6:51am Friday, January 9
Somebody slap my dumb face.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I can't do anything correctly.
I forgot Rob's gift.
Scarlett canceled our sleepover.
My mom said she's a little homophobic, and mom doesn't like me being in the same bed as Scarlet.
I look like shit, because my stupid friends planned casual Friday.
I only curled half my hair.
Everyone is saying 2015 is turning out shitty.
I want to punch their fucking faces.
This is gonna be a good year.
I decide that.
I still forgot Rob's gift for Secret Santa, and that's some bullshit. Way to go, Bitch Blair Cunt.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I might skip math.
I hate math.
I'm angry.
My mom is a bitch.
My dad is a jerk.
I have no one to talk to, because my mom has the opinions of a 97 year old great grandmother from a Catholic home. AKA she's an ass.
I can't even get off easily lately.
Madi ditched me yesterday during art to hang out with Pablo (she likes him). That left me to look like a loser by myself.
MY NOSE IS RUNNING.
FUCK YOU, LIFE.
Maybe I should be like: "Surprise, Rob!!! Your gift is sex!!"
And then it will all work out.
7:02am
I'm slightly better now. All I need to think about is being happy.
12:16pm
I feel like the back of my head is bashed in, and I don't notice.
3:40pm
Aw Jake was so sweet. I was saying how a kid in bio called me flat-chested, and then Jake blurts out, "WHAAAT?!?!" *staring straight at my boobs*
And I'm like, "JAKE!!!"
And he says, "Sorry, Blair, but that's just not true."
Aha ha what a nice start to my weekend.
3:57pm
Linkin Park kinda turns me on. Is that weird?
YOU ARE READING
Satan School of Sophomores
Teen FictionA year, documented, of a young, confused teen girl's life as she struggles and experiments with the modern world of sex, drugs, and the opposite gender. This work contains crude language, intense/inappropriate situations and other more or less mild...
