The One Who Chose Me

Cheryl

He crouched down, his hands reaching for mine.

"Cheryl," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

I tried to say something but I couldn't. My whole body was shaking and I just stared at him as my breath came in short gasps.

How did Carlson know my name? Probably because he knows the name of their team analyst. But even that, I didn't expect him to know.

He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me up. I stumbled, my knees buckling beneath me. Everywhere felt painful, worst at my legs.

"Whoa, whoa, easy," he said, steadying me. His hands were firm on my arms, holding me upright.

I felt a sharp sting on my knees and I looked down, hissing in pain. Blood was dripping through the ripped fabrics of my leggings.

Who were those guys and why did they choose to steal my laptop? All my analytics since day one was there and I had one week to show father my progress.

They didn't even pick my phone or anything else. Just my laptop and other work equipment.

"You're bleeding," he said, his eyes fixed on my wounded knee, his voice became suddenly tense.

I looked up at his face, his eyes scanning my own and then down to my knees and checking if there was any other place I got hurt.

Carlson was known to be the cold type towards girls especially who throw themselves at him but I didn't know he could be this caring for a stranger.

I hope he doesn't get to see my journal that is now everywhere. He will obviously hate me and hate that he helped me from those thug men.

Remy came running back, he was breathing hard and his dark hair all scattered.

"They're gone," he said, panting. He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "I lost them. They were too fast and the securities couldn't catch up with them either."

Carlson's jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Fuck."

He looked down at me and without another word, he grabbed me and lifted me up like I weighed nothing.

"What—what are you doing?" I stammered, my hands instinctively gripping his shoulders.

"Taking you to the nurse," he said.

He carried me over to the bench and sat me down gently. I winced as my knees hit the cold metal chair. He crouched in front of me, examining my wounds. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line.

I could see his features clearly now.

He could pass for a Greek god. He had a strong sharp jaw. His dark hair was still messy as fuck, falling across his forehead in that way that always made my stomach flip. I could see a small faint scar near his eyebrow.

My heart was beating so hard I could barely breathe.

He's so close. He's so close to me. I never had expected in my whole life that Carlson will ever get this close to me talk less about examining my own wounds.

I was still staring when the door to the arena burst open.

"Oh my God!"

Celeste. Again. What the fuck is she doing here?

She came rushing in with Megan right behind her, she had that face and I knew she was about to show that silly fake concern she always displays when she tries to impress someone. Her hands were clasped together like she was praying.

"Cheryl!" she cried out, running toward us. "I heard what happened! I came as soon as I heard the security told me that you got robbed!"

She dropped to her knees beside me, grabbing my hands. Her eyes were wide, her voice trembling with fake emotion. She squeezed my fingers so hard it hurt.

"Oh, you poor thing. Are you okay? I was so worried. When I heard, I just—I couldn't believe it. I was so scared something terrible had happened to you."

I stared at her, my mouth open.

What the fuck is she doing?

She turned to Carlson, then mimicked a much softer voice, much different than what she uses in the house when she wants to get her ass in my stuff.

With her bottom lip trembling like she was about to cry.

"I'm so sorry about all this, Carlson," she said. "I know you're probably frustrated because of everything my sister wrote in her stupid journal and now you have to take care of this mess too. I'm so sorry for the mess she caused. She didn't mean to—well, actually, I don't know what she meant. But I'm sure she feels terrible."

I felt my stomach drop. Was she trying to forcefully get Carlson to see the journal? Oh fuck.

"It's all over school now," she continued, shaking her head sadly. "I'm sure you've seen it by now. I can't believe she would do something like this. It's so embarrassing. For her, I mean." She paused, looking at me with feigned pity. "I'll take her to the nurse so you don't have to deal with her anymore. You've got practice to focus on. You don't need this drama."

She reached for me, her fingers closing around my arm.

But Carlson moved before she could.

He stepped forward, his body blocking her. His gray-blue eyes were cold and glaring hard at Cheryl. He scooped me up into his arms again, cradling me against his chest like I weighed nothing.

"What journal are you fucking talking about?" he asked with a low angry tone that made Celeste step back a little bit.

"Oh, um... the one she wrote. The one with all the—" She looked at me, then back at him. "It's all around school. I thought you must have seen it by now. You can check the school portal. It's posted all over there."

I couldn't speak or breathe.

I felt so hurt. So humiliated. And she was standing there, pretending to care about me while stabbing me in the back.

Please, Celeste, I begged silently. Just get the fuck out of here.

Carlson stepped in front of Celeste, still holding me in his arms.

"Are you more concerned about some fucking journal," he said, "or your sister?"

Celeste opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her face went pale slowly while she kept her face down nervously.

It's funny and weird seeing my sister who is always high of herself and bully other people tremble so much when Carlson talks.

He pushed past her, shoving her shoulder as he passed, and walked toward the door with me in his arms.

I looked over his shoulder and saw Celeste's face while Megan rushed to hold her shoulder rolling her eyes at me.

I knew my days after today was going to be hard because of this, but looking at the bright side... the boy I'd been fantasizing about for years was literally carrying me in his arms.

If this was a dream, I didn't want to wake up.