Jason POV:
After the disaster I created for myself yesterday, it was clear—I needed to fix this. If I wanted any chance with Ella, the bet had to go. I had to tell Dylan and Max to back off, let this whole thing die before it did even more damage. They could have the damn yacht if they wanted it, though none of them deserved it. Neither of them had made any progress with Ella anyway. If we were being technical, I was the winner. I'd kissed her, even if it wasn't consensual (and yeah, I still hated myself for that), and I'd figured out her double life as the hoodie girl and the waitress. But that didn't matter anymore. The bet wasn't worth it.
I'd told her I liked her. Really liked her.
And now? Now I needed to fight for her—without the shadow of a stupid, juvenile bet hanging over my head.
I texted Dylan and Max before class: We need to talk. Meet me after class.
