Why are men so fascinated with breasts, huh? It's annoying. A girl can't even wear a nice top without all the guys looking down her shirt. And, god, I wish my boobs could just switch places with my eyes that way when guys talk to me and look at my chest, they'd be looking at my eyes and not my tits.

Guys are such perverts. Today's the last time I'm ever coming to school in a halter.

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In my Calculus class, I always sit next to this girl, but not because I like her. I like her friend. And the girl I sit next to, Chrissy, always sits behind Becca, her friend, so whenever they're talking and she's looking at Chrissy, it's almost like Becca's looking at me. [I'm such a dork, I know. *facepalm*]

ANYWAY, lately people in class have a hard time keeping up. Chrissy's always walking out in class, so I'm really not surprised that she doesn't get the stuff, but Becca sits through the entire lecture, so I don't know why she doesn't get it. Like, in class, I'm practically shouting out the answers to Professor Gilman's questions so that Becca would know that I understand everything and maybe she would ask me to teach her how to do mathematical backflips.

So much for that though. Today, Chrissy asked me to help her. I mean, god, Chrissy? I don't have anything against her, you know, besides the fact that she smells like cigarettes. I just don't like her much. And if I'm going to be meeting anybody next week, skipping lab to be teaching Calculus and all that drama, I'd rather that it was for Becca. I so wanted to say, no SCREAM, I'll teach you but only if Becca comes with you! *chokes* But I'm not ready to be humiliated like that just yet. I'll save it for the midterms. You know, when I let Becca copy my answers. Haha.

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Can you see me going out with a black guy?

*squints*

Labels: stories

kitten posted @ 6:52 PM