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Fucking hormones.
I wondered if Amazon sold vibrators for same-day delivery, then realized I had no money. Ugh. Being poor sucked serious ass. Not that I was in love with the whole entitled, richer-than-God lifestyle, but it would be nice to have enough money in the bank to afford personal care items.
And that’s what a vibrator was, right?
I needed some serious personal care right now. Like at least two hours of in-depth personal care with a hot guy. Or three of them.
My brain short-circuited at the thought of fucking Harley, Brax, and Quinn. At the same time. Was it even possible? I pondered that question while getting dressed in my usual outfit of baggy sweatpants and a shapeless hoodie. I had bag lady chic nailed. Pretty sure Anna Wintour would be booking me for a Vogue cover any day now.
That made me snort with laughter. The idea of being on the cover of Vogue was a million miles from my current reality. Like in a different universe. Not that I would have wanted to even if my father was still someone important. Being in the spotlight had never appealed. I couldn’t imagine anything worse actually.
All I wanted was to be myself, do the things I loved, and live a quiet life. I didn’t care much about the money. As long as I had enough for a home, food, and other basics, that was fine with me. Money didn’t motivate me, unlike many of my peers. I felt certain that Brax and Harley came from wealthy families. Quinn too. That was the norm around here. Being wealthy and privileged was all well and good, but it made it difficult to know whether friends liked you for who you were or what you could give them.
It was the main reason I’d shunned most of my peers growing up. The people who cozied up to me at school were mostly the social climbers who aspired to greater wealth than they already had. Given my dad had been on the Forbes richest people list for many years, was it really surprising I was popular?
No wonder I stayed out of the public eye. Unlike many of the kids with parents in my father’s social circle, I wasn’t papped outside nightclubs or movie premiers on the regular. Most people had no clue who I really was. Or they hadn’t until recently. It wasn’t until my father’s spectacular fall from grace that the world’s media even knew he had a daughter. I was lucky there were hardly any photos of me out there. It made it easier to hide.
I had used social media, but I never posted selfies. Just photos of things I liked, such as cute cats, a glorious sunset, or other equally innocuous subjects. On Michael’s advice, I’d deleted all my accounts after Dad’s arrest. He said it was too risky and keeping them would only encourage people to send me hate messages. Or figure out where I was.
The thought of being outed to the entire student body made me feel sick. If people found out I was here, the press would descend on me like vultures. I would instantly become the most despised person on campus. It was likely that at least some of the people here had family members affected by the collapse of my dad’s investment company. He’d only targeted the super-wealthy, which was almost everyone at this college.
If they found out who I was, I was fucked.
My phone pinged with an email notification, and I glanced down. It was from Brax. To my surprise, he’d already sent over his additions to our notes, along with some suggestions for things we could include in our presentation.
I read through it, somewhat incredulous at how thorough he’d been. Maybe I had underestimated him? Perhaps he wasn’t such a lazy ass after all?
The email ended with a suggestion we meet in the library this evening. I thought about replying then decided it was pointless. We both had a lecture with Professor Han this morning, so I’d see him there.
Although I hated to admit it, part of me was looking forward to seeing him.
I pulled on a baseball cap and headed down to the cafeteria to grab some breakfast. My stomach growled as I trotted downstairs. This morning’s run had used up a lot of calories and I hadn’t been eating all that well lately, so I needed to refuel before my clothes got too loose. I couldn’t afford to buy more.
The cafeteria was half empty. It was a bit too early for most students; classes rarely started before 10 AM so 9 AM was the busiest time. I always tried to avoid the place around then. There was no point drawing attention to myself.
“Hey, Stella, isn’t it?” The girl from my first day, Avery, I think she’d said her name was, hustled over with a dazzling smile on her face. “How are you settling in?”
“Yeah, fine.” I tried to move past her, but she blocked my path.
“I’ve not seen you around campus much,” she said, obviously fishing for information. Fucking journalists made me so angry. They were like leeches, sucking all the joy from my existence. Objectively, I knew they were capable of performing a public service, like outing slimy politicians trying to cover up sex scandals, but after having my entire life picked over like a dumpster, they were not my favorite people.
I had a sneaking suspicion my absolute contempt for her ilk was written all over my face because Avery took a step back when I snapped at her.
“Been busy studying. Anything else you’d like to know?”
Her smile slipped and I felt bad for being such a bitch, she was probably only being friendly, then I reminded myself how much damage people like her had done to me and Dad in the last six months.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry or anything. I’m a student mentor, so it’s my job to check up on new transfers and shit.” She smiled again but this time there was a calculating edge to it, as if she’d sensed blood in the water.
Inwardly I screamed. My complete overreaction to her innocent inquiry had probably triggered some fucking journalist alert. Now she’d be looking more closely at me, digging into my life to find out who I was and why I was so defensive. Fuck. I’d really shot myself in the foot.
I back-peddled furiously in the name of damage limitation.
“It’s OK, just feeling a bit jaded this morning. Late night, ya know?” I pasted a fake smile on my face, and she grinned back.
“Yeah, I can relate. I went to a party off-campus last night and drank way too much!”
“Been there, done that!” I rolled my eyes and laughed while cringing inside. So not true. I didn’t do parties or drink much. Not my scene at all.
