The Girl Who Had Everything Except Him

I almost didn’t step out of the car. “Miss Rothschild, we’ve arrived.” Of course we had. I stared at my reflection in the glass for a second longer than necessary. Hair perfect. Lip gloss subtle. Expression… uninterested. “Open the door,” I said. The driver rushed, like they always do. The moment my heel touched the ground, I felt it. Eyes. Whispers. “Is that Stella Rothschild?” “Her family literally funded—” “God, she’s stunning—” I slid my sunglasses up slowly, letting them look properly. They always do. They always stare. That’s how it works. “Orientation hall?” I asked a random girl without really seeing her. “Straight and left.” “Hmm.” I walked off before she could say anything else. Prestigious university. Elite crowd. Future CEOs, founders, politicians. And then… people like me. People who don’t earn their way in. We buy it. I pushed open the lecture hall door— —and then I forgot how to breathe. He was standing near the window. Not trying. Not posing. Not… performing. White shirt. Sleeves rolled just enough to show his wrists. Slightly messy hair like he didn’t care. Glasses. Of course he wore glasses. Nerd. But— God. Why did he look like that? “Move,” someone whispered behind me. I didn’t. Because at that exact moment— he looked up. And our eyes met. Nothing happened. No smile. No shock. No recognition. He just looked at me— like I was… nobody. Excuse me? I walked in slowly, masking the irritation with calm. Sat in the front row. Obviously. “Hey… you’re Stella Rothschild, right?” a girl next to me whispered. “Depends. Who are you?” “Anika.” “Okay.” She waited. I didn’t respond. She got the hint. But my attention— traitor that it is— kept slipping back. He was three rows behind. Notebook open. Actually writing notes. On the first day. I leaned slightly. Just enough to see him better. “Who are you looking at?” Anika whispered. “I’m not looking.” “You literally turned your whole body.” “I’m observing.” “Observing the hot nerd?” I paused. “…find out his name.” She grinned. “On it.” The professor started talking. Something about discipline. Excellence. Expectations. I didn’t care. His voice. I turned again. More obvious this time. I didn’t care. “His name is Joseph Williams,” Anika whispered. “Scholarship student. Apparently like… crazy smart. And poor.” I didn’t like the way she said that. “Stop talking,” I said. Joseph Williams. The name felt wrong and right at the same time. The lecture ended. Everyone started moving. Noise. Chaos. Conversations. “Come, let’s go talk to him,” Anika said. “No.” “Why not?” “I don’t go up to people.” But then— he walked past me. Close. Too close. I noticed everything. The way his sleeves were uneven. The ink stain on his finger. The fact that he didn’t smell like money. Just… clean. Simple. Real. He glanced at me. Just for a second. And then he looked away. And kept walking. No double take. No curiosity. No interest. I stood there. Still. “Stella?” Anika called. I didn’t respond. Because something inside me— shifted. For the first time in my life— someone didn’t care who I was. And I hated it. I turned slowly. Looking at the door he just walked through. “Change of plan,” I said. Anika smirked. “Oh?” I picked up my bag. Calm. Certain. “I’m going to make Joseph Williams look at me.” Because I’m Stella Rothschild. And I don’t get ignored. Ever.