Below is a free-write I did in my class yesterday. The assignment was to write in the perspective of someone you hated in high school. A lot of the people in my class were wondering why I hated this person. I wrote it in first person, so interpret the gender anyway you want. I’ll be interested in knowing who you think is talking.
I think she’s younger than me, I can’t really tell. The teacher called her by her nickname, so she’s probably popular. After the teacher called her name, excuse me, nickname, off the attendance sheet, she slouched back in her chair and brought her pen up to her lips. I wondered if she smoked.
She had one of those laughs: loud yet, cute. Wow, can’t believe I just said that. I barely know her. We’ve never even made eye contact. She sits up front; I sit in the row behind her, closer to the window.
We had a pop quiz today.
When she was handed a copy, she cracked her knuckles and shook her head slightly before crowding over her desk. I bet she got a hundred on it. I bet she’s the kind of girl who shares only her shitty grades to her friends just to make them feel better.
There’s something about her that I need. Her expression always remains content, occasionally cracks a smile with a laugh. I bet she has someone in her life that makes her smile like no one ever has.
Damn, the things I’d do to make her look at me.