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(SHE'S PLAYING MY GAME)

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(SHE'S PLAYING MY GAME)

Somehow whenever the bell rings Aurora gets into the class at the same time. She's never late and never absent.

She's at the top of every class and I'm certain doesn't need anything else to add to her résumé; she's unquestionably the valedictorian of our year.

Because she's never late or early, the only seat remaining in the lab is generally the one next to mine, because everyone else believes I bite. I do. As much as she hates it, that's why we're partners in AP Chemistry so she no longer has a choice.

She places her bag on the floor next to the stool, "Where's sir?" She asks.

I continue flicking the pen around my thumb and index finger, "Late,"

I wasn't disturbed by his absence because he's usually on my case for not paying attention, but how am I meant to see anything else when you have such a huge and bright bald spot?

About fifty phones buzz at the same time, including mine, causing me to lose the pen from my grip. When I look around, I notice that everyone is gazing at their phones, with a few gasps.

The whispers erupt quickly, and when I look at Aurora, she can't even disguise her grin as she looks ahead of her. I take a deep breath before removing my phone from my pocket.

I glance at it to see a notification from the school app. I mentally sigh as I click it, from Anonymous.

Fun fact of the day.

Christian Westbrook puts peanut butter on his
belly button and has his dog lick it off. I'm sure it's a fetish of his ladies. Take notes.

"Mr Westbrook, your phone up here now," Mr Lois says.

I raise my head to look at him and I narrow my eyes as my brows knit together, "You just got to class, I had all right being on my phone,"

"Mr Westbrook, not today, phone now or leave," he says.

I take a long breath before exhaling; everyone's eyes are on me. I'm not sure for which reason the bellybutton rumour or because of Mr Lois.

I get up from my seat slowly and walk towards the front of the class, "I guess I'll see myself out," I tell him.

I walk out the door, ignoring his pleas to return. I go to the bathroom since I can't be spotted strolling the halls during class time.

I enter one of the vacant stalls and close the toilet lid before taking a seat. I check my phone again and read it.

That's so out of context but no one can blame me for it; I was eleven at the time. It was a challenge, otherwise, I'd have to kiss Liam. It's not as horrible as it sounds, and it tickled a little, but I can't stop the smile from creeping over my lips.

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