“Punk,” I cursed under my breath, bending over to pick up my backpack.
“Hey, Lettie,” a familiar masculine voice greeted me.
Slowly, I raised my head, and there he was, Ian Grant, towering over me. He wore a nice smile on his face, then squatted to help me gather the books that had spilled from my backpack.
“Hey,” I replied, my voice soft and gentle.
It was silent between us until we were done gathering the books, and my backpack was zipped.
“Thank you,” I said to him, rising to my feet.
“Anytime.” He did the same.
Ian’s unwavering gaze was starting to make me really uncomfortable—especially with all those eyes shifting toward us.
He was one of the school’s golden boys who always attracted unnecessary attention to himself. I, on the otherhand, was just a regular girl who always avoided unnecessary attention.
I noticed a few girls leaning in to whisper to each other. And judging by the envious looks on their faces, it was clear that they were gossiping about me.
Yeah, I didn’t like it. Not their gossip—I couldn’t care less about that. Their stares. It was annoying.
“So, uh….” Ian broke the silence between us. “I’m throwing a party at my place tonight, and I’d like for you to be there.” He handed me a flyer.
I hesitated for a moment before politely declining his invitation. “I’m sorry, I won’t be available tonight.”
“Come on,” he insisted. “We’ve been classmates for years, and you haven’t been to any party—as far as I know.”
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” I raised an eyebrow.
“No, it’s not. I’m just….” His voice trailed off, and he heaved a soft sigh. “Look, I’m just trying to help you loosen up a little bit.”
I slung the backpack over my shoulder. “I appreciate you doing that. I really do.”
“So you’re not coming?”
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, at least I tried.”
My lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah, you did.”
He looked at me for a bit, as if trying to figure out why I was the way I was. “See you around, Lettie.”
I gave a curt nod.
Ian walked past me, his palm tapping my left shoulder. “Life’s too short to be serious,” he whispered in my ear. “It won’t kill you to have fun sometimes.” And with that, he walked away, passing his flyers to others who were interested.
All around me, everyone was happy, reveling in their freedom—talking about how they’d get high and wasted tonight.
This was the difference between them and me. While they’d be partying and having the time of their lives tonight, I’d be in the restaurant, working my ass off for shitty pay that barely covered my bills.
We weren’t the same. We were cut from different cloths.
I strapped on my headphones, played my favorite Meghan Trainor song, “Better When I’m Dancin’,”then glided through the hallway with a composed expression on my face.
The world faded into the background as I let the melody transport me into a fantasy realm. There, I had my own personal party—dancing and grooving.
***
