Sighing, I slumped my shoulders. “I know. It’s that I took a job forty minutes away from campus to avoid this type of thing. I can’t stand guys like them.”

“Like what?”

“Them.” I gestured with my hand to the group of guys. “Stuck up, snooty—”

“Rich?”

“Yes!” I answered, adamantly.

I loved Stanford. Greatly appreciated the opportunity I had to not only attend the prestigious university but to do so on a scholarship, which was amazing for a woman who grew up like I did. Stanford was dubbed the Ivy League of the West Coast, and the professors worked diligently to live up to the hype. However, with the big name came big money. Most of the students on campus came from wealth I never even realized existed. While I’d made some great relationships on campus, not everyone was particularly welcoming of those who didn’t come from their social circles or class levels. For the most part, I’d gotten used to it, and tried my utmost not to let it bother me, sometimes it did.

“Well, you’ve only got a few more months and then you’re off to Williamsport to start that big fancy job,” Pia stated, a hint of melancholy in her voice.

Looking over at her, I saw the shimmer of sadness in her hazel eyes.

“You’re going to miss me?” I lifted an eyebrow.

“Hell yeah.”

I giggled, my mood lightening. The idea of leaving Pia did make me sad. However, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit giddy at the thought of starting my new job after graduation. The previous summer, I’d gotten an opportunity to intern in the finance department of a fashion company. And while I hadn’t landed a position at that company, it had led to my interviewing with a few others, including one of the largest cosmetic companies in the world. I had interviewed over winter break, and just heard back a few weeks ago. I’d gotten the job as a financial analyst. I would be moving to Williamsport two weeks after graduation to start my new career.

“You’re gonna be great!” Pia exclaimed.

“You’ll come visit me, right?” I asked. Pia and I had grown close over the past three years of working together. She often covered for me when I took an extra long break to study, and I returned the favor, covering for her at the bar when one of her boyfriends came in and she needed to step away to argue with him. On the outside, it may not have seemed like Pia and I had anything in common aside from the place we worked at, but I often felt like I could relate to her more than most of the girls I shared classes and dorm rooms with.

“Of course. Anyway, we need to get back to work. There’re tips to be made.”

Groaning, I glanced over at the group of guys from Stanford. Their attention was on the new dances who’d come out to give them lap dances.