The Bet

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Abraham and his friends were hanging out at a bar, completely relaxed. They were seventeen, almost eighteen, in their final year of school. And as daddy's boys, they could get into bars even though they were underage. They were about to graduate from senior year, and as a last-year dare, the challenge was to seduce the quietest, most studious girl in school. The bet was simple: make her fall in love over the course of a month, get her into bed, and then act like she never existed.

"Here's the thing" "this isn't your typical story where the popular guy falls for his target. Unfortunately for Abraham, that's all it ever was: a damn bet."

"Dude," one of his friends said, "what if we do one last game this year? Next year we'll be in college."

"Speak clearly and be specific," Abraham snapped. He hated when people beat around the bush. "What kind of game?"

"A bet. Let's make a bet. You have one month to get any girl you want into bed."

Abraham burst out laughing. No woman could resist his charm.

"That's easy. Any girl falls for my sweet talk," he said with a cocky grin.

"Not all of them. There's one who's never even looked at you. One who's never drooled over you or your muscles," his friend said, trying to provoke him and wound his ego.

"Oh, really? And who is this woman who supposedly ignores me?" Abraham asked.

"Emilia. The class bookworm. The know-it-all. The one who swallowed the entire dictionary and takes nearly an hour on every presentation."

"Ha! Seriously? You want me to get that girl into bed? Easy," he said, laughing and taking a sip of his drink.

"Why do you say it's easy?" his friends asked.

"Because Emilia -- even though she tries to hide it -- I know she's in love with me. I always catch her staring. She's insignificant to me, which is why I've never bothered getting close to her, not even to take her to bed. But since you guys want me to prove I can sleep with her and destroy her, I'll do it. I only need two weeks to make her mine."

"Then two weeks it is!" they all said, dying of laughter.

And so Abraham began slowly getting closer to Emilia. First by asking her about schoolwork, then making her laugh, telling her how pretty she looked that day, asking her to help him study for exams, and so on.

One day, Abraham asked Emilia out. She obviously said yes, because she saw nothing wrong with how he'd been acting.

"Where are we going, Abraham? I'm asking so I know what to wear," she said, all nervous excitement.

"Relax, gorgeous. We're going to the movies, then grabbing something to eat. Wear something comfortable -- you look beautiful in anything."

And it was true. Emilia was beautiful. She was simply a studious girl who didn't like getting involved in drama. She hadn't even had her first kiss, because her whole world revolved around her studies, and she wanted to make her parents proud.

The weekend finally arrived, and a very -- very -- nervous Emilia was waiting for the gorgeous Abraham, her prince. Her mother had obviously helped her get ready so she'd look beautiful for her first date. Her father, of course, was not happy, but that was just typical dad jealousy.

"And this boy you're going out with today, sweetheart -- does he want something serious?" her father said. "I want to meet him. Invite him inside."

"Daddy, I can't invite him in right now. It's our first date -- we're just getting to know each other. Please, Daddy. I've always liked him."

"Oh, is this the kid you're always talking about? The one you're always telling your mother is handsome? That one? The one you're in love with and all that?"

"Yes, Daddy. That's the one, and he finally noticed me."

"Well, he's an idiot, because you're beautiful. And if he didn't notice you before, it's because he's simply an idiot -- an imbecile who doesn't recognize what's right in front of him."

Ding dong. The doorbell rang, and poor Emilia's heart leapt with excitement. When she opened the door, she saw an incredibly handsome Abraham standing there. God, that man is perfect, she told herself.

"Ready?" he asked without even looking at her, without admiring all the effort the girl had put into looking pretty.

"Yes, I'm ready. Let me grab my bag and we'll go." But before she turned around, Emilia said, "Would you like to come in? My parents want to meet you."

"There's no time, Emilia. Another day," he said, cutting her off. Because there was absolutely no way he was going inside to meet that girl's parents. He didn't even care about her as a girlfriend, let alone meeting her family. How stupid, Abraham thought.

"Oh! Another day, then," she said with a sweet smile.

The girl ran inside to grab her bag, said goodbye to her parents, and left with Abraham for their date.

Not once was Abraham tender, but to her, he was absolutely perfect. God, how naive. She talked and talked and talked, and Abraham pretended to listen, but the truth was he was already sick of it. All he wanted was to get her into bed, win that damn bet, and finally be rid of that fool.

For Emilia, the afternoon was perfect. She was by the side of her dream guy, the only love she'd ever known. Ever since they were young, Abraham smelled incredible -- he wore a cologne that drove her crazy, something like pine and wood with a citrus note. He truly was perfect.

Abraham wasn't even paying attention to his date or the person sitting beside him. Once everything was over, he simply dropped her off at home and sped away.

Emilia, on the other hand, walked into her house glowing with happiness. She told her mother every detail about how perfect the date with Abraham had been. They were very close, which is why her mother knew how her daughter felt about the boy. But if she had known that this kid would be her daughter's downfall, she would have done something. Unfortunately, Emilia painted Abraham as nothing short of a god.

To be continued...

Abraham at 18 years old.

Abraham at 28 years old.

Emilia at 17 years old.

Emilia at 27 years old.

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