Epic Fail

Epic Fail: Bubble Sort

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I have so much to revise for my exams, in the last week I've been going to sleep at three in the morning and if this chapter sucks, I apologise in advance.  

Leaving aside the school crap, do you guys have song suggestions for this book? I'm trying to make a 8tracks playlist and it would be wonderful if you gave me some suggestions. 

And finally, I'm going to thank you for your votes, lovely comments, follows and the fact that you added my book to your reading lists. So thank you very very very much and please don't forget to comment and vote on this chapter as well. It would mean the world to me. Like seriously, everytime I feel sad, I just read your comments and everything becomes ponies and rainbows. 

Epic Fail (NINE): Bubble Sort

There was one particular time of the year when I would scare the living shite out of my parents by wondering around the house during the early morning hours whilst murmuring incoherent words to them but with a ginormous meaning to me.

The mysterious words you're probably thinking about were not some majestically spells or crap like that. Those words were actually computer algorithms or math theorems.

Yes, that time of the year I was referring to was the exam period.

I remember the sinful hours before my computer science exam. As I specified above, I randomly walked around the house with a piece of paper which had written on it the bubble sort algorithm.

I loathed bubble sort even though it had a pretty funny name.

Mom would periodically check on me with weird facial expression as if she was waiting for me to take a knife and stab all of my books out of pure, electrifying anger.

"Sam, get some sleep," I heard her whisper to me, presumably because she didn't want to wake dad up. I honestly didn't think such thing was possible, he was snoring so damn loudly.

"Shh," I whispered back. "I think I got this," I said, referring to the almost crumpled piece of paper in my hand.

She hesitantly moved inwards her room, leaving me alone in my agony and despair.

Sometime at four in the morning, I decided to make a cup of coffee, just to wake myself up a little bit. But it didn't go as smoothly as I wanted to.

Somehow I managed to pour more Irish creamer than coffee and in less than twenty minutes I was high as fùck. The structure of the algorithm looked like Egyptian hieroglyphs and without even realizing, I was writing profanities on the paper, just to express my hatred. But I wasn’t drunk enough to not be able to realize what the hell I was doing. 

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"What's with that face?" I heard my father ask as he drove me to school.

Even though the feeling of being high completely subsided, I felt a little bit dizzy and confused. What completely surprised my parents and myself was the fact that I actually spent some time making myself look pretty. Let's blame the alcohol in my coffee and not the fact that I wanted to look nice for Josh.

I didn't want to look appealing just to make him want me sexually, God, no! I just felt like there were so many good looking girls in my school and he might realize that he could do better than the loner girl who wore hoodies and ripped jeans.

"It's the face of a student who has to take an exam," I retorted and fidgeted in my seat because it felt weird wearing a skirt and flats.

"How about the clothes? You're even wearing make-up. Are you possessed by some dead diva or something?" Dad glanced at me, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards. He did enjoy bombarding me with questions out of a sudden.