I Chose The GPA Over The Genius
Language: en
I’ve known one thing since I was old enough to know anything at all: I was the Heroine, and Rhys Maxwell, my brilliant, perpetually-scowling boy-next-door, was the Hero. The captions floating in my periphery—the ones only I could see, a constant, shimmering overlay I called The Script—always told the same story: ‘The clueless ingénue and the genius scholar.’ ‘They are literally endgame. Total OTP material.’ Egged on by a thousand digital whispers of ‘Ship them!’ and ‘Such a vibe!’ I’d been Rhys’s shadow, his devoted little barnacle, for years. Until today, when I found a box of…