Confused (Matthew Espinosa)
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I have to quit. I have to stop thinking about him. He doesn't like me. He likes pretty girls, probably with blonde and tan skin, which I had none of, my hair is poopy brown, my eyes can't decide wether they want to be brown or green. I'm not model material. I look weird in dresses. And yet as I opened my eyes, there he stood, looking at me the way no other guy had ever looked at me before.
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confused
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