Jessica’s POV
As I waited at the bus stop after school, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
“Hey Jess” Harry greeted me.
“Hi” I smiled.
“Do you want a ride home?” He asked.
I thought about it for a moment.
“Sure” I smiled.
My eyes widened in amazement as we approached Harry’s matte black corvette.
“Wow” I whispered as we sat in the car.
“Pretty nice huh?” he smirked.
I nodded, still looking around inside the car.
“Address?” he asked.
“611 Hills Avenue”
“Really? I only live a few doors down” he grinned.
As he started the car, I looked out the window and noticed everyone was staring at Harry and I.
Some were whispering to each other, some were pointing and some were simply staring with their jaw almost touching the ground.
I looked down and began to fiddle with my fingers. I can’t stand it when people stare at me.
“Jess, are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
“Can we go, everyone’s staring” I mumbled.
“Of course, I’m sorry” he smiled sympathetically as he began to drive out away from the school parking lot.
For the whole ride, it was silent.
“You still up for going to that party?” he asked as I got out of the car.
Shit. The party. I completely forgot.
“Yeah, of course” I smiled.
Opening the front door, I began to walk upstairs to my room.
“Young lady, come back down here now” I heard my mum say.
“Yes?” I asked.
“How was school?”
“It was good; I’m going to a party tonight”
“Do you have a ride, sweetie?”
“Yeah”
“Okay, have fun” she smiled.
I walked upstairs and into my closet that I packed yesterday.
Damn, I wish I had my friends from back home to help me pick out an outfit.
I grabbed my phone, searched through my contacts and called my best friend, Christine Marino.
“Jess!” I heard her high pitched voice squeal through the phone.
“Hey Chris, I need your help”
“What’s wrong?” concern filled her voice.
“I have a party tonight but I have no idea what to wear” I sighed.
“Skype me” she said before she hung up the phone.
She immediately called on my on Skype and I accepted.
“Have you unpacked your duffel bag yet?” she smirked.
“No, why?” I asked, worried.
“Go open it”
