"Loser"
I hear a male voice, slightly deeper than that I am familiar with, and I place a name on it.
Jayce.
I don't bother to look up at him, instead opting to lock my gaze on my locker. My arms throb in protest as I rush to all but throw the book inside, causing a muted noise to echo inside of the metal box.
Well shit, guess my shelves collapsed.
I stare at the locker for a bit, contemplating whether to clean it out or leave. In those few seconds, I made a decision.
Fuck it.
I adjust my backpack on my left shoulder and brush my hands on my white jeans. I scan the crowded hallway and find a space in the crowd to wiggle into. In less than a minute, I'm sitting in my seat in the empty English classroom, reading the assignment due today.
What? I don't do my homework. I have enough time to finish it right now, so why should I?
Eventually, students file into the room. Sounds of quiet conversation blanket the peaceful silence I had begun to appreciate, making me pout a bit.
5 hours left.
Mrs. White walks up to the board and starts explaining some grammar exercise as my brain wanders down the hall, past the restrooms, and into the math classroom.
If you're dumb as shit, you probably didn't get it. I have telepathy.
pFFT NOPE THATS WHAT U THOUGHT HOE.
My mind pictures Jayce, sitting there in his seat in the corner of the room, staring at his book in mock concentration, his mind elsewhere.
On what, you might ask?
His mind wandered to her.
To Zoey.
Okay let me get this straight, I don't have a crush on him. I just..
ship them so hard.
And that my hoes, is where the story begins.
The story of utter confusion and chaos.
YOU ARE READING
A E S T H E T I C
Roman d'amour"Wtf is that?" "Its an aesthetic hoe, heard about it?" "Can you even spell that shit?"
