When she finally smiles, it’s in obvious relief. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. Look, Roan’s a nice guy but not boyfriend material at all. The last thing I want to see is you get hurt again.”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to get hurt. Roan and I are just partners for this class. We’re going to be spending time together on our project. It’s nothing more than that.” Not wanting to discuss Roan or those pictures any longer, I shoo her out of my room. “Now go. I’m tired. I still have forty-five minutes before I have to get up.”
Taking her computer with her, Lexie closes the door softly as she leaves. Only when she’s gone do I release the pent up breath I’ve been holding as I flop back against my pillows.
I can’t believe people actually stalk Roan like that. How freaking creepy is that? And then to post pictures online for everyone to see? Not to mention, comment upon. Like his life is up for discussion by people who don’t even know him. Like they can weigh in on everything he does as if their thoughts on the subject actually matter.
Yeah… that’s just plain bizarre.
Settling back against my pillows, I try closing my eyes.
At least they don’t know who I am. I’m still anonymous in all this. Roan is used to this kind of weird attention. It doesn’t seem to faze him at all. But I want no part of it.
I’m just on the brink of falling asleep when the first text message rolls in.
Chapter Thirteen
Ladies, ladies, please… we can’t lynch this girl simply because she’s been seen a few times with the love of our lives. Even though I kind of want to… KingOfCampus.com
With humongous sunglasses covering my face, I keep my head angled down as I hurry to class. My long golden brown hair cascades down my back and over my shoulders. Anything to make me look different from the photos that have been splashed across that damn website.
All morning long I’ve been fielding text messages from friends who recognized me in the pictures posted online. I honestly thought this whole thing would be a non-issue. I mean, so what if I was photographed with Roan? Who the hell really cares? He must get photographed with girls all the time. Right?
Wrong.
Sure. At parties. Around campus. Or in groups with several grinning girls (and their monstrous boobs) in the shot. There are tons of those kinds of pics all over the place. But there aren’t any of him leaving a dance studio, in a smoothie shop, or at the library. All with the same girl.
For those who stalk Roan King’s every move, this is a huge freaking deal.
And the answer to the question of who actually gives a rat’s ass is- practically the entire campus. Well, the female portion of it. Apparently, because Roan is Barnett’s very own crowned prince, that makes him public domain. Anyone photographed with him also, by association, becomes public property to be commented upon and discussed. Or ripped apart. Much to my chagrin, Lexie read through all the comments. I guess quite a few of the postings were somewhat hostile in nature.
Like I-might-actually-have-to-take-out-a-restraining-order hostile.
So, here I am, trying to make my way to class undetected. So far, so good. Hopefully I don’t have to worry about Roanlover565 who said she would (and I quote) knife that bitch if she finds out who I am.
I’m unfortunately serious.
“Ivy!”
Hurrying my step, I ignore the person calling my name. I just want to get my classes over with and hole up in the studio for a couple of hours and pretend my life is as simple and uncomplicated as it was twenty-four short hours ago.
“Ivy!”
Finally recognizing the voice, I stop and turn as Finn quickly jogs towards me with long legged strides that eat up the distance between us. It takes approximately fifteen seconds before we’re once again on the move. Because of his ridiculous reaction to seeing me with Roan Saturday night, I’m hoping he hasn’t seen-
“What the hell is going on between you and King?” Apparently this is going to be a repeat of our conversation from Saturday night. Perfect. Just what I need. His brows lower over his eyes. “You said you barely knew that piece of shit.”
I almost wince at his harsh words.
Keeping my head down, I mutter, “Finn, I already told you, there’s nothing going on between us.”
Or maybe there is but it certainly isn’t going any further than it already has. I mean… look at what’s going on now! I can’t even leave my apartment without worrying about being knifed by some overzealous, internet stalking fangirl.
Yeah, I don’t need this kind of drama. And I certainly don’t need Finn grilling me about the pseudo-relationship I have with Roan.