Page 20 of Honest With You

I overheard comments about what I looked like and how beneath him I was, from girls who didn’t even bother being subtle about it with one girl going as far as calling methat short Asian girl.Racist, much?

I yank the scrunchie out of my hair and use it to shield my face because this girl beside me just tried to take my picture.

It’s like being back in Seattle all over again. But this time, everyone was looking down on me instead of kissing up. I was really looking forward to being in the background here.

For once, I wanted to be invisible.

No one here knows I’mtheLucas Torres’ daughter.

Yup, that guy. The guy who owns Torres Entertainment group.

A multimedia conglomerate that boasts award-winning recording superstars and has countless A list actors and models on its roster. Not to mention a production company that’s fast overtaking the filmmaking industry.

If it was bad in Seattle, it would be a million times harder here––when we were a literal two-hour drive to Hollywood––if anyone found out.

I rub circles on my temples, trying to wish away this migraine that was forming. I hate attention. It makes me anxious and hyper aware of all the insecurities running through my head.

A shadow looms over me and I inwardly sigh as his now familiar scent floats around me, making me lightheaded and slightly addicted.

His mere presence makes me forget about the anxious thoughts flooding my head, making me focus on him and him alone.

“Hey.”

I give him a quick glance and nod. Then, I turn my attention to opening my textbook and silently praying, wishing, and hoping Ms. Smith would start this class already.

“Ava?”

I hum, acknowledging his presence. “Yeah?”

I can’t help but tense when he squats next to my desk. Tentatively, he reaches over to tuck my hair behind my ear and brush the rest over my shoulder. I feel the heat of everyone staring at us, most of them not even bothering to hide their curiosity as they watch us with bated breath.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs so only I can hear.

I meet his eyes before they fly around the room in panic when I notice some people actually leaning over to get a better view. I duck my head once more and peek at him through my hair.

He stills, shutting his eyes for a cool second before nodding his head in understanding.

I thought he wasn’t self aware enough to understand his popularity but judging by the realization and guilt flashing in his eyes, he gets it.

I look away, sighing out loud when finally Ms. Smith walks in and the room falls silent.

I hear him mimic my sigh before he mumbles a one-word apology so quietly, I almost miss it. I peer over my shoulder, watching him trudge his way to his desk in the back.

His eyes meet mine as he slips into his seat. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he silently stews, and it wages a war inside of me. I want to get up and stick my finger in the middle of his forehead to smooth it away. I want to bring back the easy smile that brightened his entire face and whatever room he happened to be in, making the cutest dimple on his right cheek pop out. But I also want to run far away from him and the unwanted attention his sudden interest in me has brought.

Ms. Smith greeting the class pulls me back into my seat but I feel his stare for the rest of class.

As soon as the bell rings, I pick up my bag and bolt. I’m busy stuffing my textbook inside my backpack, so I miss seeing the person rounding the corner just as I’m turning into it.

My stuff falls to the floor, and I throw a quick sorry to whoever it was I hit.

I don’t bother looking up to see who it is as I crouch down and cram my stuff back in my bag.

I’m trying and failing to make a quick exit here.

A gentle hand suddenly covers mine and I glance up to find Ryder grinning at me.

I can’t help but smile back. Ryder Kim is Dean’s best friend, and even though I’ve only had two interactions with him in the week I’ve been at this school, I genuinely like him. He’s got one of those personalities that sucks you in from the moment you meet him. In a good way.

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