Jules POV
I slipped into Professor Martinez's lecture hall fifteen minutes late, still wearing my Mel's Diner polo under my hoodie. The grease smell from Mel’s place follows me like all the time.
Every head turns. Whispers ripple through the rows.
"Miss Rowan." Professor Martinez stops mid-sentence. "How kind of you to join us."
"Sorry, I…"
"Take a seat."
I slide into the back row, trying to ignore the way people lean away from me. The girl next to me wrinkles her nose and shifts her chair.
Professor Martinez used to smile when I entered her classroom. Used to call on me first, praise my insights. Last semester, she nominated me for a research assistant position.
Now she won't look at me.
"As I was saying before the interruption," she continues, "your midterm papers are due Friday
