Page 31 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
The kind of food I should eat.
But I can’t bring myself to touch it.
Instead, I tear open the chip packet and eat them one by one. The salt and artificial flavor coat my tongue. They taste like nothing and everything at the same time. Like settling for less and not deserving better.
My parents would have made me a proper lunch with love and care.
But they’re gone, and eating processed food is all I can handle.
Halfway through my salty, garbage food, I pick up a fork and stab at my untouched salad. I push lettuce around with my fork, breaking it into smaller pieces. Maybe someone will buy I ate some of it?
I’m so focused on my pathetic lunch performance that I don’t notice someone approaching until a voice says, “Mind if I sit?”
I look up and find a girl with short, strawberry-blonde hair and a sweet smile. Her uniform looks like it came from a different planet than mine. Every line is perfectly pressed, her tailored blazer fits like a glove, and her skirt falls at exactly the right length.
“I’m Madison,” she says, not waiting for permission before sliding into the seat across from me. “Madison Pierce. You must be the new girl everyone’s talking about.”
“Alice,” I say, quickly pushing the chip packet aside and the salad closer. “Alice Winter.”
“How’s your first day going? Ashworth can be a bit overwhelming.”
There’s something in her tone that suggests she actually means it. Her smile reaches her eyes, and she’s not looking at me like I’m some exotic creature that wandered in from the wilderness.
“It’s... different,” I admit.
Madison laughs. “That’s one way to put it. I remember my first day here. I was so intimidated I hid in the bathroom during lunch.”
“You? But you seem so...” I gesture vaguely at her appearance.
“Put together? Trust me, it’s all an act. Fake it till you make it, right?” She glances at my barely touched salad. “Not hungry?”
Heat flushes my cheeks. “Just... adjusting to cafeteria food.”
“Fair enough. The salads here are actually pretty good, but I get it. Everything feels weird when you’re the new girl.” Madison leans forward conspiratorially. “Want some advice? The key to surviving Ashworth Academy is finding your people. The ones who won’t judge you for eating chips for lunch.”
For a moment, I feel a flicker of hope. Maybe I won’t be completely alone here after all.
Madison shows me her phone. “And it helps if you can make something of yourself.” She scrolls through her social media page, and my eyes enlarge at the thousands of views labeled under each video. “Once I got my influencer rep and a few brand deals, it was like I became one of the masses.”
I scan the surrounding tables. “Does this school have a lot of influencers?”
“You’re either here because you come from a family of somebodies, or you make yourself somebody.”
I exhale hard, queasy at the thought of it.
“So,” Madison continues, her voice casual but her eyes sharp with curiosity. “I heard you’re living with Ryder Hamilton. That must be exciting.”
And there it is. The real reason she sat down.
“We just shared a ride,” I say carefully.
“Oh, come on,” Madison says with a laugh that now sounds forced. “You can tell me. How do you know him?”
“I don’t.”
She deadpans me. “You rode in the same car.”
“So?”
