AVA’s POV
The campus buzzed with life as I made my way to class, but I felt like a ghost, invisible and untouchable. The air was thick with all kinds of scents—freshly cut grass, blooming flowers, and the faint hint of sunscreen.
I should have felt alive, felt like the baddest b***h around, but instead, my mind was a battlefield, haunted by all the s**t that I had gone through over the past few weeks.
Ella. That b***h. Her name was a bitter taste in my mouth, a constant reminder of my failure. Every time I thought about Ella, I wanted to spit in the floor. I wanted to punch something. No, every time I thought about Ella’s name, I wanted to punch her.
I had orchestrated everything perfectly—or so I thought. I couldn’t believe how spectacularly my plan had failed. I wanted to f**k Ella
