The Janitor Girl Sang One Song, and the Billionaire’s Son Stopped Laughing

about extra credit, the answer is still no.”

“It’s not.”

He grunted.

I held out the form.

“I need a faculty sponsor for Founders Night.”

That made him turn.

His eyes were pale blue and tired.

“You’re the Mayhew girl,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“The girl from Cross’s class.”

I swallowed.

“Yes, sir.”

“The one Carter Whitmore made that ugly wager with.”

My ears burned.continue reading …