8. JUST CALL ME BARF!

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I don't have the slightest idea why Thug Thurston HATES me so much.

I NEVER did anything to him.

On purpose, anyway.

But I guess there WAS that little accident in PE class.

(And maybe it was a little bit of trying to get (Y/n) to like me and failing miserably EVERY TIME, but we don't talk about it.)

The one that earned me the nickname BARF.

Hey, don't laugh. It was actually pretty scary at the time (And trying to talk to (Y/n)).

We were in PE doing the rope climb. You have to climb up a thirty-foot rope to the gym ceiling, ring a bell, and then slide down. All in only sixty seconds.

Coach chose (Y/n) first for whatever reason. Set up his stopwatch, and said "GO!". It was a race against the clock, but because (Y/n) is so athletic, and charming, and beautiful...

That she climbed the rope, rang the bell, AND slid down with 5 seconds to spare! She's so talented!

Then coach called me next and I was feeling really nervous because I HATE heights. . . .

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I couldn't believe I had only climbed up that stupid rope a measly twenty-nine inches

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I couldn't believe I had only climbed up that stupid rope a measly twenty-nine inches. It felt like a mile.

I guess I didn't need that stepladder after all.

But afterward I felt so dizzy and queasy, I actually THREW UP my oatmeal! Right there in the gym. . . .

ON THUG THURSTON'S FOOT!!!

The whole thing was surreal.

That guy was SO mad, I could almost see steam coming out of his ears like a cartoon character or something.

Our teacher shook his head in disgust and went to get a janitor to clean up the mess I'd made.

That's when Thug got right up in my face, so close I could smell the STANK from the baloney, mustard, and egg sandwich he had eaten for breakfast.

Max Crumbly x Female Reader "Locker Hero"Where stories live. Discover now