Page 27 of Heart Check
As if he feels my gaze on him, his eyes find mine in the back. For one long instant, we’re locked into a staring contest, and I’m wondering if he knows how much shit I’m getting, how I couldn’t help cheering for him at the game. Wondering if they’re going to be okay this season.
My cheeks bloom with heat, and I duck my head to my computer again.
He’s a conceited hockey player, Harper. He has a helmet for brains and padding around his heart. He’s going to be fine. Don’t let a pair of soulful eyes trick you into thinking there’s actually a soul in there.
I finish the test early, despite spending too much time staring at the back of Dawson’s head, and Ms. Moore gives me permission to pull up the Young Entrepreneurs portal on my computer while I wait for class to be dismissed.
The grant application is due right after winter break, and I want to get a draft of the essay done by Thanksgiving so I can give it to Marissa to edit. No comma splice has ever been spotted by her and lived to tell the tale. The question asksme to describe my business goals and the support I need, so I’m thinking about discussing the launch of my website and how I could use some guidance streamlining the e-commerce interface and learning best practices for online storefronts.
In the digital age,I type,having an online presence is crucial for business. I’m discovering that firsthand as I expand this year. Sales are up…
Hmm. How many orders have I fulfilled since I started the site? I open a browser window to check on my current stats.
But something doesn’t look right when it loads. I have to blink a few times, my eyes refusing to take in the information. My breathing is shallow in my chest. The scratching of pencils on paper roars in my ears.
The customer review portal looks a lot different today.
Average customer rating: 2.8 stars?!
I scan the latest reviews with my heart in my throat.
Placed an order and it was never fulfilled. Didn’t get a refund. Harper Braedon likes accusing other people of stealing money, but sounds like she does it plenty herself.
Supporting this business tells me a lot about your morals. I don’t talk to girls who wear those dumb charm bracelets anymore.
My grandma has better taste than Harper. At least she likes fun.
I scroll rapidly down. The good reviews from before are still there:
My new necklace is the number one thing strangers compliment me on. Guaranteed conversation starter.
harper’s jewelry cleared my skin and watered my crops!
Harper is such a professional! Great communication, timely delivery, excellent quality. Will be ordering from her again for my bestie’s birthday!
They’re just buried under the onslaught of hatred at the top.
What thefuck. My overall rating has dropped from nearly five stars to under three. All the bad reviews have appeared in the last week—and I haven’t even gotten any new orders in that time!
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s responsible.
I knew the hockey team hated me, but stooping to sabotage? That’s a new low.
My hands clench into fists beneath my desk. It takes everything in me to stay still and quiet when inside, I’m bubbling with rage.
I can’t believe I was just feeling sorry for the team. Was mentally wishing Dawson good luck on his test!
I grit my teeth. It couldn’t be him, right? I thought we agreed we both had too much to lose if we kept going after each other.
But then I remember, and my heart stops: I told Dawson about my website. The timing is too perfect for it to be a coincidence. Iknowhe’s somehow to blame. Even if he hasn’t been review bombing me himself, he could have been talking about my work with his evil hockey bros.
Noah enters my mind in a flash of bleached blond hair and cold blue eyes and smarmy smile. He wouldn’t think twice about tanking my business.
The swift, sudden betrayal knocks the wind out of me. Serves me right for getting soft and complacent, forcheeringat ahockey game. That team only cares about what they want, and anyone who stands in their way is merely an obstacle. Other people aren’t real to them.
“You good?” someone whispers.
I look up from my gremlin hunch over the computer to see Luke Dawson standing in the aisle by my desk, test in hand on the way to Ms. Moore.
