Chapter 1: No Bad Boys Here

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When people hear the word nerd, they always think of weirdos with glasses and pimples who read plenty of books by the corner.

Often, these people are riddled with social anxiety and years spent living in isolation. But strangely enough, at the end of the fairy tale, people almost always expect them to be the prom king or prom queen. If not, they shall have a happily ever after with either. But this tale of mine will be different.

My epilogue will not end by marrying this class's bad boy and bearing their child.

Jokes on you, there isn't even one in my class.

Or in the next class.

Because this is an all-girls academy.

Contrary to what I'm supposed to be doing now to further hook you into reading what should be interesting parts of my life, I'm gonna outright tell you right now that I lead a boring life.

How boring? Well, that depends on what constitutes as boring in your vocabulary. In my opinion, my life is pretty average.

In the morning, I eat breakfast like a normal person. So normal that I pour the milk before the cereal just to piss off the people with a cereal-first policy. Our ozone layer is really out there getting ripped the more time passes by and you all fighting about milk and cereal? Sounds like you have your priorities straight. It's the same thing either way.

After that, I get dressed and make my way to school. Or in my case, academy. Every step I take toward my destination only makes my anxiety worse. In there, people will be present. But that was not the worst part of all. I was going to be forced to talk to them. If not, my grades will ultimately fail.

I cannot let that happen.

However, some people will do nothing to prevent that from occurring. In fact, they would welcome it so openly that they would disregard how others may feel towards their actions. Nor do they even plan to take responsibility for the consequences of their selfish decisions.

One of those is lazy group mates that force you into taking on the majority of the work. Might as well have done the project solo, but the teacher has different ideas. And even with the 3% of the part they've done, all of it is just half-hearted.

I am no criminal. But there are days I'm tempted to be one.

Today, however, I have no need of those temptations for there would be no justifiable basis in place.

While I believe true art cannot be made without romanticism, adhering to it while facing life ahead isn't my policy. Therefore, do not expect me to describe how dazzling the sun is as I walk down the hallway that would eventually lead to our classroom. Nor are such statements like, "The clamorous wave composed of their laughs, noises, and chitchats swept me off the moment I opened the door," existent within me.

People call me a nerd and as someone who religiously visits the dictionary, I hate to admit that I do in fact fit the standards of the indicated stereotype. In hopes of redeeming myself, I have devoted my free time to researching numerous online articles with the sole purpose of refuting what they believe to be definite. To my great horror and sadness, my efforts did not yield results and I relished myself in re-watching One Piece for months.

It's at those times that my anguish is drowned by the grief of losing my beloved Ace. Sadly, I must accept defeat regarding this matter. Further resistance will only prove to be futile and foolish. Even I know better than that. But, I will stand my ground towards the fact that I think romance is a trivial thing— well, except that it eventually aids us in reproduction and prevention of extinction.

These allos would gladly trade off their intelligence for someone who doesn't even know their name.

Honestly, such strange creatures they are.

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