he hated math, with half his heart. half his heart, because he saved the other half for hating me.
we met at my house, as i would try my best to teach him, and try even harder to ignore the death glares.
and one day, as he picked his notebook up and began to march out of my room, my mom stopped him.
she wanted to go ice skating, with both our families.
i should have said no. i should have told my mother that i didn't want to be caught dead ice skating with him.
but i didn't.
YOU ARE READING
countdown
Poetrythe day i had become stuck with him was the day the countdown had begun.
