"So, did you talk to him? Does he still hate me and want to smash my pretty face in?" Was the first thing that Neil asked on Monday morning when he found me getting my books from my locker.
Closing the locker, I turned to face him with a blank face. "Pretty much, all he could talk about was how he wanted to kill you for thinking that of him and how he never wanted to see your face again," I replied nonchalantly and then started walking to the Math class.
I heard Neil's footsteps following behind me, quick and rushed and he finally fell in step with me. "What? He's that upset with me, oh man. I'm so screwed," he kept saying, trying to get my attention but it was taking a lot out of me not to laugh at how worried he was. "I apologised and even spent my weekend reading more about polysexual and all the other types of sexualities for nothing. Aw, this sucks."
