Ella's POV:
Okay, Ella, you've got this. Just don't look at Jason. He's a pumpkin—visualize him like a pumpkin. A pumpkin with stupid hands and legs. Yes, that's it. He's just a damn pumpkin. Oh boy, I hope this works.
I'm walking through the halls, doing my best to avoid any eye contact when a random guy steps in front of me. "Hey, hoodie girl, how much for one second?" His voice is dripping with sleaze, his innuendo impossible to miss.
What? Did I just hear that right?
Before I can even process it, another voice cuts in, this time from a guy I recognize vaguely from the soccer team. "Come on, if you can fuck those old guys in the administration department, surely you can give us some?"
Wait. What the actual hell is happening?
"Go fuck yourselves," I snap, pulling my hoodie lower over my face and trying to speed up my steps toward my first class. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can feel the burn of humiliation creeping up my neck.
