Aren't We All?

Aren't we all just a little bit confused?

Aren't we all just a little bit scared?

Aren't we all just a little bit different?

Aren't we all?


2. 1

I gulped and leaned against my locker, hoping they wouldn't see me (although they seemed a little too busy snogging to see me).

'They' were Tiffany LaRouche and Josh Chancey. Tiffany was that classic rich girl type and Josh was the classic jock, made-for-her, break-a-million-hearts-in-one-day type.

I knew I shouldn't like him as much as I did, but, oh guuuuuuuuuurl, I did.  My throat went dry. I knew that in the movies it would be meant  to happen, but, in real life, it shouldn't have. His type was more girls who didn't have breasts the size of California and her type was more guys who's type WAS girls like her.

But, right in front of my eyes, there they were, snogging like some porn video minus the sex. I ran off to find Rayne.

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