Professor Dearest
Another brunette follows her closely behind, looking as mean as the first girl.
I ignore her, pulling a tissue from the rack, and dusting my hands clean. I start heading to the door when the dark-haired lady speaks.
“You are Scarpelli’s date for the night,” she says.
I stand, freeing in place. I don’t know if I should respond, walk away, or just be myself. Whatever the case might be, two girls against me is a risky deal.
“And you are?” I question, ignoring her question.
“Gianna Salvatore, bitch. Where did Matteo Scarpelli find you from to pay you to be his date?” the brunette asks, closing in on me.