IVY
“Is that all you want, Ivy? No shoes or anything else?” Sierra asks as she examines me, seemingly oblivious of the heat in the room.
“Yes,” I clear my throat and force a smile.
“I’m more comfortable in faded jeans anyway.”
It’s a bad joke, but she chuckles regardless.
“Let’s go then. You can wear something of mine if we need any more dresses for you.”
My fake smile spreads across my cheeks.
“Of course.”
The total comes up to $20,247.
For dresses.
That’s almost my entire yearly tuition.
For f*****g dresses.
Knox doesn’t even blink as he hands over that matte black card like it’s money in f*****g monopoly.
How wealthy is he?
Twenty thousand dollars could cover my spring semester, could help begin to pay off the debt Harold says I owe him.
But instead, it’s buying dr
