LOGAN (Book One)

TWENTY

I was a target from Paris pranks yesterday. It wasn't dirty water this time but nasty words on my desk with permanent black ink that said "SLUT" or "BITCH" or someone spelled "whore" wrong. It was written as "HORE." I don't even think about who wrote their elementary school spelling on my desk. This wasn't the first time Paris and her friends had destroyed my desk. It's probably their fiftieth time ruining the desk, and I would have to go to the school storage room to get myself a new one.

Then today, my gym locker was unlocked like someone used a cutting tool to break the lock and stole my P.E. uniform. It didn't take long when I spotted my clothes in the trash; I came prepared when I went to the cashier's office and got a new lock and a new P.E. uniform that had already been paid for when something like this happened.

I sighed.

I do not have my week.

Paris has been secretly harassing me, and I will ignore her pitiful and stupid games like I always do. All her pranks were overrated, and I gave up.

When are her childish games going to be over?

Paris is a parasite, always buzzing around looking for her target, and when I'm the most vulnerable, she will piss me off for her amusement. She never gets tired. She feeds off me like an aphid on new spring growth, leaving me energized and buzzing as I feel drained and tense. It always happens whenever she is around me. Paris is a bully, only to me. I was tired of her games, and I'm tired of them now. I'm not sure when she is going to quit.

Maybe when I die a virgin.

After school, I went to the nearest library and decided to stay there for the whole day before going home. At school, it was awkward because every time I would step into the hallways, he was standing there like a God, and with that bitch, Paris permitted her to flirt with him, and he didn't seem to be bothered.

As for me, I saw red, but I never took a step toward them because the rumors about that day would make people think of me differently than I already am.

After school, I went straight to the public library. I had my earphones on while I stared at the blank page for that one tricky question Jordan had the class to answer, and so far, I have not written anything. I took this opportunity to think of something but with the trials with Logan coming into my life, I've been distracted.

So much, I'm becoming brain-damaged just staring at the question. I think I've been diagnosed with dyslexia.

I groaned in frustration that I hit my head on the table as if the world was against me.

"Excuse me?"

I looked up with a weary look and saw a senior man with an accent. British?

"May I sit here?"

He didn't have to say it as a question. He could sit since I'm the only one at a large table with my papers and books.

"There is no space for me to sit," he chuckled softly.

When I looked around, there were open seats. Why does he want to sit here? I didn't want to be rude and tell him to bug off, so I allowed him. "Go ahead and sit."

The old man grabbed the sit in front of me and pulled out a Crossword booklet and a pen. While he was at it, he put on his reading glasses.

His eyes are on the booklet as I lift mine. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put a finger at it until it hit me once I remembered at the bus stop. The same man also asked to sit beside me, making me uncomfortable. And this was the same man before.

Shit!

Now that he's here, I couldn't be any ruder than before and go up and leave. So, without a sudden movement, I began to pack up my things one by one slowly.