With Jesse at school, the apartment felt too quiet. Nothing else to distract me, I grabbed my laptop, balanced it on my knees, and scrolled through job postings. I might be needing one soon. The reality of yesterday hit hard: I’d fought with Clara, my supposed tutor, and maybe my modeling career was over before it had even begun.
Halfway through another vacancy listing, my phone buzzed against the bed.
Zayne: Why are you late for class today?
I frowned at the screen. Class? With who? I typed back quickly.
His reply came almost instantly. Didn’t you give me two solutions yesterday? I picked one.
Which one? Dating Clara or a new tutor?
Come over and find out.
That text was all it took. I launched myself into the shower like the future of my life depended on how fast I scrubbed shampoo
