I got suspended for a week. Which sucked because I'd never gotten suspended before. And neither has Neveah. But she bribed her way back to school. She can't afford one more red mark on her permanent record, because then she can't be accepted into Yale. I'm not even sure why she wants to get in in the first place. She just doesn't seem like a girl who would take things seriously. Nobody I know does anyways. Exept that Trash Can girl. For some reason, I can't get her off my mind. She seems really nice. She's pretty,but she's surely not my type of girl, but there's just something about the careful way she spoke that sends shivers up my spine. She has short brown hair, a little below her shoulders. She had those 'emo' bangs covering her left eye, and thick, arched eyebrows. She has a ski-slope nose and a heart shaped mouth. Her skin is really, really, really pale. I've never noticed her before, but now that I think about it I think I've come across her Instagram once or twice. 440 followers, not too popular, but not too shabby. eveen with Mom yelling at me in the car, I smile to myself and wonder what she thinks of me.
YOU ARE READING
Remembering Again
Teen FictionIn 2009, I set her free. She was long gone before that. Her reason of going may seem irrelevant, but to me, it's crucial. Because it's all my fault.
