GANG GANG GANG 🤟🏾
(BESTIE A 💜, BESTIE N 💜,BESTIE R 💜)
12:01PMRaelynn:
wya?Naomi:
going to lunchAubree:
leaving classLila:
in the libraryRaelynn:
well,yall, meet up
lunchroom
N O WNaomi:
you do know that you don't have to space out the now for empathise right?Raelynn:
"you do know you don't have to space out the now for empathise" stfu and come up and hurry your flat ass upNaomi:
HEY!Aubree:
she ain't wrongLila:
😂😂😂Raelynn:
what you laughin at Lila?
you need to come here too
so shove your books on your shelves
and get your ass over hereNaomi:
we associate things with asses lately
Lynn, you got something to tell us ?Raelynn:
NO HOMONaomi:
NO HOMOLila:
NO HOMOAubree:
NO HOMO
ah, fuck
i'm lastRaelynn:
haha, you lezbo
lol, come on, come down hereI close the English textbook, shoving my phone into the front pocket of my backpack. My eyes glance around the library, finding the atmosphere to be eerily quiet. With the exception of some bickering from the back of the library staff room, it's safe to say no one had been here.
I stood up from the seat, thankful for the fact that carpet stained the flooring of the room as I pulled myself off of the table and took the textbook into my hands. My mind sent to a mission of returning the object back into it's original position. On the shelves.
I would ask the library ladies, but they had already been generous enough to hold the book for me without a fee, I didn't want to be too much of a hassle to ask for them to shelve them back for me as well. I might as well use the time to find a spot for it's residence; maybe it could even benefit me later on in the year.
As I walk down the isles and shelves of books, I stopped upon the section of literatures and school subject. Since our library had a unique way of organisation, it didn't take me long before I found the 12th grade section of literature for English. British Lit being the centre of attention.
As I shelf the book back into it's spot—finding the barcode to be much help—I heard mumbling from behind the shelf.
"...f(x) has to equal to 17," a quiet mumble runs from a feminine voice. I stepped out from behind the shelf, finding a isolated table used by a single girl—a girl about my age, in my grade. Her eyes trained on the three textbooks spread across the tables as she was scribbling down some information on a piece of paper. "The cosine should be a less value than one, right?"
YOU ARE READING
Miss Nail Techie | ✓
Teen FictionLila Pham works at one of the busiest nail salons in the city; with business booming out of proportion and her fear of her friends and fellow classmates discovering her location of work is at bay, all seems to be going well. Except for the fact tha...