55

1443 Words

Ariel Beckham. This is the second week of perfume class and things are getting tense. Derek’s already kicked out ten students and by the end of the month, I pray I’ll be one of only two left standing. It was all friendly at first—everyone chatting, swapping tips, and pretending we were all in it together. But now? It’s a battlefield. I guess that’s what happens when you have someone like Mr. Derek teaching. The guy's intense and the competition’s making everyone go a little crazy. It’s bloody hot in here but I’m still hanging on. I’m not getting kicked out—no way. It’s my senior year, and in a couple of months, I’ll be graduating. I need to figure out exactly what I’m doing next and perfume just happens to be the thing that’s pulling me in. I’ve got plans. I could major at the perfume i

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