Chapter 3

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                *Arson's POV*

        "Mrs. Javerson; she's my homeroom and history teacher," I explain to him. "No way! She's my history teacher, too. I'll give you the notes if you want," he tells me as he smiles widley and looks straight into my eyes. Man, those eyes. Can they get any better? They're like biggest, most perfect brown eyes I've ever seen before.

        "Umm, you okay? You're kinda like dazed. Yes, I know I'm beautiful; you don't have to make such a big deal out of it," he says to wake me from my daydream. "Self-concieded much?" I reply laughing. "Come on, I'm already walking you to class. I don't want to be later than I already am!" he says.

        We walk down the hall in silence. I'm already getting dirty looks from girls as we walk by. "Ew, look at her. I have this theory, that if you cut off all her hair, she’d look like a British man (quote from Mean Girls...scene on the side)." I hear one of them whisper. "Where does she get her clothes? Goodwiil?" the other one says.

        It's true though. My family doesn't have a lot of money. But, no, I don't shop at Goodwill. We've ben in poverty for about 2 years now. Life is rough but nothing you couldn't get through.

        "Here we are, Room 823. Good luck. I have to go now, bye," Shawn tells me as we suddenly stop. He hugged me then left. He-Hugged-Me. What?

      

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