Victor- creative writing classmate
I don’t understand what kind of horrors I must have committed in a past life that I’m being forced to endure this kind of punishment in the present.
Why do Big Foot and the Giraffe always sit by me? I swear I randomize my seat each class and somehow I still end up between or near these two dillweeds every single time. There’s nothing about me that’s inviting, I’m sure of it.
I’m tired of playing chaperone to their weirdo mating ritual. Talk to each other already! You’re in college! Stop being coy and adorable. And I don’t mean adorable in a positive way. They’re cloying and maybe even a little bit pathetic.
I wonder what Big Foot would do if I asked her on a date in front of him. Maybe he would stomp on me with one or both of his feet.
“Victor?” I’m roused out of my thoughts by Inga. She thinks she’s so cool in her hipster glasses and tiny cardigans and her spiky blonde hair.
“Yes?”
“It’s your turn to share your story idea.”
I need to start thinking of new and creative ways to get out of this class. That’s what my story idea should be.