TWO
Dear Asshole,
Ta-da! It’s me again, Xavier. You’re probably not happy to receive another one of these but, hell, you’re getting it.
Let’s fast forward senior year because we should really skip the part of the torturous dance practices where you stepped on my feet so many times, I think they would be numb even if a truck ran over them.
Ah, senior year.
The year we got too close.
I was pissed off because I didn’t get to eat lunch that time and you were pleased to piss me off even more. What else would I expect from you Xavier? Compassion, definitely, wasn’t it. And you telling me we had to work for the rest of the year in the homecoming committee wasn’t one of the things I expected either. I mean, here I was hungry as hell and then you disrupt that then tell me I’m going to be spending my time with you and your pretty face.
That time I didn’t really care.
I could just ignore you and get my job done in peace.
But, of course, you didn’t let me do that, dickhead.
Want to punch your teeth out, Robyn.
