Being treated like a princess her whole life, Amara Luciano grew up to be a sweet and generous girl. She would never do anything that would thwart that image.
But her limits were tested when her best friend, the handsome and endearing Primo Alonzo L...
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The long hallways were bare of students as St. Clement's dedicated a whole day for a career consultation. It was exclusive for senior students and their parents.
Amara pretended to listen though her mind was far away as she stared at the window. Her mother elbowed her as the counselor eyed her. "What?"
"Are you pursuing a music career then?"
"I guess so. It depends when I win the state music competition," she answered. Amara decided that she'd go into music if she won. If she lost, well... that wouldn't be a possibility.
They exited the office with her mother sighing loudly. "Princess, I never thought you'd be set on a musical path? Don't you wanna do something else?"
"Actually, mom, I just wanna be rich without working." Amara tied her hair in a bun, reducing the heat of the day.
Her mother laughed. "Isn't that the dream?"
"Let's go, mom. I wanna sleep!"
"What do you mean? I'm gonna meet your classmates' parents!"
Amara arched an intrigued brow. "Seriously? You don't even know anyone there."
Some of the parents and students who waited for their consultation were hanging out in the cafeteria. Amara figured it was another way to make contacts for their college applications. But she's one of those who didn't give a shit.
"I know Vida. Come on." Her mother dragged her by the arm. She marched through the hallways and towards the intricate Roman carvings of the cafeteria's door.
Amara dragged her feet as her mother greeted people she barely knew. She scanned the place for Primo and drew a sharp intake as she saw him with Natasha and their mothers.
No way.
She stomped towards the group and engulfed Primo's mother in a hug. "Mamma Vida! I miss you!"
The older woman chuckled, patting her back. "Princess, it's nice to see you!"
She pulled back with a wide smile, ignoring Primo's displeased stare from where he sat.
"And who do we have here?"
Amara looked at the speaker. A petite woman with pale blonde curls framing her face. Her lips were tight, observing her form.
"Oh, mom! She's my friend," Natasha muttered.
"I'm not," Amara stated, relishing the shock faces around her. She chuckled. "I meant, we're basically sisters, right?"
