My mood matched his. It always did. Somehow, even
though we hated each other, we were always on the same page. But when Erika
spoke, it was worse than nails on a chalk board – worse than either of us. We exchanged a look of disgust as
that goody-goody presented her speech. Finally, the bell rang, and we didn’t
have to agonizingly sit there listening to her talk anymore. I gathered my
books and as I walked out of class, I felt his breath on my neck as he said,
“How’d ya like that speech?” I giggled and elbowed him in the stomach before
walking to my locker. He had abs…I
thought, and pictured him with his shirt off. Ew. What was I doing? I closed my locker, turned to walk to my next
class, and just as I was passing his locker I met his clear blue eyes. He ran
his hand though his brown curly hair, looked me up and down, and said, “Nice
sweater. Get it from your grandma?” He smirked and walked away. Ugh! I hate him, I hate him!
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