Chapter 19: An Understanding

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Stacy

On Sunday afternoon, I found myself standing in front of Bryce's condo unit.

I wore my trademark pink headband over my blonde crown, my waist-length tresses cascading to my small waist, which was cinched by the salmon-colored singlet I teamed with a thin white cardigan, inky black jeans ending in creamy white peep-toe flats.

For nineteen years, I had always been the one chased by guys. I should have known sooner or later that I would need to swallow my pride and pursue the one person who had the ability to capture my cactus heart.

Before I could lose my resoluteness, I raised my right fist and rapped on the silver door.

Knock Knock--Wait. There was more than one person inside the unit.

My sky blue eyes squinted into the small glass window next to the shiny door.

Two.. five.. nine.. fifteen.. twenty..

What the hell? There were more than twenty young women inside that living room!

Okay, don't jump to conclusions, Stacy.

Perhaps I'd gotten the wrong condo? I glanced to my right. No, I have the right door.

I firmly told myself in a low voice: "I'm Stacy Eris Sta. Ana and I fear no one."

My right fist was about to knock on the door for the third time when it abruptly swung open to reveal a tall 19-year-old male with sleek brown hair and dark blue eyes and he wore a pale violet button-down shirt, khaki pants, and black shoes.

His hand stayed on the doorknob as his piercing gaze found mine. "Stacy?" he whispered.

Behind him, a crowd of girls my age and dressed in stylish clothes paused their chatter.

Twenty-three.. twenty-five.. twenty-six. Huh. Wasn't that.. the same number of his exes?

Most of the teenage girls inside the condo shot me scrutinizing stares, a few of them were either frowning or scowling, out of envy or hatred, I wasn't sure. I was impervious to being disliked for my excessive good looks. Beautiful people have it rough, too. At least some were sending me polite smiles.

My suspicion was confirmed when I spotted Scarlet Salvador and Heather Salazar, the former gave me a faint, regal smile, whilst the latter glowered at me, her arms folded across her chest.

"Stacy," Bryce repeated, garnering my attention. I looked at him and he asked: "What are you doing here?"

No need to get riled up, Stacy, I mentally chided myself. He was only curious of my unexpected appearance.

I cleared my throat before meeting his ocean-blue eyes. "I.. was actually wondering if you had time to talk.." My pretty eyes surveyed the gaggle of girls in cute tops, jeans, and skirts. My gaze eventually settled on Bryce's perplexed expression. "But I see you're indisposed today, so I'll come again another time," I offered, maintaining a tough facade when inside, I wanted to lock myself in a bathroom and slide down to the tiled floor in tears.

"No." Bryce moved towards me until he was behind me, one hand cupping my elbow. "I want you to stay here," he said, and I lifted my chin to see his affable smile. "I'll explain this situation, if you're willing to listen?" He carefully led me inside the condo, as if unsure of what I wanted to do.

I let him guide me into the living room until the two of us were standing side by side, facing the crowd of girls, varying from blondes to brunettes to redheads, a majority of them in makeup.

Bryce swept his left hand around the roomful of girls.He let go of my elbow and said: "They are all my former girlfriends."

"I can see that," I uttered in an icy tone, keeping my arms lowered to my sides, knowing I conveyed a confident stance. If I crossed my arms, they would assume I was pissed at them.

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