Fate seemed to enjoy its little jokes. As soon as I entered the classroom, there was Quinn Monroe, surrounded and fawned over by a throng of admirers. They were clearly trying hard to win her favor, and as soon as they saw me, their looks turned hostile.
“Some people really have no shame, showing up for class after making a scene with someone else’s boyfriend,” someone in the crowd sneered.
Thanks to last night’s drama, my reputation had been flipped from being the wronged party to someone accused of stealing someone else’s boyfriend. Quinn had certainly gone to great lengths to tarnish my image.
“Forget it. Simon Charles wouldn’t even look twice at someone like her. She’s not worth talking about.”
“She’s just jealous because Simon dumped her for someone better.”
“Quinny is so much classier than her.”
What a smug, the words ran through my mind.
Just then, our Music Appreciation teacher entered the room. Once the bell rang, the roll call began.
“Luna Halle.” “Here.”
“Rosie Ward.” “Here.”
“Nicole Monroe.”
No one else stood up, so I casually responded as if she’s not calling me, “Here.”