Page 123 of The Forever After Bet

Why is he so happy? I feel like sobbing and kicking something because we’re supposed to be broken up—again.

“Holy crap!” Jack exclaims, running a hand through his freshly combed hair.

“Yeah, that’s about what I said,” Ford says, smiling from ear to ear.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Here, read it yourself.” Jack hands me his phone.

Mason and Bree’s website is on the screen, but all the posts are gone. In their place is an apology letter. Mason has posted how sorry he is for exploiting Ford and me. He admits that none of what he wrote was true. He thinks we’re a great couple and wishes us the best in the future.

“Oh my gosh, he did it. I didn’t think it would be this fast.” I ramble.

Ford puts a gentle hand on my back. “Who did what?”

I look up at Ford and Jack. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I didn’t know what to do, so I talked to my dad. He asked a lot of questions, and I kept answering them. I should have talked to you first.”

Ford pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around me.

“You’re not mad at me?” I ask.

“I kept thinking I needed to solve this situation myself. I’m an adult, and that’s what adults do. But even adults rely on their parents for help sometimes. We’re in high school. We should rely on our parents while we still can. Thank you for seeing what I couldn’t. I think I finally understand what you meant when you said about always needing our families. It was such a relief to see all the posts gone, and the apology letter Mason wrote.”

I run my hands across his shoulders and down his arms, taking his hands. “You look better. Last night, I could see the toll this was taking on you.”

“I think you were more of an adult than the rest of us,” Jack says.

I hand him back his phone. “Thanks.” I smile.

The five-minute bell rings, and we all scatter, heading to class.

“Have you heard anything from Bree this morning?” I ask Ford.

“Yes. I got her good morning text. She says she’s counting the days and can’t wait until I’m her boyfriend.”

“Ew,” I say, making a face.

“Yep.” Ford laughs.

As we settle in for the start of economics, Ford and I get called out of class. The school’s student office assistant, Beckett, waits by the door as we grab our bags. “I’m supposed to take you two to the conference room in the office.”

“How’s your arm?” I ask Beckett, trying to ignore my stomach that’s twisting into knots with nervousness.

“Good. I’m still doing physical therapy, but I’ve finally been cleared to play basketball,” he says.

“That will be awesome. We need your three-point arm,” Ford says.

When we get to the conference room, my dad is there, along with Ford’s dad. There’s another couple here that I don’t know. Principal Forrest and one of the vice principals, Mr. Kendrick, are also sitting around the oval table.

I walk over to my dad, who stands up, hugging me. “Everything okay this morning?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I nod, giving him a tight smile.

We all sit down and wait. A couple of minutes later, Bree comes strolling into the room like she owns the place.

She stops just inside the door, taking in the situation. “What’s going on?” She asks, trying to act casual, but there’s a tremor in her voice.

Principal Forrest stands up, motioning to the chair next to who I assume are her parents. “Please have a seat, Miss Chandler, and we’ll explain everything.”

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