Forever Princeton Charming

by Love, Frankie

  There is a collective intake of breath and I just can’t get why Winslow won’t let this all drop. People break up all of the time. Why is she so obsessed with my boyfriend?

  “Winnie,” Georgia says, looking around.

  There are more than a dozen heads turned in our direction now, watching, waiting. They want a show, and Winslow seems content on giving them one.

  Georgia says softly to her, “Let’s not do this, here. Maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

  “Or maybe she needs to leave.” Winslow glares at me. “You don’t belong here, Cinderella. Unless you’re mopping floors or washing dishes.”

  “Winnie,” Georgia gasps. “Stop being such a bitch.”

  “It’s okay, Georgia,” I say, giving her a small smile and trying to hold back my anger. I need to stay calm if I’m going to get Winslow to confess. “Thanks though. But I actually came here to talk to Winslow.”

  Georgia nods and she hesitantly walks away, but Winslow and I stare at one another, standing face-to-face.

  “Why would I want to talk to you,” Winslow spits out. She has no clue that I know. She’s so caught up in her own delusions that she thinks she’s untouchable, which will make her fall all the harder.

  “Here’s the thing, Winslow.” My phone is in my hand, recording. And I know what I have to say, to catch her. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

  She purses her lips. “Figure what out, exactly?”

  “Why you’re so insecure and afraid of other people’s happiness. Why you’re terrified of me. But most importantly, why you’re such a malicious bitch,” I say sweetly, lifting an eyebrow. I may have not got into any fist fights growing up, but my father taught me to defend myself. Stay smart. Stay safe. Stay sassy. And words are the most powerful thing any of us have. I know the word I used to describe her is evocative - but Winslow slandered me across the internet.

  I can’t let her get away with this.

  “You can call me a bitch all you like Hayes, but at least I’m not a slut.”

  The crowd around us moves closer, hanging onto every word we exchange. Let them watch. I don’t care. I just want Winslow to leave me the hell alone. Need her to confess her part in this.

  I see Spencer out of the corner of my eye. He’s asking if I need back up, but I shake my head. I have this under control.

  “I’m not a slut, Winslow. I’m a girl who is in love with a boy. And like it or not, he chose me. So stop posting about it on the Internet. Stop tormenting yourself for the life you didn’t get.”

  She scoffs, but I see the first hint of fear in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m talking about the blog posts. About your hateful words, and your creepy infatuation with a boy who broke up with you.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, but I see the crack in her veneer, her shaking hand holding the champagne glass and the pursed lips that hold her true thoughts at bay.

  And here’s the thing. No one does what she did to me unless she truly hates herself.

  I look at her, poised, polished, outwardly so damn perfect. But inside? Winslow is a broken girl. They say that real queens fix one another’s crowns, but Winslow didn’t get the memo.

  And as much as she has tried to ruin me, I refuse to ruin her.

  I pull out my phone and stop recording. “I was going to tape this all. Me revealing everything you did. Telling everyone here and everyone on campus exactly what you did to me, if they hadn’t already seen it for themselves on your blog.”

  I shake my head looking around the room, at the rich Ivy Leaguers who were fed with a silver spoon, who vacation in the South of France and drive cars that cost more than my father has ever made in a year. I used to hold it against them. Their wealth. Their trust funds and their futures.

  But I don’t anymore.

  Because none of this defines them.

  I thought I had learned that already, after the accident, but standing here, finally confronting the person who has done everything she possibly could to make my life a living hell, I am learning the lesson all over again. We are the sum of our actions. Rich or poor, we choose who we become.

  Winslow is shaking now, but her gaze is still on me, filled with hate and vengeance that I’ll never understand.

  “When you do things like this,” I say, pulling up the screenshot I took of the blog post, facing it out for her. “You’re only hurting yourself. Did you think you’d never get caught? We know you posted the pictures, the video.”

  “Wait,” Georgia says, approaching us. “Is that you, Winnie?” she asks, pointing to the image on my phone. It’s the one of Spence and me in the record store.

  “I...” Winslow’s face has gone white and she sets her glass on the table, looking ready to bolt.

  Georgia rips the phone from my hand, her eyes wide. “Winnie, is that you?” she asks again, her voice is high. She’s stunned, shocked as she looks at it. It’s the zoomed in image and Winslow’s signature blonde hair and red coat, next to the full image. “Win, did you...oh, god...”

  Winslow begins to back away. “I didn’t do anything. I never...I mean—”

  “Mean what?” Spencer asks, stepping closer. And I don’t push him away. He needs to confront her just as much as I did. I said my piece, I made my choice. Now he can make his. “You didn’t mean to videotape my girlfriend and I in Nantucket? You didn’t mean to write fucked up shit and post it all over the goddamn Internet? What’s your problem?”

  Winslow may put on a tough act with me, but Spencer draws out a different side of her. Tears fill her eyes. She’s been caught, and she knows it.

  “What’s my problem?” she asks, her voice rasing several octaves. “That’s what you want to know? My problem is that you and I were supposed to be together, Spencer. So yeah, I wrote the stupid blog, but no one cares. They all know it’s the truth anyway. Charlotte Hayes is a money grabbing whore. And she’s not good enough for you.”

  There are gasps around us as she shows her true colors.

  “And you are?” Spencer chokes on the words, looking at her evenly. “We’ve been over this. We were never going to get together after you fucked my brother.”

  Whispers start.

  “Spencer,” I say, not wanting to cause more damage than necessary.

  “I fucked him to make you jealous,” she says, hysterical now. She looks like a wild animal caught in a cage, her eyes darting from Spencer to the door, her words spilling from her. “I didn’t know he was going to kill himself over it.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Winslow,” Spencer says reeling. “And since you have no fucking clue about any of it, stop. Now. Or this information won’t be kept between friends. Charlie is a better person than me. I’ll tell the goddamn world what you did to us.”

  “Um,” Georgia pipes up. “Kinda too late for that.”

  “For what?” Spencer asks.

  “To keep this story between close friends.”

  I look around the room, realizing everyone is glued to their phones.

  Georgia hands hers to Winslow. It’s a live feed - someone is recording us minute by minute and posting it to social media.

  Everything she just said will never be erased.

  “Who is doing this?” she screams. “Stop recording me. Now. Stop it!” She’s hysterical, running around the room grabbing at peoples’ phones, trying to find the mole.

  I pull up the site, whoever is taping this is zoomed in on Winslow as mascara runs down her face. Each time she yells there are more viewers watching as this fallen princess loses more than her tiara. She is throwing away every last shred of her dignity.

  I can’t watch it - her fall.

  I take Spencer’s hand, dragging him from the room. Georgia calls after me, saying she is so sorry, that she had no idea. And I know she didn’t.

  We’re in Spencer’s car, driving away when the recording finally ends - whoever was taping it finally decided to end her misery. />
  Then Spencer gets a text:

  Sorry for hooking up with your little sis without telling you.

  I know I’ve been a dick more times than I can count.

  But I hope that live performance helped clear my name in your eyes.

  Love you, bro.

  And love that girl of yours too.

  I have your back - always.

  --Prescott

  9

  Spencer

  When we get back to my place, Charlie is buzzing with adrenaline, and so am I. I wanted Winslow to realize the pain she had caused, to have an understanding of just how despicable her actions were, and seeing her go batshit at the Ivy was something I never thought I’d live to see.

  “She’ll never set foot in there again,” I say, grabbing two beers from the fridge as Charlie pops us a bag of popcorn in the microwave. We’re having a low-key movie night, just the two of us. We turned off our phones and are going off the grid. After all the drama on campus, we want to spend the night off the radar of anyone.

  “Do you feel bad?” she asks, pouring the popped kernels in a bowl. “That footage is really rough.”

  I smirk. “Did you already forget what she did to you? Calling you Sluterella, recording us in bed? She doesn’t deserve our sympathy after what she did to you.”

  “I know, she was awful to both of us. I’ve never felt so violated.” Charlie grabs some napkins and we walk to my basement where I have an in home theater. We sit on a leather couch and I turn on the television. “I still can’t believe she slept with your brother when you were dating.”

  “Yeah, it was shitty. But, if she was trying to make me jealous it didn’t work. It just disgusted me. We were over long before she did that. I think I always knew what kind of person she was, I just didn’t want to believe it. She’s been a part of my life for so long.”

  “I’m not trying to make excuses for her, but what she said about feeling guilty, thinking she drove Ethan off the cliff because she was using him. That’s got to mess with a person’s head.”

  “Winslow's head was messed up before that.” I run a hand over my jaw. “But yeah, I think that might be part of it. I think she actually loved him in her own fucked up way. Ethan had this way about him.” I shake my head, remembering how much I wanted to be like my older brother. How I used to put him on a pedestal. “You think I was a womanizer, well Ethan was more notorious than I was. He was the original Princeton Charming. The king of the campus. He knew how to get what he wanted, at any cost.”

  “Meaning you think he was using Winslow too?”

  I nod. “Except now we know he was dealing with a shit ton of emotional baggage at the same time. They were probably using one another.”

  “I know she was horrible, but it makes me sad for her,” Charlie says, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

  I groan, pulling her legs into my lap. “Can we not spend the entire night talking about my ex-girlfriend?”

  She tosses a kernel at me, and I open my mouth in time to catch it. “I know, I’m done. I just had to get it out of my system.”

  “I’m just glad she won’t write any more shit about us,” I say, squeezing her thighs. “By the way, you were pretty fucking badass, you realize that? Most people are terrified of Winslow, but you held your ground. It was pretty fucking impressive.”

  “I was just sticking up for myself.” She swipes the remote from my hand. “Gimme that, I’ll choose the movie.”

  “Bossy,” I tease. “I like it.” I take a drink of my beer before setting it on the coffee table, as she begins to scroll through movie options. “I realize you want to change the subject and talking about yourself isn’t something you love to do - but I mean it. You were so incredible today.” Charlie’s cheeks flush and I pull her toward me. “You were strong and yet your heart was in such a good place that you were never cruel.”

  She shifts and straddles me, giving me one of her smiles that lights up her whole face. “You were pretty badass too.”

  “Don’t make this about me.”

  “But you were,” she insists. “You were my knight in shining armor today, stepping in and helping finish the fight once and for all.”

  “I think you’re the hero of your own story, Charlie.” I kiss her, my hands on the small of her back as I draw her to me. In her blue jeans and white t-shirt, she looks so wholesome and sweet, but her kiss tells a different story.

  I’ve corrupted my princess. One kiss and I woke a passion inside her that is comparable to my own.

  “You sure you wanna let me pick the movie?” she asks, mischief in her eyes, and something naughty. God, I love her.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  She licks her lips, pointing the remote at the Pay-Per-View channel. “Something like this?”

  I see what she’s picked. It’s called a Passionate Flick. I chuckle. “You know what that is?”

  She nods. “I’ve read the book,” she says. “It was pretty hot.”

  “When do you read romance novels?” I ask having only ever seen her reading textbooks.

  “There’s lots you don’t know about me. Now you’ll learn all my dirty little secrets since we’ll be living together.”

  I chuckle. “If this is the kind of dirty secret I can look forward too, we should have started shacking up a long time ago.”

  “Oh?” Her smile is contagious as she presses play on the movie. “You like the idea of your girlfriend reading steamy stories?”

  “How steamy?” I ask.

  “Really, really steamy.” When I cock an eyebrow at her she giggles. “Well, I had to do something to take care of myself. After all, I was a twenty-two-year-old virgin when we met. What did you think I did?”

  My cock stiffens, thinking about her getting off, her fingers teasing her creamy slit, climaxing with her hand. “You’d lie in bed at night and get off while Daphne was in the other bed?”

  She rolls her eyes, pressing her hands to my chest, still straddling me. “No. And for your information, Daphne was out a lot, which meant I could do what I pleased. And when she wasn’t, I’d go take a shower with my waterproof toy.”

  I almost choke on the piece of popcorn I put in my mouth. “Your what?” I take a harder look at my girlfriend, not having pegged her as a girl who...well, I don’t know what. I just never thought about it before.

  “My vibrator.” She’s smirking at me, I can tell she’s enjoying getting me flustered, her words turning me on.

  I groan. “God, I’m getting so hard.”

  “The movie that sexy already?” she asks, rolling off me and facing forward. The main characters are in bed together, naked and just about to fuck. That happened fast.

  I laugh, reaching for my beer to wash down the kernel that’s stuck in my throat. “No, not the movie. You. This conversation. Picturing you with a vibrator.”

  “I have a dildo too.”

  I spit out my beer. “God, you are just full of surprises.”

  “I can keep going if you want.” She winks. “I have lots of surprises.”

  I set down my beer and raise my hands. “By all means.”

  She wiggles her eyebrows as the actress on the screen begins stroking the actor. But we don’t need this movie to get in the mood. Charlie is on her knees, unbuttoning my jeans. Her hand pulls out my thick cock and she licks her lips. “This looks yummy,” she says.

  I shake my head, grinning. “What has gotten into you?”

  She shrugs, then teases my tip with her tongue. “It was exhilarating, taking control of our life like that, at the Ivy.”

  “Our life. I like the sound of that.” I run my fingers through her hair. “God, I love you, Charlie Hayes.”

  “Then stop talking and let me get to work.”

  “This is work?” I tease.

  “No,” she sighs. “This is bliss.”

  She takes me in her mouth, sucking me so damn good. My cock is hard and pulsing as she works her magic on my rod. Her fingers play with my balls, h
er eyes close and I watch her, loving the way she looks as she gets me off. So innocent yet so damn naughty. Charlie is everything I could ever want in a woman, a partner, a wife.

  The thought sends a nervous buzz of energy through me. I never considered getting married so young, but when I look at Charlie, I can’t imagine my life without her.

  Still, there will be plenty of time for that. She has grad school, and I still have to decide what I want to do about my own career. But, right now I need to concentrate on this night. Not plan out our future.

  Charlie’s eyes open as my cock thrums with come. “Come here, baby,” I say, wanting my girlfriend to sink down against my cock as I come.

  She slips off her clothes, her panties, and I pull her into my lap. Her pussy is slick and eager and mine. I run my hands over her bare ass as she sits down on me, right where she belongs.

  “God, your pussy is tight,” I moan. “It feels so fucking good.”

  She rocks her hips and I pull off her top, needing her big round tits in my face. I pull her nipple into my mouth, my cock raging and ready as I do. When I come inside her, it’s hard and fast and when she moans, her hands on my shoulder, I know there is a need in both of our eyes - for more.

  “Do you have your vibrator here?” I ask, wanting to give her every ounce of pleasure I can. Plus, the thought of watching her make herself come makes my balls tighten, my cock harden again.

  Charlie nods, licking those luscious lips of hers. “Wanna see it?”

  I nod, needing her spread out for me so I can fuck her until we are both panting for breath.

  “One sec,” she says, bare naked and bounding up the stairs. I move the coffee table aside, dim the lights, turn off the movie, and pull up a playlist I know she likes. When she comes back in, her breasts bouncing as she moves, I begin stroking my cock. I’m already hard as hell and ready to fuck my girl again.

  “Okay,” she says, her hand behind her back. “Now, I have a few choices, so you get to pick what hand. Right or left?”

  I grin, stepping toward her. “Left.”

  She chuckles. “Good choice,” she says, producing a pink vibrator, her confidence so damn sexy. “Maybe the movie wasn’t the right thing to watch, but this is.” She sits on the couch, spreading her knees, turning on the vibrator and pressing it to her wet slit.