The entire class period contained moments of me drooling over the sexy delicious creation that is Clark, all the while hissing every time Lisa shook my shoulder to whisper something to me.
Damn stitches will literally be the death of me, a very silent painful death. I'm surprised no one has cared to realize, it's not like I don't have my shoulder wrapped in white gauze for the world to see.
I wanted to explain to her that she didn't have to shake my shoulder to speak with me since we sat side by side, but it seemed like too much effort.
Ever since I killed those three guys, everything seemed like too much effort. I was drained of energy and possibly any way of creative or positive thinking.
Plus I'm sure Lincoln wants to kill me.
"Dayna, who was that hottie from lunch?" Asked the ging
