62

GLYNDON Today is just not my day. Not only did the girls grill me about all the Killian drama, but I also got an earful from Professor Skies due to being late. The icing on the cake was bumping into a glass door after class. In my defense, the last one happened because of all the people who kept watching me as if I were an exotic animal. Attention isn’t my scene, but that wanker went ahead and put me at the forefront of everyone’s mind. They wouldn’t stop talking about me behind my back, whispering, and murmuring, and making my anxiety shoot up. I contemplated hiding in the bathroom for a bit, but then I thought that I don’t really owe people anything and shouldn’t be feeling ashamed about that kiss. Yes, the bastard is at the top of my shit list, but that doesn’t mean I have to feel any form of shame. So I held my head high, barely, finished my classes, and then went to the art studio. We were supposed to paint a nude today, with one model for about fifteen students, but I realized ha