"Don't Let Go Of My Hand"("GROWNISH")

Chapter 6

A few days pass, and the buzz around campus is undeniable. Ever since the makeover, it's like I'm walking around with a neon sign over my head that says "Look at me!" Everywhere I go, guys are suddenly noticing me in ways they never did before.

In class, one of the guys sitting a row behind me leans forward and whispers, "Yo, Ashanti, you got a pen I can borrow?"

I turn around, confused because I've literally sat in front of him all semester, and he's never said a word to me before. "Uh... sure," I say, handing him a pen.

He grins, his confidence oozing. "Thanks, beautiful. Hey, what's your number? Maybe I can pay you back with coffee or something."

I blink at him, caught off guard. "It's just a pen," I mumble, turning back around before my cheeks get too red.

At lunch, it's the same story. I'm just trying to eat my salad in peace when another guy from my English class casually slides into the seat across from me.

"Hey, Ashanti, what's up? You look different lately. In a good way," he says, flashing a practiced smile.

I stare at him, fork halfway to my mouth. "Uh... thanks?"

"So, you busy later? We should link up and study or something."

I raise an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or cringe. "I'm... pretty good on studying, actually. But thanks."

He looks slightly wounded but shrugs it off. "Cool, cool. But, you know, if you ever change your mind..." He slips me a piece of paper with his number on it and winks before walking away.

Even when I'm just walking across campus, I can feel their eyes following me. I pass a group of guys lounging on the steps outside the library, and one of them calls out, "Hey, Ashanti! You free Friday night? My boys and I are throwing a little party."

I shake my head, my pace quickening. "No, thanks," I mutter, not even looking back.

It's overwhelming, to say the least. A part of me feels flattered—like, wow, people are finally seeing me—but another part feels... weird. I can't help but wonder if this is all because of how I look now. Where were these guys when I was wearing sweatpants and my hair in a messy bun?

Later that day, I find Zoey and Anna in the lounge, laughing about something on Zoey's phone. The moment they see me, they wave me over.

Zoey: "Girl, you're like a celebrity now! Everyone's talking about you."

I groan, flopping onto the couch beside them. "Don't remind me. It's exhausting. I can't even eat lunch without someone trying to slide into my DMs in real life."

Anna laughs. "Welcome to the club. You're hot now, Ashanti. Guys can't help themselves."

Zoey smirks. "Exactly. This is what we were talking about! You've always been beautiful, but now you're owning it, and they're finally waking up."

I frown, picking at the hem of my sweater. "But that's the thing. I don't know if I like it. It's like... they didn't care about me before, so why now? What happens if I go back to just being me—no makeup, no fancy clothes?"

Zoey's smile softens. "Ashanti, this isn't about them. This is about you. The makeover wasn't to change who you are—it was to help you see what we already saw. Don't let a bunch of thirsty dudes make you doubt yourself."

Anna nods. "Yeah, and if they can't handle you at your chill vibes, then they don't deserve you at your glow-up."

I can't help but laugh at that. "Y'all are ridiculous."

Zoey grins, throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Ridiculous, but right. Now, come on. Let's celebrate your newfound fame with a smoothie run. My treat."