The rest of my economics class passed by without any more stares or comments directed at me. That was my last class of the day, so I left the academic building and headed for the student parking lot. Mutterings and staring still followed me as I went, but I was hoping that word about my little speech in econ would go around and everyone would stop their childish whispers.
But I meant what I said. They could think whatever they wanted about me. At the end of the day, it was my choice how their wrong assumptions affected me.
And I was going to choose to ignore them.
With my head held high, I walked to the busy parking lot. Isabella had texted me that she would send a car to pick me up and take me to their house for Michelle’s tutoring session.
My mouth dropped open when I saw what was waiting for me.
One of the Laken’s drivers—wearing a black suit, complete with a black chauffeur hat—was standing in front of a black Rolls-Royce with a sign that said ‘Miss Lowett’.
