Trouble (JenniexReader)

4

Why here?

Why now?

Did she see me?

Did she recognize me?

Would I have to sit through her class for a whole school year?

Does she think about me like I do her?

Does she feel guilty about what happened?

Where did she come from?

Did she know that I went to this school?

"Alright! Send your essays to my email. It is written on the board. I would like to read them and give you guys tips to help improve your writing before we really get into writing more heavy duty type writing. You may talk amongst yourselves while I make notes on your works."

On your paper a were a mere 517 words. Just enough to make the word count. It was poorly written and rushed, but you could focus. Seeing her after all these years were the biggest blow anyone could ever receive. Questions couldn't stop running wild through your mind.

"Y/n?"

"What's up, Lisa?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, why?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost, and you're sweating."

"I'm just dandy!"

"What's going on, y/n?"

"I..."

"You can tell me."

"I know the professor."

"You've met her before?"

"Yes."

"Weird. Why are you so bothered right now though?"

"If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else."

"I promise that I won't tell anyone what you tell me."

"It was about five and a half years when we met for the very first time. At that time she had just move here from Korea. I was with a group of my friends on the first day of school hanging out before classes started. I saw she was standing alone, and I told my friends that I was going to introduce myself. I did, and for the first week of school I was like her tour guide. From then on we started to become the best of friends. We spent everyday and every night together. Everyone at our high school said that we were inseparable. After a while we both found that..."

"Okay! I've gotten everyone's paper printed off and filled with notes. You may come find your papers and look over what I've suggested you can do better next time. I've put a grade on the paper to let you know what you would have made if I were to lightly grade this paper."

"Tell me the rest later. I'll grab your paper for you."

Please tell me she wasn't too harsh.

"Dude..."

"What?"

"She's got it out for you."

"Let me see!"

23/110

"Wow."

"Ouch. I got a 90/110."

"Great. Meanwhile, I have a paper that has been soaked in red ink."

"Don't worry. You will eventually get on my level."

"Shut it, Manoban."

"It's not my fault that your friend likes me better."

She used to love me.

"She's not my friend. Not anymore."

"I really need to hear the rest of this story."

"Maybe another day. I can't talk about her anymore."

I wish I didn't have to speak of or ever see her again, but I have a whole school year filled of seeing her beautiful face. What she did still hurts me, but I love her.