"Bestie, I have nothing to wear okay? So don't force me to go shopping," she pouted and continued to work on the art design she was doing for the prom.
She needed to focus first or for sure she will be roasted tomorrow in her meeting with the art club president. The gods know he was always aiming for her throat.
Paris frowned as she continued to ignore him, "You would rather slave yourself to that cold dictator's wishes?"
She stopped with her drawing and flicked his forehead, "Don't call him that. That was rude."
"Well, I am saying it as it is. That man is a rude dictator and you know it. He would slave you to death if you give in to all his demands all the time," his serious voice made her frown a bit.
"You really think I am slaving myself for that boy?" she pouted.
"Well, yes. So much so that you have no more time for me," unfair as it was, his stubborn expression didn't subtract from his handsome face.
