I lower the phone, staring at the dark screen before scoffing under my breath. The nerve of that old man. And Margaret? She’d better watch herself because I know she’s the demon pulling his strings.
Sliding the phone back into my pocket, I start toward the lecture hall. My head is still buzzing with anger, but I’m trying to shove it down because the last thing I need is to drag my father’s mess into class.
Just as I’m about to push open the door, a familiar voice grates on my nerves.
“Well, if it isn’t golden boy.”
I pause. Of course, it has to be Bryan because clearly, the universe isn’t done screwing with me today.
He steps into my path, smirking and my irritation spikes, my grip tightening around the strap of my backpack. First my father calls about a million-dollar transfer for hi
