I have to do a project with her.
Fuck, I have to do a project with her.
I have to sit across from her and watch her bat her pretty eyelashes and adjust her beautiful red glasses and bite her lip when she’s unsure of something and lean on me when she needs help but not in the way that I want or need.
I wondered if when the teacher put us together, if he was trying to help me. I’m sure he’s seen me look at her and get red when she talks to me.
Or maybe he just put us together because our last names are close to each other.
I don’t know.
I don’t really care, honestly.
It’s going to kill me either way.
