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Gordon began to shake as Lizzy turned her back on him and walked away, dark spots swarming his vision as she matched her pace with the student emerging from around the corner.
No one has ever denied me! His inner voice stated as thunderously as the boiling blood rumbling in his ears.
Perhaps, the more exacting sentiment was that having had his stepmother shroud him with indulgences he wouldn’t otherwise aware of its existence, and others beg him to either desperately join his exclusive clique or be spared from further torment, Gordon had seldom had to request for anything in the first place.
He narrowed his eyes considerably as Lizzy revealed her beaming face to Michael, her melodious cackle might as well be a hard slap on his face. If resorting to some semblance of grovelling was humiliating enough, the sting of Lizzy’s refusal to do his bidding only fuelled his wrath further.
Gordon stared at Lizzy as though he wished to lazer the back of her head, hell-bent to make the rest of her days at St. Andrew’s utterly miserable. In addition to costing him fifty bucks for debunking his conviction that her friendship with Michael wouldn’t last longer than a week before the son-of-billionaire’s fascination fizzled out, she had also usurped the alliance that was rightfully his. And in his universe, the pairing of Michael Bradford’s status with someone whom ought to be scraping the bottom of the oil-greased barrel was simply… incomprehensible.
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