What if he got drunk and decided he didn't need an insurance policy as much as he needed to humiliate me? Maybe I should just concede the bet and go pay him off."
This brings a noisy table of people beating on ketchup bottles, slurping sodas and, in Charlie's case, quietly counting french fries, to a dead silence.
"You want to concede the bet on day two?" Richard asks.
Morgan shrugs. "The rest of you can stay in if you want. I'll pay Richard the money I agreed to and help him with whatever volunteer work he wants done."
I roll my eyes. "Morgan, I can't believe you're giving up so fast. You haven't even considered all the options."
"Yes, I have!" She picks up her salad fork and stabs it at her salad like she's reenacting the Scream movies. "The only way to be sure this doesn't haunt me for the rest of my life is to give the guy a big payoff."
Richard puts his burger down, wipes his mouth and stares straight across at Morgan. "I think you missed the whole point of the bet. It wasn't for you to pay out and do a few extra hours of charity work. It was for you to see how limited the options are for someone who doesn't have money."
"Which just proves my point, that money is important and something we shouldn't be ashamed to want," I jump in. Maybe I can get RIchard to concede instead of Morgan! That would look great on my vlog.
He shakes his head, looking at Morgan instead of me. "No, it's not. People who don't have money are forced to actually think about things, get creative, make new options. There are so many things that you will never know about yourself if you always have the money to pay someone off, Morgan. Not only will you never realize your own potential for thinking outside the box, but you'll be letting that jerk Biff get away with something he shouldn't. And that's not fair either."
"Fine," Morgan says around a bite of lettuce. She's so upset she doesn't care if she eats with her mouth full - or if she's chewing like she should have a brand on her backside. "I will continue to consider other options until midnight tonight. But if I haven't come up with something by then, I'm conceding the bet and paying that asshole off."
Chapter Nine
I don't tan. I do enjoy the heat, but my skin and sunlight mix like vodka and valium - a disaster. Twenty minutes in the sun and I go all Bill Compton, skin turning red and sizzling like bacon. So when I go to the beach, I go under a haze of SPF 5,000 and an umbrella. Once sufficiently protected from the sun, I can relax and sleep under a nice blanket of warm air.
Which is what I'm trying to do right now...but Morgan isn't letting me. "What do you think I should do?" she asks. "I don't want to prove Richard right. And it seems like Richard knows what the answer is, but he's
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