Spitting at Olenna

Quinn stood frozen, her eyes glued to the identical Porsche Turbo Cabriolet parked neatly beside hers. Same model. Same color. Same everything.

The realization clawed at her insides, her stomach twisting painfully. This wasn't some sick joke or a misunderstanding nor was it the maids running their mouths off spitting nonsense. It was true. Olenna had actually gone out and bought Amy the same car, while Quinn had worked her ass off for hers.

She had poured her sweat into preparing for her midterm tests. She would wake up at midnight after Amy had walked away and buried her face into countless books. She wouldn't sleep till 4 in the morning, every day.

Her endless nights of studying, drilling formulas into her mind, revising notes until her vision blurred, all seemed to have gone to waste.