We're gonna die like this you know.

Miserable and oh.

I had a quite nice day today. A maths lesson spent doing puzzles, fashion jewellry textiles making little random what-ever-you-wanteds out of fabric scraps. Recess, ahh, recess. Redskins from the lovely Gen, a sweet note from Lauren, sadistic rock paper scissors and sex jokes, all sitting on the cool concrete in the shade. The rest of the day continued in the same fashion, very relaxing and nice. The only part I would complain about is the fact that my secret santa present was taken from my locker, bitches.

Oh wait, I just got off the phone to him, my day just plumetted. Dead. Fuck.

Someone, who I don't know, in a town I don't even fucking live in anymore, told his mum that I would "come hell or high water have sex with her son."

What.
The.
Fuck.

We've discussed before that we wouldn't be doing that until both of us had left highschool!! He started off the conversation with "I have a bone to pick with you..." Bad tone. Ugh. He said he doesn't trust anyone, not even me anymore. Because some dickhead twisted something I said, or, created a complete lie, and spread it around. This is the second time this has happened, it has to stop.

Me, little miss Virgin-Never-Been-Kissed, plots to have sex with her boyfriend of, what, two months? Totally.

I'm so stressed, I want to know who said it, where they got it from, and why why why.

Really gotta hand it to you, really gotta hand it to you.

xx (Oh wait, I probably shouldn't kiss kiss after my posts anymore, people might think I'm a WHORE.)