1. It's me!

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𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓮!─── ・ 。゚☆: *

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𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓮!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───



Slap

I felt a stinging pain in my cheek. I didn't bother to soothe it. Mr. Choi glared at me. His face looked like a dying chicken. It always looked like that. I wondered how his wife kisses him. He had almost non existent lips. Just a slit under his nose that imitates a mouth. I held back my laughter. My jaw clenched to save myself from the trouble.

Tears poured from my eyes. Always works. I live in a stereotypical society where girls are portrayed as weaklings. The tears weren't real. I walked out of the room and popped a lollipop after taking a turn to the stair case.

Bitch

I could have gone rebel and fought against him but the real trouble here is my mother. She feeds off on my sorrow and tears. She should see me cry atleast once a day. If this goes to my mother I could say good bye to my weekend outings. That's the only thing good in my miserable life. Same goes to Mr. Choi. He leeches off girls tears. Making girls cry is his favorite thing in the whole day.

If you are wondering why I got slapped by him, I'll tell you. Because I wore fish net stockings to school. Yes I got slapped for that and it isn't against my school dress code. It's just against Mr. Choi dress code. And my mother's dress code too. That's why I didn't wear it from home.

One thing I hate about the bus stop is there is always my raccoon faced neighbor lady waiting to get on the same bus as me. I missed a cute boy because of her. Yes she leeches off by telling things on me to my mother. I live a wonderful life and I hate each minute of it. Insert heart eyes.

I checked on either side of the bus stop as far as my eyes could reach and she isn't here today. I threw my fist in the air "yay!"

It's a win. Well pure luck but it's a win.

I pulled out the novel I was currently reading and leaned on to the pole. I was on the second sentence of the current page when I acknowledged that someone was talking to me.

"That's a nice book. The ending is ambiguous though," he said slurping the grape juice through the straw between his thick lips. My eyes were fixed on his lips. He popped the straw out and smiled. My gaze quickly shifted to his eyes. Cheeks burning.

Act cool, act cool

"If you have any intention of hitting on me, you will be jail because I'm not even eighteen," I gave him a fake smile and closed my novel.

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