The Four

- Analeigh's POV -

I emerged slowly from the stairwell of the roof, peering out the crack of the door. There, sitting against on the bench the wall where I was hoping he'd be, was Alex.

I took a deep breath and pushed myself through. I held the handkerchief in my hand, which I was actively willing to stop trembling. Alex turned to look at me, but made no move to get up, so I walked over to the bench. Even sitting, his line of sight was nearly even with mine when I stood before him.

His blue eyes gleamed at me. "Hello."

I smiled shyly. "Hi. I, uh... I came to give this back to you." I thrust my arm out and presented the handkerchief.

He eyed it quizzically. "You can keep it. I wasn't expecting it back."

"Oh." I pulled it to my chest and stared down at it. For a moment, my mind raced over what to say next. "Well, I... still owe you."

"Owe me?"

I nodded, finally meeting his unwavering gaze. "Yeah. For saving me last week." He didn't respond, so I continued: "If you hadn't been there, I would've been in a lot of trouble. So... thank you."

"It was nothing. I would've done it for any girl," he replied coolly.

I blinked at him and swallowed. "Right, of course you would. Sorry."

He stood up. "You apologize too much."

"Sorry, I jus-," I paused, biting my lip. Well then.

He laughed lightly, making me blink up at him in surprise. I hadn't seen any of The Four laugh before, and had begun to think they were humanly incapable.

"I'll see you around, Analeigh." He smiled, and took his leave.

I remained in place after he'd gone, frozen in bewilderment. My heart thumped in my chest, right up against his handkerchief.

He knew my name.

---

I was walking through the English hall distractedly, still absorbed in thoughts of the rooftop, when I heard someone shout my name. I looked up to see Evan and Sam waving me frantically over to Evan's locker, which wasn't far down from mine.

Before I had even fully reached him, Evan started running his mouth. "Analeigh, you won't believe this. I can't even believe this!" He flashed a black poker chip out to me, the silver number "4" right in my face.

My mouth dropped. What?

"Evan just opened his locker and BOOM!" Sam added, hand gestures and all. "There it was!"

"Wow, I actually get to challenge The Four!" Evan excitedly ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in a million places. "Analeigh, what do you think my terms should be? I can make them buy my lunch for the rest of the school y-!"

I snatched the poker chip from his hand, cutting him off.

"Hey! That's mine!" He whined, reaching for it. I swatted him away.

"No, Evan! Are you crazy?"

"Analeigh, it's Evan's poker chip," Sam lectured. "It's not like they're challenging you again."

I grunted. "Th- that's not what I meant!" I looked back to Evan. "Do you even know how to play poker?"

He frowned. "No."

"I'm telling you, they know that! They're gonna beat you and make you do something ridiculous for their terms!"

"Wow, thanks for the encouragement, Ana," Evan said sarcastically.

As if on cue, Sam and Evan's phones chimed in unison. They pulled them out to look, and I watched both their expressions change from boredom to astonishment.

"Oh my God," Sam said breathlessly, and began reading aloud. "Evan Lewis and Analeigh Taylor have been invited to challenge The Four. Your poker match is scheduled for next Monday at 4:00 p.m. Please prepare yourselves and don't be late."

I shook my head. Unbelievable.

"This was posted on The Fed," Evan said in a hushed voice. "We can't ignore it now. People will give us hell."

"I'll take care of it," I said. I stormed away from them, poker chip in hand.

---

Intent to head home to Brooklyn, I power-walked through the main campus gates but came to a screeching halt. Not 50 feet from the entrance was a middle-aged man in a black suit and tie with sunglasses, holding a white piece of paper with my name, ANALEIGH TAYLOR, written in thick block letters. He was leaning against a blacked-out Escalade parked on the curb. He saw me gaping at him and straightened himself.

"Ms. Taylor?" He asked, right hand out to shake.

"Who's asking?" I ignored his handshake and gripped the straps of my backpack.

He chuckled and lowered his arm, accepting defeat. "I work for Mr. Vanderbilt. He asked me to pick you up from school."

My jaw hung. "Excuse me?"

"He wants to apologize and pay for your broken phone."

What kind of sick joke was this?

"I... I have work soon."

"It shouldn't be long. I'll drive you afterwards, as well. Wherever you like." He opened the door and gestured inside. I narrowed my eyes hesitantly, but nevertheless slid in.

Not 15 minutes later, the Man In Black pulled up to a brownstone building that took up an entire street corner on Central Park West, with a doorman that resembled a human Nutcracker on guard. I was escorted through the entirely marble lobby to a rich wood elevator, which the Man In Black joined me in and pressed "P" for me. He then quickly flashed some white key card onto a flat black panel underneath the buttons. In response, it flashed a small green light, and an electronic voice said "penthouse" over the intercom above.

The Penthouse? Terrific.

After a long ride up, the elevator doors opened, beckoning me to walk along a chic grey stone wall for maybe ten feet before the space opened up into what can best be described as an architect's wet dream.

A modern, white L-shaped couch was situated in the center of the most open space I'd ever seen in New York, flanked on one side by two plush brown leather chairs and atop a sleek grey rug. The couch faced a double-sided, black marble fireplace that disappeared into the 20-foot-high ceiling above it, and which naturally separated the living room from what looked to be the kitchen. The back wall was entirely made up of ceiling-high windows that, as I stepped into the living space, offered unbelievable views of Central Park.

I turned and inspected the space from the couch's perspective: to the side of a light wood bookcase, a spiral black staircase disappeared up into a second floor, where a balcony overlooked the living room below but was shielded by solid black rails, which disappeared into 2-story solid white walls decorated with a gigantic modern art piece. The back left corner of the first floor space was a dining room, featuring a gorgeous frosted glass table with ten brown leather chairs.

I was an ant in this place. A petrified, dumbstruck ant.

And this was just what I could see from the living room.

Alone - the Man In Black had never exited the elevator after me - I strolled over to the windows to look out at the park below. I took solace in the fact that everyone looked like ants, too, from this great a height.

A throat cleared behind me, and I whirled around. Travis was leaning over the second-story balcony railing, hands clasped in front of him.

"Thanks for taking your sweet time, Travis," I said up to him. My voice bounced off the walls of the vast space.

He ignored this and disappeared behind the balcony, only to begin descending the spiral staircase. His long figure emerged around its corner, stepping down and walking towards me. He finally plopped down on the couch and peered at me, as I stood awkwardly against the windows. He looked more casual than I'd seen him: he wore a loose fitting, short-sleeve tee, black chinos and blood red dress shoes.

"Is this... your house?" I asked, unable to bear the silence.

"It's my penthouse," he replied, dark eyes fixed on me.

How informative.

"I heard you want to pay for my new phone."

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips. "I thought I'd show you what could be yours. In addition to a new phone, of course."

"What?"

"I'm letting you be my girlfriend."

"What?"

He couldn't be serious.

"It's true," he said, throwing a leg over the other and relaxing into the couch. "The perks are endless, really. You can walk and eat with me on campus, I can get you out of any class you want, whenever you want, and you'll have access to all my upperclassmen benefits. I'll drive you to and from school, and help you with your homework. I'll even let you beat me at poker. We'll go to any restaurant of your choice on your birthday. I can also take you on three vacations a year. You'll be the envy of the entire school." He paused, evidently satisfied with his monologue, and smiled at me haughtily. "Tell me, how happy are you right now?"

I gawked at him, dumbstruck. Silence hung between us as I tried to make sense of my thoughts.

"Happy?" I repeated slowly, deliberately. Finally, I pursed my lips and returned his smile in jest. "Not a chance."

I promptly began in the direction of the door, but didn't make it to the edge of the rug when his hand seized my forearm forcefully. I whirled around and scowled at him, but he didn't loosen his grip.

He looked bewildered at me, but his jaw was clenched. "Where are you going?"

"Home. This is a waste of my time."

"I've just made you an offer you can't refuse," he said harshly.

I wrestled my arm out of his grip and faced him fully. "Consider it refused!"

His dark eyes were wild with anger now, hands balled into fists. "You better not come crying back to me," he warned. "I won't accept you."

"That won't happen."

"What is your problem?"

"Have you lost your mind? Why in the world do you think I would date you?" I exclaimed, truly at a loss.

"Why wouldn't you?" He shot back. "Do you have any idea what you're passing up?"

"You..." I stuttered. My mind was overwhelmed with every unpleasant encounter I'd had with this intolerable guy. I suddenly thought of the most recent. "You dealt Evan a poker chip!"

His expression darkened. "Who? That dog of yours?"

"He's my friend!" I exclaimed.

"Why are you friends with that loser?"

"I like Evan a thousand times more than I'll ever like you," I spat.

"You have terrible taste."

"I don't care what you think! And for your information, we've already decided, we're not playing your game."

He took a single step toward me. "You don't get to decide."

My chest rose and fell with angry breaths. "I have no interest in your rules, just like I have no interest in dating you." I spun on my heel and charged toward the door, absolutely done with this nonsense.

"You'll regret this," his voice rang out crossly behind me. I came to a stop. "I can have whatever I want in this world."

I turned, found his eyes and scoffed. "You will never have me, Travis Vanderbilt."