"Have you ever wondered what it's like to be truly insane?"
This was what I heard as I walked into the much-beloved that math class I dearly hate.
Our darling Teacher's Assistant, or his face, at least, was about five inches from mine.
"No, I suppose I haven't given it much thought."
"Really? I thought you would, being all philosophical and argumentative and all that shit."
"What the hell do you mean by that?!"
He took a step back.
"Are you on your monthly?"
The classroom full of a few people looked up.
I glared at him,
"So... yes, then?"
"You ask me if I have my period, but I'll bet you couldn't tell me my name."
He looked at me, almost through me. "Roseya Julianne Adorré, born August 21st, 2001, at J. Jameson hospital, at twelve-twenty-two P.M., central time."
"Stalker!" I heard from the rear of the room.
We both turned our heads and glared.
The boy put his hands up in a placating manner.
We turned our heads once more and glared at each other.
Then the bell rang.
He didn't sit on the floor this time, no, he came and sat in (on? I honestly have no idea.) a desk.
The one next to mine.
And damn, I felt little creepy crawlies oozing around my stomach in their creepily creepy delight.
I hate butterflies.
They're gross.
Halfway through the period, a note was slid onto my desk with the utmost sly-ity.
The contents of the note:
Have I gone mad?
My reply:
I'm afraid so.
You're entirely bonkers.
But can I tell you a secret?
His answer:
Proceed.
My response:
All the best people are.
------
I apologise profusely for the tiny chapter, but I had to end it there.
YOU ARE READING
This is where it all ends.
RomanceI was still a virgin when he left. Hell, we didn't even kiss. But, somehow, inexplicably, I fell in love with him. I'm not going to say something cliché, like "But he didn't catch me". No, darling, the real trouble started when he fell too.
