Torn Between His Rich Lie And Your Poor Love
he offered, full of concern.
“No, no. I just want to crash after this. I’ll be fine,” I replied quickly, guilt washing over me.
“We’re heading back to the dorms after anyway,” Freda chimed in, trying to cover up my lie. “We need the rest.”
“Speaking of stress,” Amaya said, her tone dripping with mischief, “isn’t that your girlfriend, Oliver?”
She pointed toward someone walking in our direction.
Of course it was Lindsay. Surprisingly, she wasn’t with her usual set of minions. Her sport joggers barely covered her bum, and she’d turned her jersey into a crop top. I honestly wonder how she gets away with indecency. Pretty privilege is definitely a thing.
Bab Populer