Chapter 33.5 - how we got together (Part 3)

Nat Side - Desert Primary school

Everyone in class is staring at the new kid like he’s some kind of alien who just parachuted in from Mars.

And I don’t blame them.

I’m sitting there in my Victorian dress—yes, again, no regrets—and even I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

He’s got wild eyes, a goofy grin, and that weird jungle-boy energy like he’s about to climb the walls or throw a spear at someone.

Luna leans close to whisper in my ear, her tone laced with dry amusement.

“That’s the kid we saw earlier, right? He looks like… I dunno, a dork.”

I cross my arms and huff.

“Yeah… a dork.”

(Present-day Natalie:) Not like I meant it! He’s just… just dumb, okay!? Dumb in the way that makes your chest feel tight and your brain short-circuit and—ugh, shut up!! 😖

But something about him… makes the air around us feel different.

Like a storm is coming.

The class murmurs dies down just in time for Wan—yep, that guy—from our complex, to start getting pissy.

He sees the attention the new kid is getting, and oh boy, his ego doesn't like that one bit.

He saunters up to me with that half-smirk he thinks is charming but really just makes him look constipated.

“You know… you’re in the wrong class, Nat. You should be in theater. Or maybe a circus.”

Luna instantly slams her hands on her desk.

“Take that back, Wan!”

But I don’t need her help.

I smile sweetly. Too sweetly.

“Oh? Want me to lend you a dress too? You’d look stunning in chiffon.”

His face twitches. 💢

“Like hell I’d wear that garbage! Tch—whatever. You’re just weird… just like that jungle-boy. What’s his name? Alex?”

My eyes narrow.

Alex…?

Why did that sound personal?

(Present-day Natalie:) Wan… if you ever lay a hand on him now—present time in Malaysia—I swear, that will be the last time you ever see daylight.

I lean in, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You two know each other?”

He snorts.

“We’re neighbors. Not friends. That kid’s a loser. Got dumped into bilingual class because he’s too dumb for the real thing.”

Okay. That’s it.

“You’ve got some nerve, talking trash about someone who hasn’t even said a word to you yet.”

Luna throws her arm over my shoulder dramatically.

“Yeah! What’s next? Gonna pick on kittens too, you big bad villain?”

Wan turns red. “Tch! Whatever! Jackson, cafeteria!”

His sidekick grunts and nods. They start walking away—until Luna stealthily kicks out her leg and "accidentally" trips Wan.

THUMP!!

“Hey—!?”

He hits the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Luna grabs his arm before he can stand and says with fake concern:

“Oh noooo~ Did the big bad tough guy get cotties from bullying a girl? So tragic.”

The entire class bursts out laughing.

Matt, one of the boys who always sits near the front and smells like crayons, suddenly points at him.

“EWWWW!!! WAN GOT COTTIES!!!!”

“EWWW!!!” the class chants in unison like a cursed ritual.

Wan screams like he’s being attacked by demons and bolts out the door with Jackson chasing after him.

“SHUT UP!!!!”

The door slams.

I cross my arms, hiding a smile. Serves you right.

Luna gives me a thumbs up, her eyes gleaming.

“That’s for calling my best friend a circus act.”

I glance back at the hallway where Alex had been earlier… the way he smiled, the way he pointed at me and called me a Victorian…

That dumb jungle dork… what kind of boy says that with sparkles in his eyes?

Lunchtime.

Sun’s blazing, cafeteria smells are drifting through the air, and here we are—the dorks. United not by popularity… but by mutual weirdness, trauma, and Luna’s infinite sass.

Me, Luna, Matt, Travis, Xavier, and Jeniffer.

Group Dorks™.

Honestly… I’ve come to terms with it.

We’re not cool.

We’re not pretty-pretty, sparkle-sparkle girls like Mylie, Karina, Lyla, and Sally, aka The Glitter Coven™, who seem to think this school is their personal runway.

And we’re definitely not Wan’s crew—the Cool (ish) Kids™. Wan, Jackson, Penny, Gale, and Veronica. Always acting like they're better than everyone just because they have hair gel and overly confident eyebrows.

Then there’s the Jock Tower—Langley, Kyle, Biggs, Terry, and Heather. Basketball, cheerleading, protein shakes, and egos the size of Texas.

Meanwhile us? Dorks. Nerds. Geeks. Socially awkward. But at least we’re genuine.

We’re walking down the outdoor hallway when we hear something—rhythmic, thumping music. A beat. Like something out of an old-school cassette tape.

Matt perks up. “Hey, that class looks fun!”

Travis squints. “Is that… music?”

Xavier suddenly lights up. “Yo, that’s a breakbeat! Wait—are they dancing!?”

We stop.

Right outside the bilingual class—the so-called misfits of the school. A few kids are giggling. Some are awkwardly stepping around.

And right in the middle of it all… is her.

Ms. Forest. Infamous. Unorthodox. Fabulous.

Wearing those thick glasses and long prairie skirts, she looks like a cowgirl-turned-schoolteacher straight out of a spaghetti western.

She claps her hands, holding up a boombox like it’s the Holy Grail.

“Alright, kiddos! Since half of y’all can barely string a sentence in English, let’s express ourselves through movement!”

Music blasts.

The kids look confused. Except for one.

Alex.

Yeah.

That Alex.

The jungle-boy-dork from earlier with the galaxy-brain history facts and that weird sparkle in his eyes.

Ms. Forest points at him. “Alex! What kinda dance do you know?”

He blinks.

“Maybe… a bit of hip hop?”

“Then let’s go, son! Show us what you got!”

He cracks his neck, shrugs off his windbreaker, and steps into the spotlight.

Boom.

Matt’s jaw drops. “Wait. This kid’s actually… kinda cool?”

Travis gasps. “Yo! That’s MC Hammer style! The footwork! The rhythm!”

Xavier’s arms go up. “Bro!! He’s got flow!! Look at that shuffle!!”

He moves with confidence. Not polished, but raw. Energetic. Freestyle. Like someone who’s danced alone in his jungle backyard to radio static and dreams.

Luna, beside me, suddenly blushes. “Kinda… cute though.”

I turn slowly.

Staring.

Dead.

At.

Her.

(Present-day Natalie narrating:) Luna… if the current me was there, I would’ve locked you in a locker and mailed it to Pluto. Stay away from him. I will destroy you. 😤

Alex finishes with a spin. The kids around him start clapping. Ms. Forest is hooting like she’s watching MTV.

Even some students from other classes gather around.

And me?

I stand there, arms crossed, watching him dance in the sun like an idiot.

Smiling.

Sparkling.

Completely unaware that he’s changing the air around us.

Maybe… just maybe…

This dork from the jungle is going to turn our school upside down.

The music is thumping.

Kids from other classes start drifting toward the bilingual class, lured in by the rhythm like moths to a disco flame. Ms. Forest is in full groove mode, clapping to the beat like she’s leading a soul train revival. The air is electric, the courtyard alive with laughter and dancing.

Even the usual bullies look confused, unsure whether to mock or join.

And me?

I'm just watching from the sidelines, sipping my juice box like the quiet boss of the Dork Squad™, when suddenly—

I feel a shadow.

Not just a shadow.

A presence.

From the bushes.

I lower my juice. Look up.

And there he is.

Alex.

Emerging like some kind of jungle-born school ninja, slightly sweaty, windbreaker half open, grinning like he just tamed a dragon.

He’s close.

Really close.

Like… stupidly close.

My brain freezes. Eyes widen.

W-wait… this is… too sudden—

He looks at me, squints slightly, tilts his head, and says:

“Hey, aren’t you that—”

He points.

Smirks.

“Crazy girl!!!”

Record scratch.

Silence.

Even the music dies in my soul.

Matt, Travis, Xavier, and Jennifer 🤯

Luna’s jaw drops. “W-whaaa—?!”

Ms. Forest? Full palm-to-face. “Oh no…”

And me?

My thoughts turn to static.

Not dork… not weirdo… not even nerd…

But CRAZY GIRL!?

Inside my brain, nuclear launch codes are activated.

My face slowly turns red.

No. Redder.

💢💢💢💢

HE. IS. DEAD.

Without a word, I lift my leg—

BAM.

Right in the family jewels.

Alex crumples like a deflating beach ball.

“AUGHH—WHAT… THE…HECK…WAS…THAT…FOR—!?” 🥴

Luna drops her juice. “Yo girl!! That was… savage! First strike knockout!!”

Jennifer said to me "Lord have mercy, that was below the belt!"

I huff. Toss my hair back like I’m walking away from an explosion.

“Hmph!! JUNGLE IDIOT!!!”

And I stomp off.

Leaving Alex on his knees.

Still gasping.

Still very, very confused.

Alex’s POV (present day narration)

That…

Was the first time I met Natalie Felicity Hawk.

And the first time I learned two very important life lessons:

Ever.

Again.

- Natalie Side -

I march away, heels stomping the ground like I’m in a one-girl rebellion parade.

“That STUPID, INFURIATING, BUSH-SPAWNED, DUMB BOY!! EKK!!” 😖

Steam practically pours out my ears. Luna jogs up behind me, her jaw still hanging from the previous atomic kick I landed on a certain someone.

“Giiirrrlll!! That was savage! You folded him like laundry!” 😳

I ignore her. My fists are clenched. My heart’s still racing.

Crazy girl? CRAZY!? I’m not crazy! I just…

I just…!

Just like to express myself creatively through fashion and romantic literature and the occasional elegant boots—

Suddenly, like a badly written nightmare, they appear.

The Mean Girls. Led by Penny and her pack of perfectly plucked eyebrows. And of course—

Wan. The human grease stain.

“Awww, look who it is~ Victorian Dork still stuck in the 1800s!”

“Seriously, Nat,” Wan sneers, stepping in way too close, “you and that other weirdo jungle boy? Made for each other. Total freaks.”

I try to step back, but he grabs my wrist.

“You need to stop acting like you’re in a costume drama. This is school—not Broadway.”

Too far.

Luna moves to block him—brave girl—but gets cut off by Wan’s gang.

“Let go of me!!”

Wan reaches for my chin, like he’s auditioning to be a villain in a C-grade drama.

“You look ugh! Just change already—”

THUD.

Wan’s feet leave the ground.

He’s launched backward like a ragdoll, flying through the air with a scream that echoes across the courtyard.

Silence.

Everyone turns to the source.

Standing between me and Wan’s crumpled form is...

Alex.

Breathing hard.

Eyes wet.

Jaw clenched.

he glares down at me like a wolf cornering a rat.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT, HUH!? YOU’RE LUCKY YOU DON’T HAVE BALLS LIKE US OR I’D—!”

...Wait what did he just say!???

WHAT!?

“WHAT KIND OF EXPLANATION IS THAT!?” I yell, beet-red.

“HUH!? YOU STARTED IT! CALLING ME AN IDIOT AND KICKING ME LIKE THAT?!”

“YOU CALLED ME CRAZY!!!”

“BECAUSE ONLY A CRAZY GIRL WOULD WEAR A VICTORIAN DRESS TO SCHOOL!!!”

💢💢💢

“THAT’S. IT.”

SLAP!!

A clean hit across his face.

His eyes bug out.

“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” I shouted back at him

“I’M NOT A PUNCHING BAG!!” he yells, clutching his cheek.

“SAY IT AGAIN, I DARE YOU!!”

“YOU’RE—!!” Alex is about to say it then another one interrupt our arguement

“SHUT UP!!!” Wan groans from the dirt, trying to get up.

“YOU SHUT UP!!!” me and Alex shout back in perfect sync.

We glare at each other again. Breathing heavy. Sparks flying.

There’s only one word to describe this:

CHAOS.

Luna whispers behind me.

“...Yup. Love at first punch.”

Ms. Forest’s voice cuts through the tension like a school bell at judgment day.

“Alright, both of you—cool off. Separate. Now!”

I stomp away from Alex, arms folded so tightly I might break a rib. My cheeks are steaming, and my shoes make thud-thud-thud noises that echo louder than my thoughts.

“Eeeeeekkkk!!! That stupid jungle boy!!! What right does he have to call me crazy!?”

Stomp!

Luna jogs up beside me, hands behind her head like she’s strolling through a meadow instead of watching me nearly explode.

“Yo Nat, I think the ground’s suffered enough. Unless you wanna break through to the cafeteria level?”

I let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Ugh… I’m fine. Just… give me a sec.”

Luna chuckles, raising her hands in surrender. “Hey, I liked that! That’s the most fire I’ve seen from you since that time you tried to slap Mylie with your umbrella.”

“That was self-defense,” I mumble.

She nudges me gently. “Still... admit it. He got under your skin.”

I clench my fists tighter. That boy... that Alex. That Malaysian weird kid with that smug, sparkly-eye grin.

But... deep inside, I feel something strange. A weird flutter in my chest.

I'm not scared of him. In fact...

I kinda want to punch him again. But maybe... just maybe, I want to understand him too.

Alex’s Side – “Why me… why always the groin…”

My voice comes out as a strained wheeze as I’m curled over in pain. "Oooooww..."

Ms. Forest crouches beside me, arms crossed. “Told you not to call her crazy. You’re lucky she didn’t have a baseball bat.”

I blink up at her through watery eyes. “But… I was just being honest!”

Ms. Forest sighs. “Alex… sweetie. Honest and tact are not the same thing.”

I try to stand up straight, my face twitching. “I swear, she’s worse than a hornet nest…”

“She’s Natalie,” Ms. Forest replies, smirking. “And I’ve never seen her lose her cool like that. You hit a nerve no one else has.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So what, I’m special now?”

“You’re something,” she mutters with a half-laugh. “She’s... a bit eccentric, sure. But smart. A bit lonely. You’re the first one to shake her tree.”

I rub my jaw, then my stomach. “Ew. Not interested. Girls are scary.”

But something tugs at my thoughts. That fire in her eyes... that insane outfit… and for a moment… just a moment... I saw someone else.

Frederica.

That same spark. The same wild intensity that makes you wanna pull away and get closer at the same time.

I shake my head. Don’t go there, Alex.

Ms. Forest notices. “You okay, kid?”

“Huh? Y-Yeah! Totally! 100% okay!” I straighten up, forcing a grin. “Just got kicked into next week, but yeah, let’s gooooooo!”

She gives me a skeptical glance as she leads us back toward the class.

And I? I’m already two steps behind, still trying to piece together what just happened in my head.

"That day… I had no idea how much trouble that crazy girl would cause in my life.
But somehow, that kick?
It was the start of something I’d never forget…"

The classroom air feels different now. After that chaos at lunch, the story spreads like wildfire. Apparently, some Sabahan jungle boy just got his jewels nuked by a girl in a Victorian dress.

Yeah. That Sabahan jungle boy was me. And the Victorian bomb? Natalie Hawk.

Now suddenly... everyone wants to talk to me.

During homeroom, I’m still recovering—sitting slightly sideways to keep pressure off the trauma zone—when a friendly tap hits my shoulder.

“Amigo!” a cheerful voice booms. “You alright, man? That was a mean kick! ¡Dios mío! I felt that all the way from my seat!”

I turn. It's Alejandro, a grinning Mexican kid with spiky hair and a camouflage hoodie. His dad's a Marine, and it shows in his posture—straight like a rifle.

“Still hurts,” I mutter, grimacing. “She has the strength of a wild boar.”

Alejandro bursts out laughing. “Bro, next time wear a cup!”

Before I can respond, someone else chimes in beside him.

“Th-That… is painful,” says Lam, a lanky Vietnamese boy with large glasses and hesitant English. “But... she look… very angry… I… no want to be in your shoes…”

“No one should be in my shoes,” I reply. “They're cursed now.”

From the back, a soft voice floats in.

“Alex-kun…” I turn to see Keiko Gando, a petite girl with short black hair and a delicate air. “Umm… it’s not nice… to call someone crazy, desu…” She fiddles with her sleeves, her cheeks slightly pink.

I bow my head slightly. “Yeah… lesson learned. Never anger a Victorian in public.”

She giggles behind her hand. “At least you learned…”

Then a thump! A guy jumps into the conversation, arms thrown over Alejandro and Lam’s shoulders.

“Yo! That was legendary!” says Xavier Machado, an Afro-Mexican kid with a guitar pick hanging from his necklace. “Dude… you took on the coolest guy in school—Wan—and got owned by a dress-wearing queen bro!”

“I didn’t ask to be,” I groan.

Xavier laughs, adjusting his red flannel shirt. “Still—mad respect. You got guts. If you ever start a band, I’m your rhythm guitarist, man. Name it ‘Kick to the Groin’ and we’re platinum.”

Alejandro and Lam erupt in laughter. But just as I think that’s enough chaos, the room shakes from two booming voices at once.

“GIRLS! What’s the saying in English—‘Hell hat no furry like... corn woman!?’”

“YOU FOOL!!! It’s ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned!’ You disgrace my ears, brother!”

Everyone bursts out laughing.

“Introducing,” Xavier says with dramatic flair, “the comedic duo: Hussain the Nigerian striker and Muhammad the Khasmiri grammarian!”

Hussain grins wide, spinning a soccer ball on his finger. “You see me during lunch? That’s street football style, brother. I play for Real Youth Academy—you’ll see me on FIFA one day!”

Muhammad, arms crossed, replies in perfect English, “You can have the ball, I’ll have the words. Balance, you see?”

I look around, smiling.

Despite the pain, despite the chaos, despite being nearly dismembered by a girl I barely know…

…I’m starting to feel something I haven’t felt in a long time.

Accepted.

Seen.

Maybe this class of misfits… maybe it’s not so bad after all.

Present Day Alex (Narration):

That day, I met people from around the world. Kids with scars, stories, and dreams. Some running, some searching… just like me.

And in that tiny bilingual classroom… something started to grow.

Not just a memory…

But a life.

Alex - Present Day Narration

"You know… back then I thought Ms. Forest was just another teacher.
But no. She was a whole damn school packed into one body. A living legend in a pencil skirt and cowboy boots."

Classroom - Bilingual Program, Desert Primary School

Ms. Forest, with her thick glasses reflecting sunlight like a final boss, slams a fresh stick of chalk on the board. She draws a smooth curve, numbers dancing like ancient symbols of doom.

“All right kids,” she says, turning with a grin that could make grown men sweat, “Let’s warm up with something light—basic algebra.”

Light? Lady, that board looks like alien hieroglyphics.

I stare blankly.

Alex - Inner Monologue:

"Yeah, sure. Just your average third-grade equation written like the Da Vinci code."

“Lam,” Ms. Forest calls without even checking, “Solve for x.”

Without hesitation, Lam—our silent Vietnamese calculator—rises from his chair.

“x equals three,” he says in that mellow, robotic tone of his.

Ms. Forest nods. “Correct.”

Then comes Keiko. Calm, graceful, the kind of girl who always bows before speaking, even in English.

“x equals four. Thank you,” she says, with the articulation of someone who studies English grammar for fun.

“Wonderful pronunciation, Keiko,” Ms. Forest replies.

Then Muhammad, who barely even raises his hand, mutters an answer so confident, it cuts through the air like a blade. He’s sharper than a Harvard grad. Also sarcastic enough to turn a priest into a punk rocker.

And then there's Jasmine.

She barely speaks, tucked behind her veil of silence. But when she does, she unravels a full proof of the next problem in flawless logic. She's like a ghost of intellect—quiet, powerful, impossible to ignore.

Alex - Inner Monologue:
"She's scary smart. Like, ‘could-hack-NASA-with-a-pencil’ smart.
…And she hasn’t smiled once."

Meanwhile, the rest of us?

We sit there blinking.

Me, Alejandro, Xavier, Francisco, Hussain—the Dumb Monkey Squad. 🍌

Five boys, ten brain cells. Give or take.

Francisco slaps my back and laughs in rapid-fire Spanish:

“¡Alex! Esa chica es un torbellino, ¿eh? Pero tú también estás en tus cabales.”

Translation: ??‍♂️

Thank god for Xavier, our unofficial translator and resident guitarist.

“He said Natalie’s a tornado... and you're just as loco for facing her.”

Francisco and Xavier burst into laughter.

“Tell him I’d rather fight a grizzly in my boxers than deal with her again.”

Xavier translates. Francisco laughs so hard he drops his pencil.

Then there's Will.

Local American kid. Quiet. A little slower to process things because of his reading condition. But he tries harder than anyone else. Always got this tired but honest smile.

Xavier once told me:

“He lives with his grandma. Parents split. But he’s tougher than most of the jocks here.”

And last… the wild card.

“Alex, baby!”

That honeyed southern voice rings across the room. I turn and—

Camile Lafleur throws a smirk my way. Blonde curls, red lipstick, and a rebellious glare like she walked out of a drama TV series.

“Treat a lady like a queen, ya hear me? Be gentle, not gruff, sugah~!”

Xavier whispers to me, “Daughter of a millionaire. Her family shipped her off here to get her ‘reality check.’”

Alex - Narration (Present):
“Camile Lafleur. Rich. Smart. Trouble.
The girl could break your heart and your bank account in the same breath.”

Ms. Forest looks at us with arms crossed, a crooked grin curling up one side.

“You lot are a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Love you too, teach!” Camile winks.

“Focus! Francisco, next question.”

“¡Ay no…!”

Alex - Narration (Present):
"That day, I realized something.
We weren’t just a class.
We were a weird, wild mosaic of lost pieces—
stitched together by chaos, culture, and Ms. Forest’s iron chalk."

And somehow... I belonged here.

-Natalie Side-

Narration – Present Day Natalie:

“I should’ve known... rumors don’t die in school—they just mutate.
Back then, I thought I could handle it all.
But when my name got twisted in someone else’s lips...
That was when the war of words began.”

In Ms Hazel Classroom

Ms. Hazel’s voice echoes faintly in the background, but my ears are focused elsewhere.

Whispers crawl like insects across the desks.

“Did you hear? Nat bullied that new kid—Alex or something.”

Mylie. Of course. That conniving bottle-blonde with her fake accent and even faker sympathy. Her voice oozes just loud enough for the room to hear, but soft enough to dodge the teacher’s radar.

“I heard Alex talks all weird,” another girl adds.
“Maybe it’s a jungle dialect or something...”

Then, the most ignorant comment of the day:

“That’s just how Sabahans are,” Wan says with a smug shrug. “Their Malay has that… backward jungle vibe. Probably still swinging on trees over there.”

My hand clenches into a fist beneath the desk.

You absolute idiot.

(Present Day Natalie – Narration)

Wan… I thought that day ended with bruised egos and scuffed shoes. But then came Hiew, and what Lam told me later…
Boys like Wan aren’t just bullies.
They’re parasites that think they own every inch of air around them.
More American than America itself, huh? Please.

“Hey.” Luna nudges me gently, her brown eyes calm but sharp. “Ignore them. Plastic melts in heat. And girl… you’re on fire.”

We both stifle a laugh.

Ms. Hazel claps her hands, snapping the class to attention.

“Today, we’re diving into Language Arts. Specifically, Shakespeare. Why is his writing still studied today?”

Wan’s hand shoots up faster than a rocket.

“Shakespeare was a maestro of language. His prose and verse shaped classical English literature.”

Nice try, copy-paste.

Ms. Hazel smiles. “A good start, Wan. But why is his influence still relevant in the modern age?”

Wan stands again, his voice loud and full of self-importance.

“I believe English is the most crucial language in the global stage. For diplomacy, for trade, and literature—Shakespeare laid the foundation for all of it.”

He sits down like he just won an Oscar.

Ms. Hazel smiles again, but her eyes scan the room. “Anyone else want to challenge or add to that?”

I rise, steady. Calm. Let’s end this properly.

Let the real show begin.

“Shakespeare’s works aren't just literary relics,” I begin, my voice clear. “They’re emotional blueprints. His mastery of language didn’t just capture events—it captured human nature. Themes like love, betrayal, ambition, grief... timeless.”

The class falls quiet. Even Mylie stops chewing her gum.

“He didn’t just write English. He reinvented it—hundreds of words, expressions we still use today. His plays are mirrors, showing us who we were... and who we still are.”

Ms. Hazel leans against the board, arms crossed, smiling.

I continue.

“‘Romeo and Juliet’ showed us the tragedy of blind hate.
‘Hamlet’ taught us the cost of overthinking.
‘Macbeth’ warned us about ambition.
‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’? That love is magical... and completely ridiculous.”

I finish with a small grin. The room? Silent.

Then, a soft clap from Ms. Hazel.

“Well said, Natalie. Very well said.”

I sit back down, flipping my hair slightly. “I’m not the only walking encyclopedia here,” I mutter, more to myself.

But today? Maybe I’m the only one with a working brain.

(Present Day Natalie – Narration)

That day... I wasn’t trying to show off.
I just didn’t want Alex—wherever he was—to think I was just some brainless girl in a frilly dress.
I wanted him to see me… and remember.

“That boy is like a stubborn case of hay fever—irritating, clingy, and makes me wanna sneeze him straight out of existence! Ugh!! Why can’t he just vanish into the void like a puff of smoke?! Poof!” stomps foot, fuming

“I swear, I’ll never forgive him for being so... so... him! It’s infuriating!”

To be continued