Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 58

Yolanda swayed on her feet, her face a deathly mask.

“Yes,” Malcolm admitted. It was a fake, but a high-quality one. It hadn't cost fifty thousand, but it had still set him back a few hundred dollars.

“Dad, you’ve ruined me!” Yolanda screamed, tears streaming down her face. “How can I ever show my face in my social circle again? How can I go to school?”

And what would Jerrold think of her now?

“Yolanda, calm down,” Malcolm said, trying to soothe his hysterical daughter. “This is Juniper’s fault, isn’t it? Don’t worry, Dad won’t let her get away with this!”

Yolanda was so furious she just hung up. She then opened the school’s online forum, where the comments were even more vicious than on Twitter.

“Aaaargh!” Yolanda couldn't bear to look anymore. She hurled her phone to the ground and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

She would never, ever forgive that bitch!

...

Back at Aurora High, Juniper had barely sat down in her classroom when she was swarmed by her classmates.

“Juniper, you’re actually Master Lunar! That’s so amazing!”

“Master Lunar, can I have your autograph?”

“Master Lunar, can we get a picture?”

“I was here first, don’t push!”

For the next several minutes, Juniper sat frozen in her seat like a statue, accommodating wave after wave of classmates wanting photos and signatures. Just when she thought it was over with her own class, a new crowd gathered at the doorway.

“Master Lunar! Aaaah!”

“Juniper, please come,” Queenie pleaded, looking at her with puppy-dog eyes. She was too scared to do the interview alone.

“I have things to do in the afternoon, so I’ll pass,” Juniper said in a low voice. She had no interest in interviews.

Besides, she still hadn’t solved the issue with Shanley’s grandmother’s jewelry. An image of his face flashed through her mind.

“Alright.” Knowing she was a girl with her own mind, Salma didn’t press the issue. “By the way, I wanted to talk to you about the tutoring sessions. They start tomorrow afternoon in the empty classroom on the third floor. It’s an hour every day. Make sure you’re there.”

Although Juniper was an excellent dancer, her academic performance was abysmal. Salma hoped that with some effort, she could get into a good university. It would be the icing on the cake.

“Actually, ma’am, I was thinking—” Juniper began, about to refuse.

“No, you weren’t,” Salma cut her off, her expression suddenly serious. She had seen Juniper’s report card. She knew struggling students never wanted tutoring.

Juniper was speechless.