The memory of the past two days has been displeasing. Sitting here mesmerizing it all was like reading the same words over and over again from the same section without definite meaning. Hours have passed since my supposed crutch left for the restroom.
Heading to the principal's strict words of solving our differences and making out, ( Hmm, making out with the school bad boy? quite a thing)I dashed out of the class with an exit card walking down the hall to escape the awkwardness in the class.
Hell, is almost like an understatement of what transpired between Thompson and me since Mrs. Clinton has instructed him to be my pretend crutches.
First, it was earlier that day at the café. He followed us though we tried to ditch him which seemed he was enjoying this 'being' my crutch idea more than anything, at first I thought so but after that incident, I knew I'd gotten myself into something serious.
